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  “Anybody been to this town, Canton, before?” Motter asked.

  “Evans has!” Gabriel shouted, pointing in his direction. “The punk grew up there!”

  Private Evans wished there was somewhere he could hide as everyone’s eyes turned to him but in the enclosed rear of the truck, there was nowhere to escape to.

  “That right, Evans?” Hyatt asked.

  Evans nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Well, what’s it like, man?” Motter demanded.

  “It’s just another small North Carolina town, Motter,” Evans answered. “There’s nothing special about the place.”

  “Nothing special.” Motter frowned. “You sure about that, Evans?”

  “He doesn’t know anything, Motter. Leave him alone,” Lancaster ordered.

  Evans blushed at her coming to his defense as she had.

  “We will all be finding out soon enough anyway,” Hyatt snorted.

  “Hey!” Gabriel called out. “Did you guys hear that?”

  A hush fell over the soldiers in the truck’s rear. From somewhere in the dark shadows of the woods surrounding the road came a shrieking cry. Another followed in its wake from somewhere farther away.

  “What in the devil is that?” Motter asked no one in particular.

  Gabriel shook his head. “I’ve never heard anything like that before.”

  “The truck’s slowing down,” Evans said.

  “What the frag?” Hyatt growled, knowing they couldn’t have reached the town where they were supposed to be deploying yet.

  Their truck was in the middle of the small convoy headed for Canton, one other truck ahead of it, another behind. Sergeant Dickerson poked his head into the canopied area they were riding in.

  “We got trees in the road, folks,” Sergeant Dickerson told them. “The boys in the first truck are trying to clear the way for us but it’s going to take a minute. Sit tight…and be ready for anything.”

  Evans didn’t care for the last bit that Sergeant Dickerson had tacked onto what he had said.

  “Well, that’s comforting,” Motter griped.

  “Shut up, man,” Hyatt barked at Motter. “You heard the sarge. It’s just some downed trees.”

  “Sure, but from what?” Motter argued. “Ain’t no storm around here. Ain’t even any wind or rain.”

  The shrieking cries rang out in the woods again. This time, they seemed closer as if whatever was making them was moving in intentionally toward the small convoy of trucks. Evans looked around and saw his own nervousness reflected in the expressions the others except for Hyatt. The big man, having seen all the action that he had, was hard to spook.

  The minutes ticked by painfully for Evans as he and the rest waited for the road to be cleared. Right as he was beginning to wonder if the small convoy would ever be on the move again, all hell broke loose.

  ****

  Cato had waited at the supermarket as long as he could for Sheriff Wallace. The ambulance had already come and taken the bodies of the dead away. As the sun began to set, he had finally just done what he could to lock the place down, got in his patrol car, and started back to the station. He hadn’t been able to move the dead Sasquatch. The thing had to weigh close to half a ton. Cato had covered it up with a tarp from inside the store and left the Sasquatch where it lay.

  For some reason he couldn’t explain, no one was answering on the radio, not even Lindsey at the station. The radio didn’t seem like it had any issues that he could tell. Electronics and such weren’t his thing so Cato didn’t really know for sure. The unit could have glitched out somehow but his gut told him that it hadn’t. As he drove along the road back into town, he noticed that the power had gone out everywhere. The streetlights were dark and there were no lights on in the handful of scattered homes and farms he passed on his way. Maybe the outage had something to do with whatever was going on with the radio. His cell wasn’t working either. It had no signal. The whole mess was beginning to creep him out. He took the shortest route possible to the station, bypassing the main streets of Canton. There were no other cars on the road and he was starting to wonder if he had stepped out of reality into the Twilight Zone or something where he was the only human being left alive.

