The Jersey Devil

by Hunter Shea

  Oh, but you’ll wish you were dead.

  * * *

  Daryl couldn’t sit and watch what was about to transpire. The Jersey Devil had completely removed all of the woman’s clothing, while her friend watched, struggling against the smaller demons.

  It spread its wings as wide as they could go, blocking everything from view. The creature dropped to its knees, and the woman’s blubbering cries escalated into the mother of all wails.

  His jaw ached from grinding his molars. Glancing at the knife in his hands, he knew it wouldn’t be enough. If he was lucky, he’d take it by surprise, maybe put a nice gash in its wings. But then all bets were off. It would tear him to shreds. There was no avoiding it. Maybe he’d buy the women some time, give them a chance to run.

  What if Jane tried to stop them? Once she realized he was no longer any help to her, would she feed these sheep to the wolf?

  She will and you know it. Jane’s long gone. She’ll do whatever it takes to survive. Just have to hope she can’t get out of that damn hole.

  “Fuck it.”

  Daryl sprang from behind the fallen trees, rushing at the Devil with the blade held over his head. If he could somehow sink it to the hilt in back of the thing’s neck, they all might stand a chance. He just prayed he didn’t hit bone.

  One of the smaller Devils screeched like a wounded bird just as he was about to plunge the knife.

  The Jersey Devil whirled around, wings spread wide, accepting him into a foul embrace. The knife connected with its shoulder. Daryl felt resistance. The blade fell from his hand just as the creature put him in a bear hug, bringing him face-to-face with a vision of hell’s own nightmares come to life.

  Its eyes blazed crimson with an eternal light that came from someplace far, far away.

  Daryl stared into a face that was at once that of a horse, but with the ability to convey human emotion, the muscles working in ways that no animal’s could—or should. It didn’t appear frightened or surprised or even angry.

  No, the Jersey Devil instead flashed an unearthly smile, the way a parent would look to a child that had done something wrong and just needed a light scolding. It had no fear of him. He saw in that gaze a creature that had never known fear because it was fear, a beast so horrible, even the boogeyman would run screaming from its sight.

  It snorted at him, a sick smell blasting through its wide nostrils, reeking of rotted roadkill and brine from a diseased sea.

  For the first time, Daryl also saw the flaking stumps of horns on its head, the rounded ends discolored and chipped.

  Its grip was like being pinned between two cars. Daryl’s feet no longer touched the ground. It was almost impossible to breathe. He couldn’t tell if the girls were trying to make an escape. He was entirely entombed in the Devil’s embrace.

  “Go on, kill me,” Daryl spat. The pain was excruciating. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  But he was. In fact, his terror was so complete, he’d rather die than spend another moment in its presence.

  A black tongue protruded from its long, curved mouth.

  Oh, Christ, don’t touch me with that thing!

  Daryl turned his face away, no longer able to stare into the abyss of its glare.

  As its tongue traced a wet trail over his cheek, starting from his jawline and slithering up to his forehead, Daryl felt something vibrate through the Devil’s body.

  Its hideous face turned away from him. Daryl saw a thick branch lash out, catching it right on its nose. It wailed an inhuman cry, dropping Daryl.

  As he hit the ground, he saw the naked woman swing again, missing. One of the smaller Devils jumped on her back, claws digging into her skin. Blood trailed from the wounds as she twisted under its weight. The woman on the ground tried to wrestle herself out from under the Devil on her chest. Desperate, she smashed at it with her fists, voicing her desperation with a primal scream.

  The crack of a gunshot brought the melee to a momentary stop.

  “Get down!” he shouted at the naked woman. She stared back at him with a blank expression, eyes darting every which way, searching for the shooter. The creature on her back stopped tearing at her flesh.

  Even the big bastard paused, sniffing at the air.

  When Daryl saw his brother push through the brush, his AR-15 pointed right at the Jersey Devil, Daryl looked to the beast and said, “Oh, man, are you fucked.”

  * * *

  April’s mind reeled at the scene before them.

