by J P Barnett
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Steve asked, abruptly changing the subject. “I tried calling, texting. I don’t know what you would have done, but you’re the only person I know who even has a chance at understanding.”
Jake pointed out the window. “My phone’s out there. It was supposed to catch video of it if it came for the sheep.”
Steve stood up. “There’ll be tons of video now. Hardly seems to matter.”
True. Whatever video Jake might have captured would be inconsequential next to the forthcoming avalanche of evidence. Fantasy had become reality now. Steve moved towards the door, though, so Jake put on the nearest t-shirt he could find, slipped on his flip-flops, and followed Steve outside. Maybe new video wouldn’t help, but it gave them both something productive to do.
The sheep’s bleating intensified as they moved towards the trap. Nothing seemed amiss.
“I’m going to put her back in the pen. I’ll be right back,” Steve said, immediately going to work.
Jake took out his phone and looked through the app charged with capturing the video. It reported three newly captured videos, but that didn’t mean there would be evidence of the beast in those files, not that anyone needed it now anyway. He largely ignored the avalanche of texts and missed calls. The ones from Steve and Shandi made sense, but when he read Deirdre’s name on one, something jumped inside him, stealing his focus. Before even looking at the videos, Jake opened Deirdre’s text.
Hey. Steve invited me over for dinner tomorrow. So excited! See you soon.
Every text previous to that one telegraphed professionalism, somber and to the point. Reminders of appointments. Suggestions about pain management. This text from Deirdre marked the first that strayed from her capacity as his physician. Jake found it strangely unsettling, but exciting at the same time.
To have talked to Steve, Deirdre had to have gone to the football game, which also seemed atypical. Stranger still, the text came in tonight. Had she sent it before the incident at the football stadium? Surely, she wouldn’t have sent it afterward. He checked the time of the message with the intention of asking Steve when the beast had shown up.
Jake forced himself to stop thinking about Deirdre and went back to the video app to watch the videos. He hit play on the first one. The placid image never wavered. Perhaps something had moved in and out of the detection zone before the phone started recording.
He hit play on the second video. The head of a sheep moved into frame. Could sheep jump? It appeared that it had, tripping the motion detectors with its own head. No other frames belied movement.
He hit play on the third video just as Steve returned, the faint smell of sheep wafting off him. At first, he saw only more of the still image of dying grass in the moonlight...
But then, right before the end of the video, something blurred across the screen. It moved fast, but they both saw it. The shadowed form took up the entire frame.
Without a word between them, Jake moved the video back and paused at the blur. He clicked through the video frame by frame until one of the frames came into focus. The creature on the screen could not be mistaken for anything else; the large, hairy bipedal beast.
“How the hell? It’s five miles between here and the stadium. When was that video taken?” Steve asked.
Jake backed out of the video and checked the file to find a recording time of forty-five minutes ago. Steve looked at his watch: a quaint old Timex from another decade.
“Okay,” said Steve. “I guess that’s possible if it was moving really fast? It was at the stadium about two hours ago. I can’t believe it’s been that long. I must have stayed after longer than I thought.”
“You said it was moving pretty fast. But why did it come here? And why didn’t it kill the sheep?” Jake said.
“Beats me. I don’t understand why it does anything. What’s driving it? What does it want?”
Jake didn’t have the answer to that question. It had mutilated livestock and at least one cheetah cub. It had killed a gazelle and broken a deputy’s hand. None of it added up to the actions of a creature just trying to survive. It could have surely killed Dub, but it hadn’t. This thing seemed to be driven by something other than instinct alone.
His mind nagged him into bringing Deirdre back into the forefront. “Hey. I know this may be out of left field, but was Deirdre Valentine at the football game by any chance?”
Steve cocked an eyebrow. “Yeah, she was sittin’ with us. Why do you ask?”
Her message had been from one and a half hours ago. That meant she had to have witnessed the incident with the beast and then texted Jake. Why would she not mention something like that? How could having dinner at Steve’s be her number one priority? Perhaps her seeming disinterest masked something more. Surely not.
Jake replied to Steve, “No reason. Just wondered.”
Chapter 14
Shandi had never seen so many cars filling the parking lot of Mikey’s. They almost seemed to be heaped on top of each other, double-parked and up on the curbs. Her intent to quickly grab her lunch at the drive-through was halted by the number of cars parked along the side of the building, cutting off access to the window. She considered abandoning her plan altogether, but luck soon afforded her a parking spot.
When she pulled open the door to the restaurant, the murmurs overwhelmed her. All the seats were taken. The chivalry of the cowboys had them leaning against the few empty walls, while kids played underneath the tables. Though guns were not an uncommon sight in Rose Valley, Shandi couldn’t help but notice how many more of them hung on the hips of its residents today.
“We gotta find this thing,” said one man. “Kill it.”
Dozens of different conversations echoed in the small space, every one of them referencing the beast in one manner or another. Fear. Defiance. Confusion. Shandi could hear it all mixed in with the crowd.
Another woman lamented, “There ain’t nothin’ on the shelves down at the supermarket. Gonna have to eat beans and cornbread for a while.”