  As Cato took the turn off the dirt road that came up from behind the station to its main lot, he was surprised to see that the only car in the lot was Lindsey’s. Her beat-up old Ford sat alone outside the station. All the patrol cars were gone. That meant everyone, even the sheriff herself, had to be out responding to calls. Cato had figured something was up when she never showed at the supermarket. He had been looking forward to her seeing the body of the Sasquatch he had killed. There was no way she could have explained it away like she had all the other evidence. Parking his car, he noticed that the station was as dark as everywhere else. That made no sense, as the station had its own generator that should have kicked in when the power went out. He sat in his car, gawking at the station’s front door. The door had been torn away and lay in several pieces, splintered over the steps that led up to the entrance. Cato counted to 10, taking deep breaths to get his nerves under control before getting out of his car. He carried his shotgun with him, double-checking that it was loaded as he approached the station’s entrance. It was hard to accept, even for someone as open-minded as he liked to think he was, that a Sasquatch could have attacked the station, but that was sure what looked to have happened. Nothing else made any sense.

  He stopped and walked back to his car. Cato took his flashlight off his belt and taped it to the side of his shotgun’s barrel. Only an idiot would dare go into the station without some light and he wanted his hands free in case his fears of what might be waiting on him inside were realized. Moving carefully across the parking lot, watching the trees surrounding it as he went, Cato crept back to the steps leading up to the station’s entrance and headed up them. Pausing as he reached their top, Cato shined the beam of his flashlight into the station. Nothing came roaring out of the darkness at him. That was a really good sign. He had no desire to go up against a Sasquatch again on his own.

  Cato entered the station and began to look around it. There were bullet holes in the walls. A lot of them. He found what was left of Lindsey on his way to the dispatch desk. Her broken and twisted body lay in a puddle of blood on the floor. An AR-15 was still clutched tightly in one of her cold, dead hands. The weapon clearly hadn’t done her much good and explained the state of the walls near the entrance. She must have tried to fight off the Sasquatch that had torn through the door instead of trying to run and hide. Sometimes being a brave person got you killed. Continuing to look around the station, Cato didn’t find anyone else, dead or alive. There were drops of blood that ran along the station’s floor in several places and they told him that Lindsey had at least gotten in a few good shots at her killer.

  Returning to the dispatch desk, Cato tried the radio there but it had no power. He walked into Sheriff Wallace’s office and got the spare key to the station’s weapons locker. Cato saw that someone had already taken one of the station’s AR-15s that were kept there. He helped himself to one, slinging the rifle onto his shoulder by its strap and stuffed the pockets of his jacket full of extra magazines for the weapon. Cato didn’t want to leave the station but he knew he had to. Though the station appeared safe now, there was no guarantee that it would stay that way. The Sasquatch that killed Lindsey could still be somewhere close by or another one of the beasts could come wandering in at any moment. He was alone and didn’t even know how many Sasquatch might be out there in the streets of Canton running amok right now. What he did know was that he had taken an oath to protect the town and everyone in it. There were people out there who were counting on him and Cato didn’t plan to let them down any more than he already had. Cato covered Lindsey’s body on his way out and then left the station.

  ****

  No one had expected the attack. The five creatures had crept up on the small convoy unnoticed, despite the distant cries of their brethren
. Three of them hit the front of the convoy and two the rear. The guardsmen at work clearing the road died quickly where they had been struggling to clear the road when the Sasquatch charged into their ranks. One Sasquatch removed most of a guardsman’s face with a single swipe of its claws. Another grabbed two of the guardsman and smashed them together with such force that the bones inside of their bodies shattered on impact. The last of the guardsman at the debris blocking the road tried to run, making it no more than a few steps before a Sasquatch snatched him up from behind and crushed him against its chest in a bear hug that snapped his spine.

  The guardsmen inside the rear truck never saw the Sasquatch coming until one of them leaped into it with them. The canopy covering the rear of the truck tore as the Sasquatch ravaged the soldiers, its claws lashing out at one then another. Blood flew everywhere as the Sasquatch unleashed its fury upon them.