  To see Daryl not only alive, but not bleeding or severely wounded made her heart do triple beats.

  There was a naked woman, a creature latched on to her back. It looked like it must hurt like hell, but the woman had the faraway stare of someone who’d checked out, not registering the pain.

  Another woman was pinned to the ground by two more Devils.

  And then there was the life-size Jersey Devil itself in all its twisted and formidable glory.

  “Holy sh-sh-shit,” Norm sputtered.

  Ben’s warning shot had given them time to assess the situation.

  “I’ve got the ones on the ground,” she said.

  “I’ll take the big one,” Boompa said.

  “No,” Ben said. “If I hit it with this, it’s not going anywhere this time.”

  The Jersey Devil let loose with a mix of a roar and an eagle’s screech. Before anyone could take their shot, it flapped its wings, heading straight up.

  “No, you don’t!” Daryl shouted. He charged at the Devil, wrapping his arms around one of its legs. The sudden weight shift put a stop to its ascent. Daryl looked to Ben. “Shoot it!”

  The moment Ben pulled the trigger, the Jersey Devil veered to the left, dragging Daryl with it. The shot missed by inches, taking out a chunk of a tree trunk behind it.

  “Dammit!” Ben cursed. He darted after the creature, Daryl clinging to it, tugging on its legs and trying to skew its equilibrium.

  “I . . . I can’t believe it,” Gordon Leeds said beside her. “I’ve spent all my life knowing he was out here, but I never imagined . . .”

  April ran to the women, worried about using her gun now that the smaller ones were all riled up and in full motion. If she could get close enough, she’d deliver a nice head shot to the beasts.

  Her grandfather and Norm were at either side.

  “Go on, get! Heyaaah!” Boompa bellowed, the same way he got animals on the farm to get moving. It worked, because the Devils scampered away from the women.

  April pulled the trigger and watched with delight as the knee of one of the Devils exploded in crimson gore. It twirled in the air before collapsing in a writhing tangle.

  She kept advancing, reaching down to pull one of the women to her feet. The naked one stared upward as the creature that had been on her back flew away. Boompa and Norm took shots but missed.

  The remaining Devil had flown away as well, but it came roaring back, heading straight for April.

  “Down!” she shouted, dragging the woman back to the ground. The Devil went for April this time, its jaws open wide, speeding to wrap around her face.

  She held her Beretta with both hands and fired. Its head became a red mist two feet before it reached her. Its body continued on its path, hitting into her shoulder hard before tumbling to a dead stop. Her shoulder made a loud pop as the bones dislocated from the impact, slipping back into place the second she rolled over in pain. Her mouth filled with dirt as she howled from the pain.

  “Go help Ben,” she wheezed, momentarily winded.

  “Are you all right, honey?” Boompa said.

  “Right as fucking rain,” she said, grabbing her shoulder.

  The three men ran to where the Jersey Devil had flown.

  “Stay right there! We’ll be back!” Boompa shouted as they slipped out of sight.

  April glanced at the two women. They looked like they had been to hell and back, then hell again for shits and giggles. “Stay close to me in case one of those things returns.”

  �
��Are you sure you can shoot with that arm?” the one with the clothes said.

  April nodded. “Trust me, if I need to, I could shoot an elephant gun.”

  Chapter Thirty-nine

  “Daryl, just let go already!” Ben shouted, leaping over a crumbling log.

  His brother kept tugging at the Devil’s leg. He wasn’t a small guy, and it was doing the trick of keeping the creature from flying away—at least for now. The last thing Ben wanted was to watch his brother get taken away again. The odds of finding him amid over one million acres a second time were too infinitesimal to even consider.

  “Just kill the damn thing, bro!” Daryl barked.

  “I can’t!”

  Any shot he took carried the risk of hitting his brother. The Devil jerked in the air, up and down, left and right. It was impossible to get a bead on it.

  “If you let it go, I can try!” Ben barked.

  “If I let go it’ll get away!”

