The Guard Read online

  THE GUARD

  Eric S Brown

  www.severedpress.com

  Copyright 2018 by Eric S Brown

  THE GUARD

  Mark Page wasn’t up early. He had been up all night. There was a sheen of frost that covered the grass as he hoofed it through the woods. His breath could be seen in the cold morning air. The sun hadn’t come up yet. It was just beginning to rise in the east. Neither he nor Clay had planned to spend the night in the woods but their efforts had paid off. A few minutes earlier, they bagged a black bear that Mark guessed had to weigh in at 600 pounds. It was their best kill of the season so far.

  Clay stood next to the bear’s corpse, admiring it while puffing on a cigarette.

  “Getting this thing back to the truck ain’t gonna be fun,” Clay griped.

  Mark laughed. “We’ll manage.”

  The dogs were going nuts in the aftermath of the kill as Nathan tried to round them up and get them under control.

  “What the heck is wrong with those dogs, boy?” Clay snapped at Nathan.

  “Don’t know.” Nathan shrugged, having gotten two of the dogs leashed and struggling to hang onto them. “Something has got them spooked. Can’t you see that?”

  Mark raised his rifle. He had been in these woods countless times since he was a boy but there was something…different about them this morning. He had felt it during the night too but kept it to himself, figuring it was just his nerves. Now he wasn’t so sure.

  “Forget the other dog. We’ll come back for it later,” Mark said. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  “Hold up now a minute, son…” Clay said. “We ain’t leaving that bear and I am getting the feeling that’s what you’re saying right now.”

  “Clay.” Mark looked over at the older man. “There’s something out here with us. And I don’t think that it’s something any of us want to run into.”

  “Something out here with us…” Clay frowned and took a long drag off his cigarette before continuing. “What the devil is the matter with you two? Ain’t nothing out here that we can’t handle, boys. We’re the apex predators ‘round these parts.”

  Nathan spoke up. “Mark’s right, Dad. There was something following us while we was after that bear and you know it. I could smell it out there.”

  “Great.” Clay glared at Mark. “You got my kid spooked now too. You two are crazy. And we ain’t leaving without that bear. Do I make myself clear?”

  Mark didn’t want to leave the bear either but he would be damned if he was going to risk his life for it. His gut told him that they needed to run. He couldn’t explain it.

  “You can drag it back if you want, Clay,” Mark said. “But Nathan and I are leaving. Ain’t that right, Nathan?”

  Caught between his father and Mark, Nathan sputtered an answer neither of them could understand.

  “What was that, boy?” Clay demanded, taking a step toward Nathan. “I couldn’t understand that gibberish you were yakking.”

  Something shrieked in the darkness not too far away from where the three of them were gathered.

  “What was that?” Nathan stammered, turning pale. The dogs broke his hold on them and ran away in the night, fleeing whatever had made that horrible sound they had heard.

  “That’s why we are leaving,” Mark yelled.

  “Ain’t never heard anything like that before,” Clay commented. “But it don’t mean we need to turn tail and run. That’s a rifle in your hands, ain’t it, Mark?”

  Mark eyed the old man as Clay readied his own rifle.

  “You got the stones to stand your ground, don’t ya?” Clay snorted.

  Before Mark could respond, the beast came charging out of the trees. It stood nearly nine feet tall. Its body was covered in thick brown hair. The beast’s arms and legs were thick with dense muscles and the claws at the end of its fingers gleamed in the light of the rising sun. How the thing had managed to stay hidden so close to them, Mark didn’t have a clue. He could only stare at the beast in shock as it went after Clay. The old man tried to bring the barrel of his rifle up at it but was too slow. Claws of the beast’s right hand tore away most of the left side of his face and dislocated his jaw in the process. Blood splattered onto the grass as Clay tried to scream. The beast rammed its other hand into the old man’s chest. Its fist punched through his ribs and into him to emerge from his back. Blood poured from Clay’s open mouth before the beast ripped itself free from him.

  “Dad!” Nathan shouted, his fumbling fingers trying to free the pistol on his hip from its holster.