  It was the sporadic gunfire from the few guardsmen with Sergeant Dickerson outside of the trucks that tipped Evans and the others with him off that something was happening. Motter was the first out of their truck. He leaped from it and turned about, squealing like a little girl at the sight of a Sasquatch that came bounding at him even as Sergeant Dickerson poured rounds into it with his M-16. Hyatt was out of the truck next, knocking Motter to the road in the process and clearing the path for the others behind him. The big veteran was equally taken aback by the sight of the Sasquatch but his training won out over his disbelief and fear. Hyatt carried an automatic shotgun instead of the standard-issue rifle that the others did. It thundered as he blew the chest of the fast-approaching monster into a mass of mangled meat and splashing blood. The monster’s charge was brought to a halt by the continuous heavy slugs that tore into it. It slumped to its knees just as the last round of Hyatt’s magazine pulped its head in an explosion of blood, brain matter, and bone fragments.

  Evans, Gabriel, Lancaster, and Dolan made it out of the truck in time to see it happen. Gabriel cackled like a madman running forward to meet one of the beasts that was headed down the road toward them, his M-16 blazing away at it. Lancaster knelt over to check on Motter as Evans took up a position to cover her. Dolan sprinted to join up with Sergeant Dickerson who was busy reloading his rifle. The screams coming from the rear truck had fallen silent and its driver had fled it. Evans recognized the fellow. His name was Moore. Motioning for him to run to them, Evans swept his M-16 around to provide cover if it was needed. Guardsmen were leaping out of the rear of the truck ahead of their own as something lifted its front end from the ground and turned the vehicle over on its side. The last of those getting out of it, a young woman close to Evans’ age, had her leg caught beneath the truck as it thudded over. She gave a scream that made Evans feel sick to his stomach. One leg trapped under the truck, she strained to pull it free despite the pain she had to be in.

  “Hold the line!” Sergeant Dickerson was yelling though Evans had no idea what line he meant. Everyone other than his little group was spread out around the trucks and fighting for their lives against giant beasts with yellow eyes that glowed in the darkness of the night. The beasts were impossibly fast for things their size and combined with the sheer shock of the simple fact of their existence, the tide of the battle was in their favor even with their lesser numbers.

  Evans watched as one of the things that could only be a Sasquatch took nearly half a magazine as it closed on its next victim. The poor man didn’t stand a chance against it as the beast lifted him from the ground and jerked his arms from the sides of his body.

  “We’ve got to do something!” Lancaster shouted.

  “Yeah! What?” Evans heard himself answer her.

  Hyatt had reloaded his shotgun and targeted one of the Sasquatch that had come at them from the front of the convoy, tearing through two guardsmen along the way. A slap of one of its over-sized hands took one man’s head, tearing it from his shoulders and sending it bouncing onto the road. The other guardsman it killed by punching a fist completely through her chest and out of her back before flinging her still-twitching corpse off its arm.

  “A little help here!” Hyatt yelled as he opened up at the monster.

  Lancaster moved to target the monster as Hyatt’s automatic shotgun cut its legs out from under it. The thing toppled onto the road even as Lancaster took her shot at it. A three-round burst from her M-16 hammered into and across its back. She put a second burst of fire into the monster as Hyatt, cursing like a sailor, ejected another spent magazine from his shotgun.

  Gabriel’s M-16 clicked empty as he reached the monster he had charged at. Unfortunately for him, it was still standing even with all the rounds he had put into its body. It surged forward, meeting him, and grabbed hold of the sides of his helmet. With a grunt, the monster brought the palms of its hands together like a vice as both Gabriel’s helmet and skull folded up between them. The monster let Gabriel’s body fall to lie at its feet, rearing its head back to give a roar that echoed along the road. Sergeant Dickerson and Dolan poured rounds into the monster, adding to the damage that Gabriel had already inflicted upon it. Their combined fire was enough to bring it down. Its body covered in bullet wounds, the monster gave a final whimper as it died. Then everything was over as fast as it had begun.

  All five of the monsters were dead on the road, surrounded by the bodies of the guardsmen they had slaughtered. Sergeant Dickerson started barking orders but Evans wasn’t listening to him. His eyes were glued to the closest of the dead monsters. As the reality of the thing’s existence sunk into his mind, he swooned and nearly fell over. Lancaster caught him, keeping him on his feet. He looked at her as if seeing her for the first time. Bloody Hades, she’s beautiful, he thought.

