Bigfoot War 2: Dead in the Woods, page 1
part #2 of Bigfoot War Series
Coscom Entertainment
winnipeg
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or persons living or dead or any known Bigfoot is purely coincidental.
ISBN 978-1-926712-80-2
Bigfoot War: Dead in the Woods is Copyright © 2011 by Eric S. Brown. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce in whole or in part in any form or medium.
Published by Coscom Entertainment
www.coscomentertainment.com
Text set in Garamond
eBook Edition
Cover art by Gary mcCluskey
Cover design by A.P. Fuchs and Gary mcCluskey
For my son, Merrick, whose imagination knows no bounds.
Chuck
“Man, that’s so lame,” Ryan said with a frown as Chuck cranked up Pat Benatar’s “Shadows of the Night.”
Riding in a beat-up Ford, Chuck shot him a look from the driver’s seat. “It’s from Dance of the Dead,” Chuck said. “Remember the scene with the band?”
“Dance of the Dead sucked, mate. Vanguard, now that was a real zombie flick.”
“Uh-uh, we ain’t having that fight again. Forget it!”
The Ford bounced slowly down the winding gravel driveway from the top of Balasm Mountain towards the interstate. “You think Sarah will be there tonight?”
“Oh, you can bet on it and so will Matt. You need to move on and get over her, buddy. She’s out of your league. I mean, she’s freaking hot, popular, and she has a boyfriend. You’re wearing a Fangoria shirt. Come on.”
“Sarah likes horror. She grew up watching it with her dad.” Chuck pulled onto the main road and punched it. The ancient truck’s engine thumped a couple times as it struggled to pick up speed.
Ryan smirked. “You’re stalking her on Facebook again, aren’t you?”
Chuck turned bright red. “Maybe,” he said weakly.
Ryan shook his head, sighed, and dug out a cigarette from his jacket pocket. He lit up, leaned back against his seat. With the window rolled down, he enjoyed the wind blowing over him as he took his first puff. “Put on some Iron Maiden. I’d love to hear ‘Run to the Hills’ before we get there because that’s what you’re going to be doing when Matt catches you staring at her rear end tonight.”
“Screw you,” Chuck muttered flatly.
“Hey!” Matt sat up. “I’m just trying to help you not get yourself killed.”
“Says the guy who doused the entire football team in pig’s blood at Homecoming. I still haven’t figured out how you’re not in jail or at least suspended for that one.”
He shrugged. “Dad’s got green. Green rules the world. End of story.”
Chuck loved Ryan like a brother, but at times like this even he wanted to punch him in the teeth. Compared to himself, Ryan was the king of the county. His dad was insanely rich so he had a permanent get-out-of-trouble-free card tucked in his family tree. He had the whole artsy, bad boy thing, too. It also didn’t hurt Ryan was a talented writer who’d already been published in more than a few magazines either. His only real fault was his ego, but it was a big one. Chuck didn’t know how Vera put up with him. Of course, she was a user and likely when she got tired of Ryan, she would drop him as fast as she blew him on their first date. Ryan’s story of that was epic, but it didn’t take a quantum physicist to figure out that it really was true. That was just who Vera was—a steamy Goth chick with midnight hair out to prove her sexuality and darkness to everyone. She was the kind of girl who took her dates to the sex aisle of the bookstore when they went out for coffee and asked what they wanted later. Not that this was in any way a bad thing unless you were looking for a serious relationship with her, which, as far as he could tell, Ryan wasn’t.
Ryan was his polar opposite in that regard. As much as Ryan thought otherwise, it wasn’t just Sarah’s blazing hot looks and lust that drew Chuck to her. Sure, she was shapely and well-toned. She hunted bears for crying out loud, and had a healthy dose of tomboy in her, but she always wore dresses to school, looking every inch the southern lady that she was. Her voice was soft like a gentle rain and she held an air of innocence that set his heart to fluttering every time he looked into those ocean-blue eyes of hers. Her long brown hair―which he also had a thing for―was merely a bonus. Chuck had thought all of it over a lot and knew what he felt for her was love, and one day he’d unlock her inner horror geek. They would ride off together like two heroes escaping a city full of the hungry dead to make out in his room watching Dog Soldiers.