  Daryl’s body smashed into a tree. He and the Devil spun in a crazy circle. Still, he held on. Ben was about to yell at him again that this wasn’t a fucking rodeo when he watched his brother’s body sail free, tumbling through the brush and out of sight.

  To his relief, it didn’t turn to have a go at Daryl. It knew it had to get away, fast.

  He squeezed the trigger—once, twice, again and again. The Jersey Devil swooped between the trees. Ben watched as bits of bark filled the air like snowflakes. The creature was fast, almost impossibly agile, as if it knew where each bullet was going to be a split second before it arrived.

  How the hell am I missing it?

  It was just like back at the cemetery. His military career was chock full of commendations for his marksmanship. Even on a bad day, he could shoot out the eye of a passing pigeon. This creature was almost as big as a man, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t even wing the damned thing.

  A pair of blasts behind him had Ben ducking.

  His grandfather, Norm and Leeds had arrived, out of breath and trigger-happy. Their shots didn’t even come close—and it was getting away, sailing up farther and farther toward the canopy.

  Ben ran to get closer. Maybe, if it was concentrating on getting so far overhead they couldn’t see it, much less shoot at it, the Devil wouldn’t expect him to get right underneath it and send a parting gift its way.

  Something snagged his foot and he skidded to one knee.

  “Son of a—”

  He looked up.

  The tail end of the Devil was still visible, the wide, leathery wings pushing hard, reaching for the blue sky and freedom.

  Only one chance left.

  Using pure instinct, he swung the AR-15 upwards and fired. There was no time to line up a shot. He was at the mercy of blind luck.

  He almost shouted in triumph when he heard the Jersey Devil’s pained screech. It pulled one wing to its side for a moment, slowing down its retreat.

  He’d hit it! But where? Was it the wing, or the beast’s side?

  No matter, it was wounded.

  Before he could take another shot, it broke through the canopy, turning sharply to the east and out of sight.

  Someone groaned to his right. There was a rustling of leaves, and Daryl stood up, holding his head with both hands.

  “I think you winged it,” Daryl said.

  “I hope I did more than that,” Ben said. “I hope the fucker is bleeding out right now.”

  “You’re starting to sound like April.”

  Daryl made a pained smile. He wobbled a bit, his knees threatening to buckle. Ben rushed to hold his brother up. “You break anything?”

  “Maybe a rib or two. If they weren’t before I took that fall, they are now. Other than that, I’m fine.”

  Slipping his arm around Daryl’s waist, he said, “Just lean into me.”

  When he saw the relief in Boompa’s eyes, he almost smiled. Their grandfather dropped his rifle and ran, clutching them in a tight embrace.

  “I thought we’d lost you,” he said, his voice shaking, on the verge of tears. Ben had always considered Boompa someone who was larger than life, both in size and personality. He’d never seen him cry, not even at his grandmother’s funeral.

  Daryl adjusted his Mets cap. “It’s more like I lost all of you. I don’t even know where the hell I am right now.”

  “It took you back to its home,” Ben said. “We’re at Leeds Point.”

  Daryl’s eyebrows rose. “I know exactly where it hides out. There’s an old foundation back there. I think it dug under it and stays there. It . . . they have other places, too.” He looked at Gordon Leeds. “Who’s this guy? And where are Mom and Dad?”

  Boompa said, “This here is Gordon Leeds. And before you ask, he is a descendant. That foundation is all that’s left of the real Leeds homestead.”

  Leeds said, “You say that it’s tunneled its way under there?”

  Daryl nodded.

  Leeds scratched at his head, pondering.

  “And there’s a woman down there, too. I think she’s been living with the Devil for some time. She keeps calling the smaller ones her babies. You don’t think it’s possible, do you?”

  Norm cut in. “No, it can’t be. Interspecies p-procreation isn’t possible.”

  “I told you, despite appearances, that damn Devil is not an animal,” Leeds said. He looked to Ben. “Now you know why we call it a he. And it looks like he’s been very busy. I hope that woman is still there.”

