“It should be up here in another couple of kilometers along this road,” Amber explained again.
“ROAD? HAH! Deer trail more like,” Amber double-checked to make sure he was still grinning.
But soon enough, Amber proved to be right as they came over a rolling hill with the moonlight illuminating an unlit little farmstead in the distance. It looked amazingly quaint, which to Hunter's mind translated as uncomfortable. Still, it did look relatively well kept, which offered hope for some level of civility. There was a barn, and a few out buildings, stained wood, and a weird roof were much in evidence. In some weird way, the roof on the house reminded Hunter of Darth Vader's helmet the way it leaned out over the actual building.
They sat in the car for a moment, the headlights shining on the silent building. “Alright, it's cute. But now let's try and find some lamps and the generator. Did we bring any flashlights? ” Hunter asked.
“Yep,” Amber said reaching into the glove box, “here you are.”
“Alright, you go unlock, Dan and I will hunt for a generator.”
Alorg had been working his way down from the peaks of the mountains since he had found the strange person by the fire. He wanted to avoid people as much as possible. His hunger said that he needed them, and he certainly felt better since his feast. But, he had seen from his reflection in a puddle that they would panic if they saw him. His teeth jutted out where there was not enough flesh to cover them, his hair existed only in small tattered patches. His skin, such as it was, looked like poorly tanned skins. People would stampede to look at him, even with the fine warm clothes he had taken from his meal.
He needed to eat more, and that meant to be a hunter. To catch individuals unaware and alone, to make them his meals until he felt stronger and less vulnerable. He knew instinctively that the more man-flesh he consumed, the stronger and more whole he would be. Maybe after his next meal, there would be enough of him he could even bath. He had never been a diligent bather before, but he had noticed on his trek from the heights of the range a stench about him. It must be amazingly powerful he wondered if he could smell it at all with so little of his nose still on his face. It smelled of an animal hit by a spear that didn't die. One that just wandered for days with the stick in it, tearing at its flesh, and exposing it to rot and disease. He smelled exactly like they did when the hunters sometimes found them dead later.
He had been studying the strange structures since he had come across it late last night. There seemed to be no movement inside or out, but a good hunter knows not to assume. He had waited until the sun had gone down today to examine them closer. He had walked around the largest a few times listening and looking for any movement at all. Finally, he had convinced himself that they were empty.
Entering the large and open building, he saw straw everywhere, but no sign of anyone. His eyes were just adjusting to the dim light when he heard the roar in the distance. He grabbed a large timber that was by the large open door to defend himself and crept outside again to see what could possibly be making a noise like thunder crossed with an animal roar.
He crouched low, terrified by the four beams of light coming towards him, and the mighty roar that accompanied it. He didn't flee, though, maybe these things would be related to men in some way that would lead him to sustenance? He also didn't flee for fear of giving up cover, the beams of light were proceeding quickly, if it was some manner of animal, they'd easily run him down if he exposed himself to them.
The things stopped. Their sides opened! And he heard the voices of man! The things were transport it seemed, transport that had brought his meal to him! All he had to do now, was use the weapon in his hand when he could find one of them alone. If he stayed quiet and kept his presence hid, he would have, multiple meals tonight!
It had turned out it was a good thing they had flashlights, the generator was in the basement. The basement was an ancient structure, the stairs down were rickety and elderly, their green paint worn down the center of each step where the footfalls of generations had fallen. The walls were made of huge and ancient stones, with no mortar visible in their construction anymore. The only part of the floor made of stone or brick were raised areas for the hot water heater, a washer, and dryer, and the generator itself, probably to prevent rust.
By the time Dan and Hunter made it back inside, Amber had already lit some lamps, and the place almost looked quite cozy. “Any luck?” she asked as the came back in.
In response, Hunter flicked the switch by the door, flooding the room with illumination. “Maybe,” he said smiling.
“Smart ass. Alright which one of you rugged outdoorsmen thinks they can get the fire lit?”
“First things first, let's go get the supplies out of the car,” Hunter said.
None of them noticed the glinting eyes peering ravenously at them from the corner of the barn.
The house had a Television, and it must have had a satellite dish somewhere they hadn't seen since they were getting multiple channels. All the comforts of home really, along with a roaring fire. The cases of Egger and Sierrvoise beer Hunter had brought along made the night even better. With the power on, the beers were finally beginning to get cold in the fridge, but by now, all three of them had gotten buzzed enough on warm ones not to care.
They had talked a bit, both Hunter and Dan bouncing wildly exaggerated tales of college off of each other. Amber would join in a little bit, sometimes adding a bit of her own, but mostly she was trying to fix all of this in her head. It seemed like such a wonderfully random experience, to be hanging out in a Swiss farmhouse, with somebody you met at a glacier. Everything about it was the type of thing you end up telling your kids about when you're older after all of your trips involve them coming along.
They had already burned up the wood that had been laid out, though. None of them felt up to the task of FINDING if the place had a furnace let alone trying to fire it up tonight. That meant finding more wood. “There's got to be a woodshed here somewhere,” Hunter announced getting up a little unsteadily.