  “Snap out of it, Evans!” Lancaster spat into his face.

  “We got 18 dead, Sergeant,” Evans heard Dolan report. “Another five wounded.”

  “Frag me!” Sergeant Dickerson shook his head violently. “What the hell are those things and where did they even come from?”

  “They’re Sasquatch,” Evans said, getting himself together.

  Any other time, the sarge would have laughed in his face but with the bodies of the monsters lying dead on the road, it was hard to argue against them being real.

  Paul, one of the unit’s two medics, was running from one body to another, making sure Dolan’s body count was accurate. Heather, the other medic, was busy doing what she could for those that had been wounded.

  “Half of us gone, just like that.” Motter snapped his fingers. “What the hell, man?”

  “No wonder we got called in,” Hyatt’s voice rumbled as the big man walked up to them. “You have to wonder how many more of those things are out there, don’t you?”

  “The lead truck’s a total loss,” someone called from up the road. “The thing that turned it over messed up its engine real good.”

  “Everybody, get it together!” Sergeant Dickerson shouted. “Keep your eyes on the trees. There could be more of those things moving toward us.”

  As if to reinforce what the sergeant had said, several shrieks rang out from somewhere far away in the trees.

  The unit’s C.O. had been in the lead truck and was no longer with them. He had been gutted alive by one of the Sasquatch. That left Dickerson in command. Sergeant Dickerson managed to get the survivors of the attack organized. His plan was a simple one: load up and get the hell on into Canton in the hopes of finding somewhere there they could hole up and properly secure. It was a very sound plan compared to just waiting out in the open on the road for more of the Sasquatch to come at them.

  The lead and rear trucks were abandoned and left behind as everyone who could piled aboard the middle truck of the convoy. The rear truck’s axle had been broken by the weight of the monster that had jumped onto it. There wasn’t room for everyone in the remaining truck so the wounded were given priority and those who weren’t able to ride walked the road beside it, eyes on the trees and weapons at the ready.

  Two hours later, what was left o
f the unit reached Canton. The small town looked like a war zone. The roads were littered with wrecked and abandoned vehicles. Several of the stores along its main street were on fire, flames dancing, burning in the otherwise darkness. The power looked to be out everywhere. Not a single streetlight was on. Here and there were scattered bodies of the town’s residents who had been unable to escape the monsters that had killed them. Thankfully though, the rampaging beasts that had torn their way through the place earlier were nowhere to be seen. Evans wasn’t dumb enough to think that the things were gone and neither was Sergeant Dickerson.

  The first building that looked like it could be secured that they came across was a library and Dickerson ordered them all inside of it. The wounded were carried inside and barricades erected at both the building’s front and rear doors. There was an M249 aboard the truck and Sergeant Dickerson had it brought inside and set up at the library’s window that faced the main street outside. Once the library was as secure as it could be made, everyone except for Paul and Heather got a chance to catch their breath. Evans found himself a bookshelf to slump against and sat on the floor leaning onto it. He wiped at the sweat slicking his brow beneath the rim of his helmet with the backside of his hand.

  “Man, that was a freaking close one,” Motter said, taking a seat next to him in the floor. Lancaster and Dolan joined them.

  “Tell me about,” Evans agreed.

  “Guess we know why we’re here now,” Lancaster commented.

  “Yeah, I wish we didn’t,” Dolan said. “From the looks of things out there, this whole town got slaughtered by those things.”

  “Sasquatch,” Evans corrected him. “They’re Sasquatch.”

  “Whatever.” Dolan shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  “What we need to be focusing on is staying alive until help gets here,” Lancaster said.

  Motter nodded. “I heard the sarge radioing in while we were on the road. Those things have blocked up all the roads into the town pretty badly. Based on what I overheard, we can’t expect any help until morning.”