  Daryl winced with pain when he said, “There’s a good chance she’s run off. If she hadn’t spoken to me, I’d have sworn she’d gone full-tilt feral. She’s strong as hell, too, for someone that looks like they’ve skipped a year’s worth of meals.”

  “Was she that naked woman back there?” Boompa asked.

  “No, a different naked woman. She got shoved into the foundation by the Devil. She could still be down there.”

  Ben shifted his body to take on more of Daryl’s weight as they walked. Now there was another woman involved? And the monster had been able to mate with her? But no one woman could give birth to so many of those things.

  Unless there were others.

  Chapter Forty

  April learned that the two women were Heather and Daniela. She gave her shirt to Daniela. It was just long enough to cover her privates, but it was better than the nothing she had.

  “But what about you?” Daniela asked, her voice sounding far away, circling out where April was sure her mind had flown.

  “Don’t you worry about me. It’s summer. I’d be in my bikini now anyway.”

  Heather filled April in on everything that had happened to them—from their boyfriends being slaughtered in front of them all the way to the Jersey Devil trying to have its way with Daniela. No wonder her friend had checked out. The words poured out in a torrent. She rarely stopped to even take a breath. April waited for Heather to break down at several points. She could hear the hitch in her voice, see the film of tears, but Heather never stopped. It was as if she knew something terrible was moments away from befalling them, and this was her only chance to tell their story before the shit hit the fan.

  That feeling may be right, April thought.

  She didn’t have the sense that any of those things were around, but she was no expert.

  “There’s another woman,” Heather said. April tried to take Daniela’s hand, but the dazed woman walked in circles around the sunken foundation.

  “Was she with you, too?”

  “No.”

  “She’s down there,” Daniela said, pointing.

  April ran to the edge of the deep depression. A woman lay on her back, her body streaked with grime and bruises. Her eyes were closed, her chest rising and falling in irregular spasms. She was naked, too.

  Sighing, April said, “I’m running out of clothes.” She turned to Heather. “You think you could haul her up if I bring her over to you?”

  Heather kept glancing at the sky. Waiting.

  “Yeah,
I can do it.”

  Looking to Daniela, who now sat cross-legged, watching them, April wondered if a small slap to the face would snap her out of it. The woman in the hole would be deadweight. Heather looked ready to collapse. If she couldn’t grab hold of the woman and pull her out, April was going to buckle under her weight.

  “You can’t always get what you want,” she murmured.

  “What?” Heather asked.

  Waving her off, April said, “Nothing.”

  But we did get Daryl back, so quit complaining. I just hope they’re all right. I heard the shots. Please let them be on their way back, preferably with a monster’s head on a damn stick.

  Her father’s face flashed briefly in her mind, but she quickly shut it out. If she lingered, she’d break apart. She had to hold herself together.

  The woman stunk like she hadn’t bathed in years. Judging by her appearance, that most likely wasn’t far off. A bright red gash on her forehead trickled blood into her hairline.

  “Hey,” April said, bending close to her face. “Can you hear me?” She brushed the woman’s cheek with the back of her hand.

  “Is she okay?” Heather said.

  “I think even if she wasn’t unconscious, I wouldn’t exactly say she was okay.”

  What had happened to her? How did she get like this? And how was she connected with the Devil?

  April elevated the woman’s head, tapping her cheek. The wound on her head was pebbled with dirt.

  “April!”

  It was Daryl!

  Gently laying the woman back down, April ran to where Heather was perched.

  “I’m down here!”

  Daryl and Ben’s heads poked into view. Her older brother looked tense enough to turn to stone.

  “Hey there, Hag,” Daryl said with a lopsided grin.

  April’s face brightened. “Welcome back, schmuck. Where’s Boompa?”

  “We’re all okay,” Daryl said. “Big brother here clipped the fucker.”

  “But it still got away,” Ben said, his jaws flexing.

  Daryl’s eyes went as big and round as baseballs. He shouted, “Jane!”

  Before April could turn around, a pair of hands wrapped around her throat. She was thrown off her feet, struggling for air.