“Naw, sit down man, “Dan said getting up. “Let me get it, you guys got the place and the beer, least I can do is bring in the wood.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
Dan walked out the front door flashlight in hand. In the front of the house, it was still pretty bright, and it really wasn't very necessary, but since the woodpile was probably in the rear, he figured it would be pitch black around there. He was humming a bit to himself as he went, it was a nice night, he'd met some new friends, he was warm and happy from the beer. It was far better than what he was hoping for when he got up this morning, which was a lonely hotel room, or worse, a night being the only American at a bar again. European's didn't mean to be condescending, but as a man of science, he had an automatic inferiority complex as an American, he had seen some of the election's at the turn of the 21st century too.
He went between the barn and the house to get to the back. Most of these old farmsteads had the barn and the woodpile as close to the house as possible. Nobody wanted a long walk in winter to milk a cow or get more wood. When he got around the corner, he saw immediately that the flashlight was a good idea. It was as dark as the view from the inside of your eyes, the house blocking all of the available moonlight.
He had a brief moment of sensing something stepping into the moonlight behind him, then a flash of white behind his eyes! Then, everything went midnight black.
His plan was working! The first of the males was down! The other would most likely come out when this one didn't come back, and then he would have food enough to move around more! The female he had no plans to eat, at least not at first. He wanted her alive and well, for now, he wasn't just hungry for food.
He looked down at the first male. It was maddening that he couldn't feed completely yet! But he needed to get back out of sight before the other male came to look for this one! This one, in and of itself would be a feast as was! But two meals were better than one, and
definitely better yet than only part of one if he should get caught eating this one.
He reached down and lifted the arm to view the face of this one. How strange, these new men were without any facial hair. They looked almost female to him. He knew he needed to flee to re-set the trap. He was about to put the man's arm back down, when he thought, “Well, maybe just a bite.”
There was a crunch breaking the night's silence.
“Hey, hun?”
“Yeah?” asked Hunter taking a pull on his beer.
“Don't you think Dan's been gone a while now?” she asked turning to him.
His eyes went blank for a moment, as he thought it through his fuzzed mind, “Yeah come to think of it.... I better check on him to make sure he didn't fall or hit his head or something.”
“Please hun,” she said with a grateful smile, “he's our guest and I'd hate to leave him passed out with a knot on his noggin.”
Hunter got to his feet, staggering just a little and headed for the doors. “Here's hoping he just tried to grab too much wood and is just fightin' with it, ya?”
“I'm hoping for you,” she grinned, “he looks heavy.”
“He's out cold, you're helping,” he said turning on his flashlight and heading out.
He turned the light on immediately, even though he didn't need it immediately. He'd been inside for a while and didn't want to stumble on something while his eyes adjusted. There was also some solid drunk logic there. Go outside, need light, turn light on, debating WHEN you needed it turned on might as well be calculus.
“Dan?” he called out. He stood waiting for a moment, but, there was no answer. Must have hit his head, or he's taking a leak or something he thought, walking back towards the woodshed. He swung his light around the corner. He saw Dan clearly, lying in the grass right in front of the woodshed itself! There was a dark shine in the grass near him.
“Oh shit!” Hunter exclaimed rushing forward to his fallen new friend. “Dan!” he exclaimed kneeling down to check on him. As he was sinking down quickly, he felt the disturbance in the air above him!
“What the fuck!” he exclaimed whirling around flashlight in hand. The light splayed in front of him, and he saw it! It could only be described as, an it! It was like one of those mummies you saw on National Geographic that they found in the Andes. Its skin like old parchment, yellow and cracked looking. Its hair and beard in tatters. Its teeth sticking out in front of the jaw where the lips had long ago pulled back! But with two important differences to those archaeological finds, its eyes blazed with life at him, even as it blinked from the flashlight in its face. The other difference, and this was major, most Andean mummies didn't wear the full North Face hiking outfit!
The thing was winding up for another swing at him! Hunter bolted forward under the swing, and kept running! He heard the thing howl behind him with frustration at his escape! If anything the sound created a newfound sobriety in him, and he ran for the house!
He could hear the thing pounding behind him! If he could get inside there would HAVE to be some weapon there! “Amber! There's something out here! Look for a weapon! ” he yelled.
Amber jolted alert at the sound! A weapon? What could possibly be out there? A bear? Do they even HAVE bears here? She looked around in a panic, Hunter had sounded absolutely serious about it. Glancing at the walls, she got a glimpse of a sickle hanging on the wall as a decoration.
Well, that counted as a weapon didn't it? She doubted the place had a gun handy, so it would have to do. Grabbing it off the wall, she rushed over to the door.
Just as Hunter was reaching for the door, the thing hit him viciously in the side with the board it was carrying! He thought he felt something crunch in his ribs as he fell and rolled away! He stumbled back into the night trying to get back to his feet, as the thing stalked towards him now! His feet kept slipping away from him on the damp nighttime grass! If he could just get to his feet! He could get to the cars!
He only hoped he had the keys on him, he couldn't tell if they were in his back pocket where he normally kept them. If he had the keys, he could start the car and run the damned thing down! If he didn't, well he'd have to cross that when he got there, but it should at least buy Amanda time to find a weapon to defend herself.