  Mark looked directly into the beast’s glowing, yellow eyes as he brought up his rifle and braced it against his shoulder, taking aim at it. The beast roared, springing toward him as Mark pulled the rifle’s trigger. It bucked in his hands as its barrel flashed in the fading darkness. The shot he fired struck the beast dead center in its chest. Mark saw blood go flying from the wound as the beast whirled about, changing its course to go after Nathan instead.

  Nathan managed to get his pistol out and ready. He fired three times into the beast as it came at him. The beast grunted in pain as each of Nathan’s bullets hammered its body. They didn’t stop it though. Mark could see that they hadn’t gotten any real penetration through the beast’s layers of thick muscles. The beast plowed into Nathan, knocking his pistol from his grasp and him from his feet. Nathan landed hard on his back in front of the monster. Before he could even try to start getting to his feet, the beast slammed a massive foot down onto him. Mark heard the sickening crunching noise of Nathan’s ribs giving way and folding inward beneath it. Nathan’s body twitched a few times and then lay still.

  Mark’s rifle boomed a second time but the beast was impossibly fast for something its size and was already on the move again. His shot streaked through the air where it had been standing a fraction of a second before. It was on him before he could get off a third shot. Hair-covered fingers closed about his throat, lifting him effortlessly from the ground, as the beast’s other hand batted away the rifle. The weapon flew, spinning through the air to land in the grass several yards away. Mark’s hands reached up to grab the arm of the hand that was closed about his throat, fighting desperately to break its hold on him. His legs kicked wildly beneath him a good foot above the grass below where the thing held him. Mark couldn’t scream. He could barely breathe as the beast’s fingers grew even tighter around his throat. Holding him steady, the beast sunk the claws of its other hands into the top of his chest just below his neck and jerked them downward through his flesh, opening him up all the way to his groin. Mark saw his own blood spraying over the beast’s hair-covered body in his last moment before the world swam before his eyes and then there was only darkness.

  ****

  Sheriff Wallace covered her nose as the smell of the rotting bodies hit her. Despite the chill of the day, the bodies stunk badly. From the looks of them, they had been out here rotting for some time before Alex Johnson had found them. He had come to the woods hunting with his brother, Gerald, and happened upon them a few hours back according to the report her deputies had given her.

  The three men had been identified as Mark Page, Clay Rigger, and his son, Nathan. Parts of Clay and his son were strewn about the small clearing in the woods, some even looking to have been gnawed on. Mark Page’s body was opened up, his entrails spilling out onto the grass around where the body lay.

  “Told ya you didn’t want to see them, Sheriff,” she heard Deputy Holcomb’s voice comment from behind where she stood.

  “They’re torn up pretty bad,” Deputy Sharps said. “We’re thinking it was a bear that did this.”

  “That would make sense,” Holcomb agreed. “That’s what they were supposed to be out here hunting.”

  Sheriff Wallace shook her h
ead. “This wasn’t done by a bear.”

  “How can you know that?” Holcomb asked.

  “That’s the bear they were after over there.” Sheriff Wallace gestured at the dead bear that lay just beyond the clearing’s edge. “They killed it before whatever happened here went down.”

  “Could have been another bear,” Holcomb argued weakly.

  Sheriff Wallace glared at Holcomb. “That bear is a male. They usually live alone unless you’re talking about a female and her cubs. Besides, these guys were pretty much pros and they were all armed.”

  Deputy Fisher wandered over to the three of them, looking sick. Sheriff Wallace didn’t blame him. She had seen a lot in her years as Haywood County’s sheriff and this mess in the clearing was just about enough to make her sick too.

  “Shouldn’t we be notifying their families?” Deputy Fisher asked.

  Sheriff Wallace shook her head. “Not yet. We need to get the pieces of them gathered up and out of here. Their families sure don’t need to see them like this.”

  Deputy Holcomb’s cell phone rang. He stepped away to answer it as Sheriff Wallace continued to stare at the carnage in the small clearing.

  “You heard her, Fisher,” Deputy Sharps snapped. “There are body bags in the patrol cars. Get started on getting these poor bastards gathered up so we can get them back to town.”