Her friend responded, “Y’all oughta come stay with us. We got a whole deer in the freezer still. Might be safer together.”
As Shandi waited in line to order her food, she tried to hold on to as many of the descriptions as she could pick up in the crowd. Someone referred to the beast having glowing eyes, while another added sharp teeth and claws. One old lady described the beast with demonic wings, covered in fire and brimstone—a demon straight from hell, the old lady guessed. Clearly, these residents preferred to gossip rather than search the internet for the dozens of videos that were already popping up online.
“Shandi!” called a voice behind her.
She turned to see Bill, his long form looking particularly haggard. A lot had happened since the mutilation of one of his goats out at Serendipity Ranch.
“I’ve got some pictures you might want to see,” he offered, sidling up beside her.
The entire morning had been a deluge of phone calls and emails. Shandi had already seen enough photos and videos. Heard the rantings. Geneva had stopped answering the phone altogether, and Shandi had thrown together a questionnaire just to give all the people some way of feeling heard. She should have known better than to have stopped here, of all places. If the town was going to congregate anywhere, Mikey’s would be it.
Still, she felt obligated to welcome all news. “Whadya got, Bill?”
He held up his cheap phone in front of her and showed her a blurry picture of the beast next to the football field. He slid through more, one by one, waiting for her to react to each. The photos were fine, Shandi supposed, but she’d already seen better. At least Bill wouldn’t be spreading stupid rumors about wings and claws. Hopefully.
After the slide show had run out, Shandi smiled. “Thanks, Bill. Why don’t you email those to me. Maybe we’ll use’em in the paper.”
They most certainly wouldn’t.
The line moved forward. Only one person left before she could get the energy h
er body begged for.
She’d stayed up practically all night with Dan to alter what had been planned for Saturday’s paper. It had gone to print late, but at least it had the proper front page story about what had happened. Ordinarily, they only made a quick edit after the game to add the score and a brief description, but ordinary no longer applied to their situation. The game had been canceled after the beast had run away; an extremely rare and blasphemous action for Texas high school football.
Shandi and Dan had brainstormed on what they should call the monster and settled on calling it “The Beast.” Though simple, it hearkened back to the existing Rose Valley folklore that Bernard had shared with Jake, even if most people knew nothing of it before Friday night.
The horror now had a name.
The gruff voice of Mikey brought Shandi back to the present. “The usual?”
She nodded as Mikey scratched some indecipherable marks on a green order pad. She didn’t pay attention when he read her the total, took her card, and ran it through the scanner. Business complete, she stepped over to stand among the people crowded around the pickup area.
“Do you think it’s Bigfoot?” a kid asked his mother.
“No. It’s just some sick man,” she suggested. “Sheriff Donner will catch him right quick. Don’t you worry none.”
Shandi had had minimal contact from the Sheriff’s Department since Friday night. She couldn’t imagine how many reports they faced. Normally, she herself would be hounding the department for information, but since she experienced the scene directly and had her own video, she thought it better to leave Cam to deal with the madness.
A man beside them jumped into their conversation. “Did you see how fast that thing moved? Ain’t no man.”
Someone needed to bring these people down from the hysterical high they all seemed to be riding. Shandi wondered whether such anxiety could lead to a riot. Or a mob. Surely both would be more dangerous to Rose Valley than the beast.
“Shandi! Here ya go!” Mike shouted above the roar of the crowd.
Finally. Shandi took the greasy bag from Mikey, grateful for the opportunity to return to her office. To the quiet. To the normalcy.
Or the illusion of it.
Honestly, Shandi doubted that they could ever return to normalcy. In that moment, it felt entirely impossible. Shandi couldn’t name all the ways in which Rose Valley would be irrevocably altered by this event. She knew that regional news outlets would descend upon the town in short order. Maybe the story would even get to the national news; a prospect that provided more fear than excitement.
She squeezed through the crowd as quickly as she could, praying that no one else would stop her. Most of them had already visited the paper earlier in the morning, thankfully, so they had no more use for her.
Her pocket buzzed as she slid down into her car. She dropped her bag of food in the passenger seat and fished out her phone to see a text from Jake.
Sorry I didn’t respond last night. I didn’t have my phone with me. Steve filled me in.
The animated ellipses popped up, indicating another text. Shandi had forgotten that she had even texted Jake.
Another message.
I set up a trap to catch it. I have video proving that it was here at Watermelon Ranch after the game last night.
Shandi hovered her finger over the attachment. Another video to watch. Maybe the fact that the beast had gone to Watermelon Ranch after the game meant something, but it didn’t seem terribly important given the other evidence. She decided to watch it later.
Shandi tapped out a reply.
Thanks. That’s at least something new. Slammed at work right now. I’ll text you later.
She forwarded Jake’s video to Cam and started the car, grateful that no one had blocked her in.
On the drive back to the office, she tried to focus in on the beast. To solve the problem. To even see the problem clearly. An animal would be easy to deal with, even one completely unknown to science. An animal could be hunted. Killed. It could be explained by science. Its patterns could be predicted and accounted for. The beast hinted at something else entirely, seemingly a man but with strength and fortitude that couldn’t be explained.
