by Joshua Grove
“Hey, boy,” Dean said. He knelt down to pat the dog on the head. Without warning the dog backed away, a deep growl in its throat. Dean then heard another growl, this time behind him. He turned around slowly, assuming one of the dogs had panicked. Nothing was there. The dog in front of him yelped, and when Dean faced forward again the dog was gone.
“Something must have spooked him,” Dean said to himself. He couldn’t figure out how the dog had moved that quickly. Then he heard growling again. This time, however, it was accompanied by heavy breathing. He turned around again, walking toward the water and pausing at a large rock. As he shined the light on the rock, he noticed the blood.
“This is where I died,” a voice said from behind him. Dean swung around, drawing his gun. There in front of him was Alan Brickton.
“Mary, Mother of God,” Dean said. Although it looked like Alan Brickton, he seemed taller. His eyes were enormous, and sunken into his skull. His teeth were yellow and somehow larger. It looked like he was wearing lipstick, until Dean realized it was probably blood. Before he could say something, Alan suddenly leaped forward. Dean fell on his backside, the gun falling from his hands. Alan perched on top of his stomach.
“Let’s go get ‘em!” Alan yelled. It sounded exactly like Dylan’s voice. “Let’s go get ‘em!”
“We’re getting ‘em!” Dean’s brothers yelled. They must have been close so Dean shouted for them.
“Down here! We’re down here! Help me!” Dean waited and listened for a response.
“Dean?” one of his brothers called.
Alan put a large, bony hand over Dean’s mouth with such force that Dean’s mouth began to bleed.
“I’m okay, guys!” Alan cried, but in Dean’s voice. “I think I saw Dylan about a hundred yards downriver!” Alan broke Dean’s left leg, then jabbed him in the mouth with three of his long fingers.
Dean could feel some of his front teeth falling down his throat. He began to choke, spitting out as many as he could. The man on top of him had disappeared. Dean tried to climb to his feet, but couldn’t balance himself. His left leg limp and keeping it as still as possible, Dean began to pull himself up the hill toward the house, keeping it as still as possible. He heard more dogs whimpering, then one of his brothers began screaming.
“Tim, come in,” Dean screamed into his radio. He turned it off, then turned it on again. The radio was dead. He threw it down in frustration. As he looked at it, two large feet stepped directly onto the radio, crushing it under its weight. He knew without looking that Alan had come back to kill him, but he wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of doing it without looking him in the eye.
“You son of a …” Dean began, but stopped speaking when he saw it wasn’t Alan. It was hardly human. It stood nearly eight feet tall, with ash for skin, talons for fingers, and teeth for a face. He knew it was the last thing he would see on this earth. He pulled the rosary from his pocket and began chanting to himself. Through his prayer he could hear the creature scraping something against the rock. He opened his eyes, and to his horror, realized that the bastard was sharpening his teeth.
* * * * * *
4
While Tim and Geraldine were preoccupied with the people in the woods, Trevor saw his opportunity.
“Dude, let’s go into the house,” he said to Simon.
“Did you not hear your mom?” he asked.
“Don’t be that guy.”
“What guy is that?” Simon huffed.
“The loser who listens to Mommy,” Trevor said. “Besides, it’s my mom. Not yours.”
“And you don’t think she’d call my mom? Or have you forgotten that my mom is a bitch and my dad doesn’t give a shit?”
Trevor felt badly about what he had said. Simon was like a brother, and was often at the Blackwood home since Simon’s household was unwelcoming and dirty. Rose, Simon’s mother, was a bitch from Hell who used to beat Simon. Trevor knew his mom would never call Rose. If anything, Anna would finally adopt Simon like Trevor has always wanted.
“You’re right,” Trevor said. “But seriously, I am going into that house.”
Trevor turned and looked at the large windows in the back of the house. They were huge. Simon whistled.
“I don’t know how I feel about that, but you know I’m with you. There’s only one problem.”
“What’s that?” Trevor asked.
“We have no weapons.”
Trevor patted the front of his pants.
“Oh, that’s rich. Since when does you dick fire bullets?” They both laughed.
“I also left one under the seat in Mom’s cruiser. Let’s go get it.”
They started to walk away slowly, trying not to bring attention to themselves. Trevor prayed that the people in the woods would make it, but he was secretly glad that something had happened to give them the opportunity to sneak away.
“We’re almost there,” Trevor whispered as they approached the cruiser. “Keep watch.” He opened the back door, thankful that his mother hadn’t locked it. Please let it be there, he thought as he reached under the seat. There, just where he left it, was one of the Berettas and a pack of ammunition. “Simon,” he whispered harshly.
“What?” Simon said, walking around the open door.
“Put this in your pants,” Trevor ordered as he shoved the gun toward Simon. Once Simon hid the gun, Trevor shut the door. They were only about ten feet away from the stairs that led into the house. Trevor looked around. Tim and Geraldine were trying to keep everyone calm, and while their backs were to the boys, they took full advantage. They shot up the stairs.
“Jesus!” Trevor yelled as Simon ran into him.