“Hey, Chuck” Ryan interrupted his daydreaming. “We got two hours to kill until the party. You wanna hit the comic shop?”
Chuck’s eyes lit up at those magic words and he nodded. “Now that’s a good idea.”
The lot was empty as they pulled in except for Keith’s truck, with its tailgate Transformers and Batman stickers. Ryan noticed there was a new edition to Keith’s collection: a Green Lantern logo glittered in the truck’s rear window above a tattered sticker of the words “Klaatu Barada Nikto.” It was almost closing time but Chuck knew Keith would stay open for Ryan’s seemingly bottomless wallet.
The two of them hopped out of the Ford and went in. The bell above the door jingled as they entered and Ryan headed straight for the new release wall.
Keith glanced up at them from behind the counter where he worked on placing his latest order with the distributor. “The new issue of Legion just came in,” he said to Chuck as he got up and pulled a copy from Chuck’s hold box.
“Awesome.” Chuck grinned like a fool as he slid his billfold from his back pocket. He frowned as he saw he was down to his last twenty dollars. The Ford needed gas and he wanted to have some money on hand in case he was able to lure Sarah away from the party. “Can you hold it for me? I get paid next week.”
“Sure,” Keith said with disappointment and a touch of pity in his voice as he set the issue down on the counter. “Times are tough and these new higher cover prices aren’t helping.”
Ryan came over and plopped a stack of books beside Keith’s register. “Bag and board ’em, too.” Keith set in on totaling up his purchase. Chuck saw Ryan notice the Legion issue lying there. “Go ahead and toss in that one, too. Can’t have my mate here going without his Dream Girl and Shadow Lass fix, now, can I?”
Chuck supposed he should have protested, but he kept his mouth shut. He really wanted the Legion issue and hadn’t missed one in years. If Ryan’s showing off kept his run intact, who was he to complain about it? He’d learned long ago that pride only got you in trouble.
Vera
“Vera?” her dad yelled as she tugged on her fishnets below her low-cut, tux-like shirt.
“What?” she shouted back, searching for her boots.
“Get down here!” he said. “Now!”
She shot a glance at herself in the mirror to make sure she had her “Zee” look on just right. Zatanna made Ryan throb and she wanted him inside her tonight. Needed it, even. Ryan might be sick and perverted but he made her feel alive when his hands tore at her clothes, his breath catching in ragged gasps of longing as he called her name. Tonight, she wanted him wrapped around her little finger because she was planning on asking the question. The one she should have asked a long time ago.
Vera gave her hair a final toss then darted from her room, racing to the stairs. Her dad waited at the bottom with an angry expression and a half-empty bottle of Vodka. The house was in its usual state of empty pizza boxes flung about, overflowing ashtrays, and flies buzzing in the kitchen over the trash that should have been hauled to the dump days before.
Her father’s gaze locked onto her fishnet-covered thighs and moved upwards. “I told you to vacuum today, didn’t I? Your cat has got the carpet crawling with fleas again.”
“Sorry,” she said sarcastically, “I had this thing called school I had to go to.”
He took a step in retreat as she moved closer to him, coming off the stairs. “I’m going out,” she said firmly.
“Dressed like that?” he said with a sneer. “I can give you what you’re looking for right here.”
“You’re drunk.” Vera fought to contain her disgust and kept her calm. “Why don’t you go sleep it off before you start something you’ll regret, Paul?” She shoved him as she spat his name like a curse word.
He unconsciously reached for the scar tissue on his cheek where she’d cut him with her switchblade last year. Defeated, he staggered towards his chair in front of the TV. “What would your mother think of that punk you’re seeing?” he asked without looking back at her. The TV clicked on, springing to life with some football game he’d saved on the DV-R.