As she drove through the deserted streets of town, Shandi briefly wondered if maybe Rose Valley should prepare for the prospect of a demon straight from hell.
Chapter 15
Steve lived in a double-wide trailer that had been there as long as Jake could remember. The tangle of steel and rubber at the bottom hid behind a layer of masterfully-laid rocks. The large porch connected to a carport, which gave way to the only entrance into the fence surrounding the house. A cattle guard kept the animals out.
An imposing satellite dish took up most of the back yard, no longer serving any purpose. In their childhood, however, Steve and Jake would stay up all hours of the night trying to catch the pre-aired shows that secretly flew across unpublished satellite links. Occasionally they would hit the motherlode and catch Star Trek: The Next Generation days early. Before girls, such a feat served as the epitome of excitement.
The smell of barbecue saturated the air as Jake walked towards the house. Not simply hamburgers or hotdogs on an open grill, but real, slow-cooked barbecue; likely brisket, the national meat of Texas. The people of Rose Valley heralded Steve for his skills with a smoker.
It looked like Cory had already arrived. The driveway was otherwise empty, which Jake took to mean that Deirdre had not yet arrived. Despite the craziness enveloping Rose Valley, Jake found himself anxious about tonight. He felt like a teenager again as he prepared for the evening, trying on multiple outfits, never quite being satisfied with his options. He settled for a short-sleeve button-up over an army green t-shirt and a pair of worn jeans. He had very nearly shaved off his beard, but thought better of it and settled for a close trim. He looked as respectable as he could muster.
As recently as a few days ago, Jake had written off the Deirdre he’d known in high school. A stoic and cold professional now took her place. She had led him back from injuries that could have left him maimed for life. The prospect of spending time with her outside the clinic now exhilarated but also terrified him.
Putting his post-divorce life back together served as a full-time job, giving him little time to ponder whether he wanted a relationship. A script played in his head, warning him that any attempt at something new would only be ruined by all the same mistakes. As he finally walked onto the porch to start the night, he briefly considered going back to the shanty and texting in sick.
As Jake reached up to knock, he marveled at the resiliency of the human mind. Not twenty-four hours beforehand, they had all been part of something that should have altered their perception of reality, and maybe it had in ways that hadn’t yet registered. Here they gathered, worried about relationships and barbecue, pretending like the violent creature skulking in the shadows didn’t really exist. Maybe as defense mechanism, but Jake welcomed the distraction.
The door opened without him having to knock. Cory emerged on the other side of the screen door wearing a blue apron with a cowboy boot on the front, his easy smile shining.
“Are you Steve’s sous chef now?” Jake teased as Cory propped open the screen door for him.
“I wish. He won’t let me touch anything. Every time I try to help, he takes over. I think he might have a complex. He did let me set the table, though, so I guess I’m more of a maid.”
Jake laughed and stepped into the house, still surprised at the decades-old decorations that still filled the shelves and walls. When Steve had moved in after his parents’ passing, he’d left things mostly the same.
A few new additions dotted the room here and there, however. Steve’s high school rodeo trophies adorned some of the shelves. The number of photos increased over the years, now showing off his parents, his brother, and Cory. The television stretched larger than Steve’s mom would ever allow, and the giant computer desk that had once taken up a large portion of the livi
ng room had now morphed into a small, skinny table bearing no electronics whatsoever.
“Have a seat.” Cory ushered Jake into the living room. “Can I get you something to drink? Wine, beer, bourbon?”
Cory and Jake didn’t know each other very well. Surprisingly, Cory hadn’t gone to school with them in Rose Valley. He had grown up in an even smaller town—if that could be believed—called Pecan Pass, fifteen miles up the road.
“I’ll just take some water,” Jake said. “If you’ve got any.”
Cory grinned. “I dunno. If it weren’t for me, I think Steve would live on canned beans. His cupboards are pretty bare.”
Cory disappeared into the kitchen, just around the corner from the living room. Jake could hear the preparations underway. The living room boasted only a couch and a loveseat, and Jake lowered himself into the latter.
Cory popped around the corner. “Heads up.”
A bottle of water came hurtling through the air. Jake twisted to catch it but missed and the bottle sailed past and struck the floor. Cory laughed. Jake picked it up and took a long swallow, wishing he had been graced with better reflexes.
Steve’s voice echoed from the kitchen: “Are you nervous?”
Jake figured the question was for him. “Umm... I dunno. I guess? I’m mostly confused. She never let on at the clinic.”
Steve appeared from around the corner, wearing no apron. Just his typical Wranglers, t-shirt and cowboy boots. “I dunno about that, but she seemed all kinds of excited when I invited her. You must have tickled her fancy somehow.”
“I bet he tickled her fancy real good,” Cory said.
Steve turned back to the kitchen with a smile on his face. “Back to work, you.”
He walked towards the door, grabbed a baseball cap from a rack full of them, and turned back to Jake, cocking his head towards the open door. Jake recognized the nod as friend code for “come outside with me so we can talk.” Jake grabbed his bottle of water and followed Steve outside to the smoker. Jake’s mouth began to water as they got closer to it. It smelled divine.