“Why did you stop?” Simon murmured. “You were practically running, then you suddenly stop right inside the door. What the hell was I supposed to do?”
Trevor pushed past Simon and shut the door. He looked out the four small, glass squares that decorated the door.
“Anyone following us?” Simon asked.
“All clear,” Trevor sighed. “Let’s go.”
When they entered the kitchen, both boys turned in a circle, gawking at the expensive appliances and ornate backsplashes.
“Who would have ever thought Acorn Alan lived in such wealth?” Trevor asked.
“Yeah, I always thought this place would have been dirty and run down.”
“Check this out,” Trevor said as he began investigating the wall of cabinetry that were half opened.
“Didn’t your mom say that she was going to the library and under the house?” Simon asked.
“Yeah.” Trevor opened the secret door that led to the wine cellar. “This isn’t the library.”
Simon nodded, following Trevor’s logic. “Then let’s check it out.”
Trevor and Simon treaded cautiously down the stairs, pausing at each step to listen for sounds. After a moment they were standing in the cellar. Turning on the light, they scoured the room.
“This must have been where Tim and them lost Lionel,” Simon observed.
“You don’t miss a trick, do you?”
“Well, they were talking about it in the car, remember?”
“Sure,” Trevor laughed. “They shot this room up good. Look at all the broken bottles.”
“And you can smell the alcohol. Look, they must have gone through there,” Simon said as he pointed to the large hole in the center of the room. Trevor saw the drain cover sitting beside it. He walked over and looked down. Simon joined him.
“A ladder,” Simon observed.
“A real genius you are,” Trevor joked. “Get your gun out and cover me. I’m going down.”
Simon didn’t say a word. He pulled the Beretta from his pants and did as he was asked.
Trevor slowly descended, a gun in one hand and a ladder rung in the other. He jumped down when he reached the bottom, displacing the water under his feet.
“All clear,” he called to Simon. Trevor pulled out his flashlight and began looking in all directions.<
br />
“Which way should we go?” Simon wondered. “I think we should go that way,” he said while pointing to their right. “That direction leads toward the back of the house, where all that shit with Michael went down.”
“Good call,” Trevor said.
As they crept through the water, trying not to make noise, Trevor began to wonder if the shadow werewolf would hear them.
“Do you think it’s safe to walk through this water?” he asked.
Simon looked at him with wide eyes. “I don’t see what other choice we have, Trevor. It’s either this or we go back into the house and follow your mom. And I doubt that is a good idea.”
“But we’re making too much noise. I think it will hear us.”
“Unless it can climb the dirt ceiling, we will hear it coming, too. Sure, we’re making noise, but the shadow will make the same sound. Probably louder.”
Trevor admitted he had a point. It still didn’t calm the nerves in his stomach.
“Besides,” Simon continued. “I think we’re safer down here than in the forest. There are less places for it to hide, and fewer places for it to jump out at us.”
Without warning, they heard something not far in front of them.
Splash!
“Oh shit!” Simon said. “It sounds like something running in the water.”
Splash!
“It’s getting louder,” Trevor said. “Get ready to shoot it.”
Splash! Splash! Trevor was prepared to kill his father if he had to. The sounds grew louder and closer, until finally their flashlights illuminated the shape. It was moving fast.
“Stop!” Simon yelled. “Stop or we’ll shoot!”
The figure continued to race toward them. It was still too dark to discern if it was the creature. Trevor knew they didn’t have time to discuss what they should do.
Pow!
Pow!
Pow!
Trevor shot twice, Simon once. They could see the shadow collapse as the water splattered against the tunnel walls. They stood motionless, waiting for it to regain its footing and charge them again.
“Do you think it’s dead?” Simon asked.
“Only one way to find out.” They advanced toward the creature, prepared at any moment to fire at it again when it stood up. But it didn’t move.
“Oh, God,” Simon gasped. “Shit. Oh, God.”
Trevor said nothing. Panic and horror filled his thoughts. He tried to move, but he was frozen.
“What should we do?” Simon pushed. “Oh, God.”
“Would you stop saying that!” Trevor shouted. “It’s not our fault. He didn’t answer us when we called to him.”
Simon didn’t say anything. He just stood over the dead body of Officer Lionel Flowers.
Again, without warning, they heard something in the distance.
Splash!
“Oh, shit!” Simon yelled again. “That sounded close!”
Trevor looked at Simon, then felt something grab his ankle. It pulled with such force that he fell into the water.
“Trevor!” Simon cried.
Lionel Flowers climbed over Trevor’s body and began pushing his head underwater. Trevor tried to breathe, but swallowed a mouthful of water. He badly needed to cough, but each time he inhaled, water would fill his throat and burn his lungs.
Pow!
Pow!
Trevor could feel Lionel’s iron grip loosen. He used his hands to push his head above water, and he began to vomit water. Simon pulled Lionel off of Trevor, and he was face down in the water.
“Are you okay?” Simon asked as he rubbed Trevor’s back.
“Do I sound okay?” Trevor asked between coughing and several dry heaves. He looked at Lionel’s limp body. “You shot him?”