“Yeah, what would she think of you?” Vera whispered as she opened the door.
The sun was beginning to sink behind the mountains as she walked across the yard to the road, flipping on her cell. She had to get out of here before they ended up really killing each other. Even if she got the better of her father when the time came, odds were she would end up in jail for a very long time. Girls like her weren’t exactly given equal treatment here in the South, and she knew it. She dialed Ryan’s number and hoped he would answer.
Jonathan
“That’s sick,” Kelly said, keeping her distance.
Jonathan had no such luxury. Someone needed to take a closer look at the corpse. He knelt beside the bear, or rather what was left o
Jonathan hastily got up and moved a few feet away, and stood next to Kelly again.
“Well, I gotta admit, I never seen anything like this before,” he said. “No wonder the Wagner kids were so flipped out from finding it.”
“So what do we do?”
He thought for a second. The light of the setting sun sparkled on the silver sheriff’s badge pinned to his chest. “I reckon for starters we tell the Wagners to keep those kids from coming into these here woods for a bit until we know what we’re dealing with. Anything that would do this to a bear would eat them alive, that’s for sure.”
Kelly nodded. “Good thinking, but surely you don’t believe another animal did this? I mean, this was the work of some messed up sicko. Had to be.”
Jonathan grunted. “How many folks do you know that kill a bear with their bare hands? There’s not a single gunshot or blade wound on the thing.”
“Okay, so my theory isn’t perfect. You have a better one?” she said.
“No,” he admitted, removing his hat and running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I don’t think I do. Regardless, we best be heading in. We’ll get Doc Kim up here tomorrow. I am not hauling that thing into town.”
“Yeah, Halloween ain’t until tomorrow night, but I hear the kids are starting early this year.” Her tone was grim.
Jonathan echoed it as he said, “Let’s hope no one dies this go ’round.”
Last year, A.J. Buchanan and his girlfriend, Naomi, got too drunk and reckless. A.J.’s Mustang hit a tree doing sixty and caught fire before help arrived. To this day, Jonathan wondered if they died on impact or sat there trapped, too injured to move or escape, as the flames melted their skin from their bones. The wreck haunted him. Even though that night he’d been on the other side of the county breaking up a bar brawl, he cursed himself for not sending a deputy to shut down that night’s party sooner than he had. One drink less might have saved their lives and A.J. and Naomi would still be alive today.
Kelly must have noticed his mulling it over for the thousandth time because she laid a hand on his shoulder. “Like you said, not anything else we can do here this evening and it’s going to be a late night, I imagine. You feel like stopping at Clyde’s for some coffee?” She removed her hand, but her expression remained reassuring.
He nodded. “You know, I think I do.”
The two of them walked from the woods to the spot where they left the patrol car, thankful to be leaving the bear’s stench behind them.
As they approached the car, Jonathan’s cell blared to life with his latest ring tone: “Savin’ the Day” from the Ghostbusters soundtrack. Hearing it, even though he knew it meant trouble, made him smile.
Kelly groaned. “It must be starting really early this year.”
“Hello?” he said in his normally cheerful voice. His regained humor crumbled at what he heard. “What?” he said as Stephanie, their office’s dispatcher spoke in a rapid and frantic voice, so fast he could barely understand her. He closed the phone, wide-eyed and stunned. “Something’s happened in Babble Creek.”
“What?”
“The military has closed all the roads going into Haywood County and something pretty dang ugly is happening over there. As to what, I’m sure we’ll soon find out.”
Sarah
Sarah held her breath. Her entire being was focused and centered on the target. She relished that blissful moment of perfection where she was at peace and certain of the outcome. Her finger squeezed the trigger. The .30-.06 bucked in her hands as the round erupted from its barrel. The shot slammed home, striking the tiny red dot at the target’s center. She breathed out slowly, lowering the weapon.