  Fisher turned even paler than he already was but didn’t argue. He started back down the mountain out of the woods to fetch what the bags.

  “Sharps, help him,” Sheriff Wallace ordered.

  Deputy Sharps’ head whipped around at her in surprise, disgust and anger flashing in his eyes, but he was smart enough not to say whatever he was feeling. He just nodded and said, “Yes ma’am.”

  Flipping his old school cell phone closed, Deputy Holcomb approached her. Sheriff Wallace knew whatever news he had just gotten wasn’t good from his expression.

  “What is it?” Sheriff Wallace asked Holcomb.

  Holcomb swallowed hard. “You’re not going to believe this, ma’am, but there’s been another attack like this one out at the Clark farm.”

  Sheriff Wallace gawked at him in disbelief. “You’re serious?”

  “Afraid so.” Holcomb nodded. “Something came out of the woods over there and went after Mr. Clark’s cattle. According to his wife, Sharon, he grabbed a shotgun and headed out to deal with it. She heard him shooting at something but he never came back. She called the station and Lindsey sent Cato over there as he was just coming on duty and we were all up here. He found Mr. Clark torn apart like this and bunch of dead cows too.”

  “Frag me,” Sheriff Wallace muttered. “What in the devil is going on around here?”

  Holcomb didn’t answer her. He just shrugged with a frown on his face.

  “Let Cato know I am on my way,” Sheriff Wallace ordered. “And get this mess here cleaned up. These poor bastards at least deserve to be buried properly.”

  Holcomb watched Sheriff Wallace take off out of the clearing heading down the mountain to where they had been forced to leave their cars. When she had vanished from sight, he looked around at the trees. Sharps and Fisher weren’t back yet. An involuntary shudder shook Holcomb as he realized that he was alone and there was no guarantee that whatever had killed Mark and the Riggers wasn’t still hanging around somewhere close by in the trees. He drew his pistol, his knuckles going white from how tightly he held the weapon.

  ****

  Deputy Cato was walking down the drive in front of the Clark farm when Sheriff Wallace pulled up. There was an ambulance parked in the drive beside his patrol car. She killed her car’s engine and got out of it.

  “Everything’s pretty much handled here, ma’am,” Cato told her. “Larry and Southard are up at the house dealing with Mrs. Clark and we’ve already brought down Jerry’s body. What’s left of it is in the back of their rig.”

  “What’s left of it?” Sheriff Wallace asked.

  Cato nodded. “Whatever got him didn’t just kill him, ma’am. It ate most of him too. There wasn’t much to bag up and we never did find his head.”

  Sheriff Wallace watched Cato carefully as she asked, “Did you find any signs of what did it?”

  “Actually, I did but…” he answered.

  “But what?” Sheriff Wallace urged the young deputy.

  “You’re not going to believe me,” Cato told her.

  “What the frag do you mean by that?” Sheriff Wallace growled. “If you found something, tell me about it.”

  “There were tracks in the field, ma’am,” Cato said. “Big ones. Way too big to belong to a man and they sure as heck weren’t bear tracks either.”

  Sheriff Wallace stared at Cato, waiting on him to continue.

  “Ma’am…” the young deputy went on reluctantly. “I think we’re looking at a Sasquatch attack.”

  Not knowing whether to laugh, cry, or fly into an outright rage at Cato, she forced herself to take a second before responding to the insanity of what had just come out of his mouth.

  “Now wait…” Cato said, seeing her expression. “You know that murder back at the start of June? The one we never solved? That family of campers who were killed over at Bear Creek?”

  “I remember,” Sheriff Wallace answered carefully. “I also recalled you said the same thing about it and we had a good long talk about what’s real and what isn’t.”

  “That’s the one, ma’am.” Cato forced a polite smile. “Mr. Clark was mostly eaten just like those people were. A bunch of cows were too.”

  “Where are you going with this?” Sheriff Wallace demanded.

  “If you recall, their camper was literally pushed over by something,” Cato said.