“Would you have rather I let him kill you?”
“No, no,” Trevor said, shaking his head and trying to stand. “Just, you know, just going over what happened.”
Splash!
The sound startled both boys, who immediately pulled their guns again.
“Why do you think Lionel tried to kill you?” Simon asked.
“He was probably out of his mind,” Trevor said. “Do you think we should look at him?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know, flip him over and look at his face.”
“Good idea. That way we can see if he is still human.”
Trevor nodded to Simon and they both grabbed Lionel’s right arm and turned him over so they could see him. Simon immediately jumped back.
“What the hell?” Trevor moaned. Lionel’s eyes were missing.
“They’ve been gouged out,” Simon said. “And check this out.” Simon pointed to Lionel’s neck, which had been bitten repeatedly.
“Just like Michael Mullins,” Trevor recalled.
“Well at least Michael is alive,” Simon said. “We didn’t murder him.”
“You have to get over that,” Trevor said. He knew he was asking the impossible, because he was quite sure he would never get over killing someone who had actually been to his house several times for dinner.
“Yeah, okay,” Simon hissed.
Splash!
Trevor and Simon froze, listening for another sound. It didn’t sound any closer than the first time, but he couldn’t trust anything at this point.
“Trevor!” a female voice called.
“Dude,” Simon whispered. “Is that who I think it is?”
“Trevor! Come quickly! Trevor!” It was his mother.
Simon began to walk toward the voice, but Trevor grabbed his shoulder, shaking his head.
“The tunnel behind the library probably leads down here,” Simon said.
“Maybe,” Trevor said. “But remember what Michael said? He heard Mom’s voice in the woods. That’s how the shadow lured him in before it attacked him.”
“Oh, yeah,” Simon remembered.
“Trevor!” the voice called again.
“I think we should stay right here,” Simon said.
“We’re not falling for your bullshit!” Trevor screamed at the voice. Simon shoved him, wondering why he would call attention to their position.
“It knows where we are, dumbass,” Trevor growled. “If it wants us, it’s gonna have to come and get us.”
So with guns in hand, they waited for the shadow werewolf to charge them.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Night of the Living and the Dead
1
Once Anna had crawled through the panels, she was surprised to see just how large the bear totem was.
“So what exactly does this represent?” Anna asked.
“It is first about a family connection to that animal,” Matthew pointed out.
“That is not necessarily true,” Anish corrected. “The animal represents the family, that much is true. But as far as the use of animals in totems, it simply represented the continuation of nature and the relationship between us and the animal kingdom.”
“So why have I read the opposite in so many books?” Matthew asked.
Anish nodded. “In the eighteenth century, after first contact with the White man, a researcher came into an Ojibwa tribe and tried to understand the totem. In fact, he was the first to use the word ‘totemism.’ This man, however, was confused by what totems meant. He helped spread the incorrect theory that the totem animal was psychically and intimately linked to the people connected to it.”
“So that isn’t true?” Matthew asked.
“No, it is not true. The totem represents social identity for the Ojibwa people. Let me give you an example. When we traveled and encountered foreign Ojibwa tribes, we would search for our totemic family.”
“You mean that you would find the family with the Bear totem,” Anna offered.
“Indeed,” Anish agreed. “And that family would be expected to show hospitality and protection.”
“Uh, not to be rude,” Jake interrupted. “But what exactly does this have to do with anything that matters right now?”
“We have established the fact that Alan has ties to the Ojibwa people, including his own blood,” Anish said firmly. “They are known as clues.”
Anna was trying not to laugh at Jake getting slammed by Anish, so she just looked at Jake sternly. His face was getting red and she was sure he was about to blow, but he kept his cool.
“As I was saying…” Anish continued. “By understanding what Alan reads and what he may be practicing deep under his house, we will have a better idea of what is stalking us as we speak.”
“Whatever,” Jake growled. At that moment Anna decided to put Jake behind a desk for the next six months. Maybe then he could find a way to control his attitude and arrogance. If not, he could sit on his ass for the next ten years.
“Let’s go to where Michael was being held,” Anna said.
“This way,” Matthew said as he pushed back the shelf that acted as a door.
“Interesting,” Anna observed as she looked around the shelf and down the flame-lit tunnel. “How far underground does this lead?”
“Well, it was a bit of a walk,” Matthew admitted. “So I would think at least a hundred feet or more.”
“Definitely,” Amy agreed.
“I would say approximately 175 feet,” Jake said.
“How can you be sure?” Matthew asked.
“I have experience,” Jake hissed.
“Isn’t guessing the number of feet the same as guessing the number of jelly beans in the jar? You’re bound by chance alone to be positively dead wrong,” Amy said, making Jake’s face go red again.
As they were walking down the tunnel, a strong breeze blew toward them and extinguished the lights.
“Well that was strange,” Anna said. She wondered how a breeze could move so freely, and powerfully, in an underground tunnel. There were two options. Either this tunnel leads to an exit somewhere in the woods and the wind kicked up, or it was supernatural.
“The same thing happened to us earlier tonight before we found Michael,” Matthew said.