“Do you ever miss?” Bobbi said in apparent awe. The redhead stood with Matt at the back of the range. Sarah chuckled at Bobbi’s amazement.
“Sarah’s the best,” Matt told her, but there was no pride or real feeling in his voice as he spoke the words. Sarah saw him check his watch then motioned for her to hurry up.
“We have to go, honey. I bet the rest of the band are already there and wondering where we are,” Matt said.
Sarah sighed and returned the rifle to its home in its case.
“Besides,” he droned on, leaning in to give her a peck on the cheek, “you’ve got to get dolled up, too.”
Sarah was naturally beautiful and most boys would have drooled over her in the camo pants and T-shirt she wore, her long brown hair tied in a tight ponytail, but not Matt. He wanted his trophy girl in a dress with her makeup flawless. Of late, Matt’s demands were beginning to take their toll on her. She understood his need to look the part of the singer he was. His budding career and drive she could relate to from her own love of hunting, but Matt was taking it all too far. Signing at eighteen, even if it was to an “indie” country western label, was impressive, but it was no reason to turn into a jerk.
“Can I come with you?” Bobbi asked. “I need to freshen up myself.”
Sarah nodded and turned to head for the house. Matt smacked her bottom and playfully whooped as she passed him. He smiled. “That’s my girl.”
She gave him a scowl, but he didn’t seem to notice. His mind was likely lost in thinking about the show he’d be playing in about an hour for the party out at the Falls.
As Sarah and Bobbi reached the front door, Bobbi said, “Matt’s sweet, isn’t he? Handsome, too, and so, so talented. You’re really lucky to have him.”
Sarah feigned a smile but didn’t say a word. Her heart simply wasn’t in it anymore. She could remember when she would have said the same things about Matt, but those days felt long ago and lost in the shadows of the past. Now, he was more like a burden than anything else. Soon, she would find the courage to end it and then maybe Bobbi could have her turn if she thought Matt was so great. Most girls at school did. He was so charming; he could melt an iron heart when he wanted to. The catch was he’d never love anyone as much as he did himself and his music. Second fiddle wasn’t good enough for Sarah. She had her own plans for the future with or without Matt in it.
She picked a loose floral dress from her closet that added to the allure of her figure, but was still comfortable and easy to move in. She let down her hair and shook it, quickly running a brush through it a couple of times. Satisfied with her reflection in the mirror, she met Bobbi in the hallway as the redhead emerged from the guest bathroom and stepped into her path.
“This is really some house,” Bobbi said. “Your dad’s the guy who runs the paper mill, right?”
Sarah ignored the question. “Matt hates to be kept waiting. I bet he’s already got the car cranked.” She opened the door to the yard, ushering Bobbi into the fading sunlight as Matt drove the car up to meet them.
“Get in,” he said. “We’re late.”
Pete
Pete’s legs pumped beneath him. His breath came in ragged gasps as he ran and pushed his body to its limits and beyond. Wild-eyed with terror, the M-16 he carried brought him no comfort. The weapon was next to useless given what was after him. It simply didn’t have the firepower to do the job. A roar sounded from somewhere in the trees behind him. By all rights, he should be dead, and he knew it. Why he was alive was a mystery. He wondered if the beast was playing some kind of game like a cat with a mouse before finally swooping in for the kill.
His radio was gone. He’d lost it and his helmet to an unfriendly tree limb about two klicks back. Pete hadn’t dared to stop to get it. The radio, even if it survived the impact, was useless. It was short-range and there was no one left in his unit to call. No help would be coming until he found a phone or some other means to reach command. Cursing himself for not owning a cell phone like everyone else, even in combat these days, he used the back of his hand to wipe the sweat from his brow without slowing. The stitch in his side felt like it was about to burst open and leak his guts onto the grass of the forest floor. He couldn’t keep up this pace much longer, but stopping was a bad idea. It was like asking Death to pay him an untimely visit.