  “And it got the last girl by pulling her out of a window based on the scene,” Sheriff Wallace added. “So? What does that have to do with this?”

  “The cows, ma’am,” Cato told her. “Whatever killed them and Mr. Clark was big enough and strong enough to not only tear them apart but drag them around by itself.”

  “Itself?” Sheriff Wallace shook her head. “Come on, Cato. A bear could drag a cow about if it wanted to. The connection you are trying to make—”

  “Respectfully, ma’am, please let me finish,” Cato pleaded and took out his phone. He held it up for her to see an image on its screen. “I took that shot as Larry and Southard were getting Mr. Clark’s remains bagged up.”

  On the screen of his phone was a picture of a dead cow only it wasn’t lying on the ground. Something had picked it up and rammed it onto the limb of a large tree. The limb impaled the dead animal’s body like a stake through the heart of a vampire, holding it several feet above the grass of the field. The cow’s body had been pushed along the limb all the way to where it touched the tree’s trunk, otherwise, the limb would have broken from its weight.

  “No bear can do that,” Cato told her. “It’s still hanging there if you want to see it in person. I didn’t have the tools to cut it down and the paramedics didn’t want anything to do with it.”

  Sheriff Wallace didn’t know what to say as Cato tucked his phone away.

  “I think whatever killed those campers at the start of June and the thing that got Mr. Clark this morning are one and the same,” Cato said. “Maybe even the same thing that wiped out those hunters too.”

  “Can’t be.” Sheriff Wallace frowned. “These hunters were over on Burke Mountain, Cato. I don’t care what it is, nothing could get over there and back fast enough to have been behind both of the killings we’re dealing with today.”

  “Then maybe there’s more than one of them.” Cato shrugged.

  “Or maybe none of what we’re talking about is related at all,” Sheriff Wallace pointed out.

  “Sheriff—” Cato started but she cut him off.

  “Stop it, Cato,” Sheriff Wallace ordered him. “I may not be able to explain what happened to that poor cow but that doesn’t mean we’ve got a Sasquatch running around Haywood County killing folks whenever i
t feels like it. There has got to be a rational explanation for all this. Besides, aren’t Sasquatch supposed to be big, peaceful giants that just want to be left alone?”

  “A lot of folks in the cryptozoological world claim that but it’s just theory. Maybe even just wishful thinking,” Cato said. “There have been numerous documented cases of people who said they were attacked by Sasquatch. Could be they are the ones that are telling the truth.”

  “Look,” Sheriff Wallace said, “what I do know for a fact is that we have four people dead this morning and on my watch. If I hear one more word out of you about Sasquatch, I’m putting you on leave without pay until you can get your head out of your butt and start helping the rest of us come up with the answer to what’s really happened to them. Am I clear?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Cato answered weakly.

  “And get back out into that field as soon as possible. I want that cow cut down before anyone else sees it. Something like that could start a panic we don’t need,” Sheriff Wallace snarled and then turned her back on Cato, leaving him where he stood as she got into her patrol car, firing up its engine. Kicking it into gear, she backed out the drive in front of the Clark’s farm and headed for the main road into town.

  ****

  Deputy Sharps had left Fisher to finish up what little was left that needed to be done at the crime scene on the mountain where Mark Page and the Riggers had been killed. He had faith that the rookie could handle it since an ambulance crew had finally arrived to help with the extraction of the bodies. It had been a rough morning and he was almost looking forward to the paperwork that was waiting for him back at the station. Sharps had quit smoking two years ago but right now he really wanted a cigarette. Haywood County was overall a quiet, little place in the rural part of the North Carolina mountains and in general, the worst parts of his job were just dealing with meth heads, domestic disputes, and the occasional fight. The killing of those campers in June had been the first non-accident-related deaths he had dealt with in a good while until this morning. It had shaken him up pretty badly. Now, only a few months later, he was dealing with the same crap again and he hated it. The sheriff and Cato usually dealt with this type of stuff, leaving him out of it, but with two killings in one morning, everyone on staff had no choice but to be involved. He was halfway to the station when Lindsey’s voice rang out over his patrol car’s radio.