His own issues were closer to hand, his breath coming in short gasps from the pain of where he'd been slammed in the ribs. He kept trying to get up, but he couldn't get his feet under him to get up! The pain in his ribs kept him from turning around to run! The monster was stalking him now, looking for the angle to finish him! As he loomed closer, the thing was all he could see! The eyes gleamed in the moonlight, driven by some unholy lust to kill! Kill him! If only he could get to his damned feet!
“NOOOOO!!!!!” he yelled as the monster brought the hunk of wood he'd already stuck him with up to finish him!
He was wincing in anticipation of the blow when he saw Amber's arm snake in front of the creature. In one sweeping motion, she swept the weapon she held, he couldn't see what it was, across the creatures throat!
The monster gasped, its eyes went wide. The beam of wood it had clutched with both hands fell to the ground with a clunk as its hands flew to its throat! Hunter swung his flashlight back on to the thing. He saw Amber bounce away from the beast, what he could see as a sickle now raised to strike again! Blood, dark, as to be almost black, bubbled out from between its fingers, first in a trickle and them in a great gushing stream! There was no way the desiccated monstrosity could possibly even hold so much!
Its mummified flesh and hair itself now began to crumble off it in clumps, falling to the ground with a sickening noise! It sunk to its knees now, staring straight at Hunter the monster's eyes gaping wide! He trained his light now directly on the thing's face, as it made gasping choking noise. The blood that flowed from the wound now had no trace of red in it at all, and had turned the black of the grave!
He saw Amber coming up behind the decomposing horror. While he watched entranced, she drew her leg up and delivered a front snap kick to the back of thing. It collapsed completely to the ground with a clatter, as it continued to rot away before them! Until all that was left was a pile of bones encased in a high-end hiking outfit.
Hunter slumped back the rest of the way onto his elbows wincing in pain. He and Amber stared at each other in stunned silence. Neither of them could think of anything to say to break the silence. Some things are so far out of one's realm of thought, that there is nothing that one can say. Mankind's normal desire to talk, for the joy of hearing their own voice, is suddenly damped into silence.
A voice near the house, broke the calm, “Anybody care to give me the slightest hint as to what in the hell that was?”
They both looked to where the noise had come, “Dan!” they shouted in unison. He was standing in the light near the window. His one hand was covered in blood, his other was holding him up against the wall.
Amber came over and helped Hunter slowly to his feet, and the both went over to him. “Jesus buddy I thought you were a goner!” Hunter gasped.
“My head hurts like hell, and my hand is a mess, but I'm alive. I'm sure I've got a concussion, so I have to ask, did I just see that?” Dan asked smiling weakly.
“I'll tell you what, I won't tell if you don't,” Hunter grinned weakly back.
“Well what are we going to tell a doctor?” demanded Heather.
“Well, my hand seems to have stopped bleeding, “ said Dan.
“We've got a first aid kit in the car, “Hunter added, “its got tape, we can just tape up my ribs. That's all a doctor would do anyway.”
“What are you two saying?”
“What we're saying Hunny, is we have beer, we have a place to stay, and we have all the medical gear we need. What we aren't doing, is telling a Doctor that a reanimated mummy with hipster fashion sense attacked us,” Hunter said.
“Well, what do you want me to do?” Amber pleaded.
“Well,” Dan said thoughtfully, “you could help us brin
g in that firewood.”
THE END.
HONEY AND OIL by Kev Harrison
There’s something different out there in the mountains. Of course, the terrain is different. Iron-hard granite underfoot and jagged outcrops protruding from the most impossible of places. The weather is out of the ordinary, too. The altitude means there’s snow in winter, and dew glistens on the grass maybe three hundred mornings a year. The wind gets up at a moment’s notice and the fog descends even before that. Claustrophobic at times, even with a sky that seems to reach higher than anywhere else. But for all that, there’s something else. Something old. More than just the castles. More than just the names. Call it tradition, call it hoodoo, call it superstition. You can feel it up there. You feel it when you talk to folk. You feel it when you see the sunset over the slate peaks of the next shoulder of the range. You feel it more when you’re alone in the dark, when all you can see is what the stars above care to show you – and that’s often not much more than the steam of your breath. Still more than all of that though, you feel it - are raw with it - when someone dies.
It seemed almost appropriate to Dr. Salvador Santos as he strode, flushed from the pronouncement of young Tomas Freire’s death, to see blood red clouds, sagging with their cargo of snow, which would be lain like a thick white blanket on top of the valley during the coming night. It had been a long, arduous winter for the Freires, in part owing to the long dry summer that had merged into autumn and had left their fields close to barren. But everyone in the town knew that the lines on old Francisco’s face were more to do with Tomas and his rapid decline. After six long years of trying to conceive, to have their only son contract a rare form of lymphoma before his eighth birthday felt like God playing a sick kind of joke. Dr. Santos had sanctioned his coming home for Christmas – there was nothing they could do for him in the central hospital any more, anyway – but here he was not yet into the third week of November and the boy’s last rights had been read. Eyes closed. Tubes removed.
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