GRANT’S CROSSING^[a]

        by Matthew J. Baffoe

PART ONE: DARK NIGHT

CHAPTER ONE^[b][c]

^[d]

Sam and Tim had set out before the sun rose in the impenetrable darkness of a northern Wisconsin morning. Before long, the tall, golden grass of Johnson’s field swallowed them to their waists.

Tim parked his old, rusted, white Ford pickup by the side of the road, just off Highway 77. About three miles southwest of Black Bear Lake and five miles from Spider Lake and the resort known as Grant’s Crossing. The moist October air slipped through their open collars and nestled under their heavy jackets.

“Hey, Buddy,” Tim said as they walked along. “Getting any these days?”

Sam laughed. He surveyed the woods as they walked through the prairie. “Just from your mom.”

 “I hear Maybelline’s available.”

“If she wasn’t seventy, maybe I’d do her.” They both laughed.

“Listen, hoss,” Tim said. ^[e]“We’ve been friends…How long has it been we’ve been friends?”

Sam grinned. “About thirty years.”

“So almost your whole life.” Tim said. Sam grinned and nodded in anticipation of his friend’s next pearl of wisdom. “If you want to dust off an antique, don’t let me stop you.”

Sam punched Tim in the bicep, and Tim feigned injury.

The^[f] woods drew closer as Tim adjusted his Savage rifle over his shoulder. Right on cue, Sam adjusted his Kimber over his shoulder and the two men walked on.

Earlier that morning, they ate breakfast at Maybelline’s restaurant, the only place within ^[g]forty miles open at 3:00 a.m.^[h] to feed the hunters. ^[i]Eventually the darkness dissolved into a steel-gray, sunless morning as Sam and Tim climbed into their deer stand.

At the edge of the forest, where the tall grass met the tree line, the two men looked out at the ocean of reeds and watched the wind nudge the tips of the tall, slender grass. By noon, the gentle breeze grew into a zephyr that whipped through the field and made the grass chatter and whisper.

“No deer yet,” Sam said. “Maybe we should find another spot.”

Tim set his rifle down.  “This is our spot. We’ve been coming here since we were kids.”

Sam raised his hands in defense. “All I’m saying is we might want to move.”

Tim drew down his eyebrows and that was the end of the conversation.

By 3:00 p.m. ^[j]the tree that held their deer stand seemed to warn them to escape with every creak and shake of its boney branches.^[k] As soon as they hit the ground, Tim spotted the buck.

The large, dark frame of the animal stood in stark contrast with the golden waves of grass, and its massive rib cage expanded and contracted with every breath. Its head rose up. It sniffed at the wind trying to catch the scent of the hunters.

Tim drew the Savage to his shoulder and captured the deer in his scope. Sam ^[l]didn’t draw his weapon, but he held it at the ready.

“You got a heart shot,” Sam said, his voice low and steady.

With precision, Tim glided the crosshairs down to a spot just below the buck’s shoulder blades, aiming for the heart.

“Easy now,” Sam said. “Make it count.”

Tim released his breath and his body slackened. His right hand squeezed the trigger. Tim rocked back as the booming crack of the gunshot shattered the air. A flock of gulls screeched and exploded into flight from a nearby tree.

The subsonic bullet whistled as it tore through the air just above the grass line. Its arc tightened as it traveled the distance to the deer in a fraction of a second, penetrating the animal just above the breastplate, but missing the heart and lungs. Rearing up on its hind legs, the deer sprang for the forest.

“Damn it.” Sam said. “Reload.”

Tim re-bolted the rifle sliding the scope across the grass line until he saw the deer. The large body stumbled through the grass, limping from the wound. He followed with the scope and then led the deer by almost a foot. ^[m]

“Don’t lose him,” Sam said, but Tim concentrated on the task at hand. His twenty-five years of hunting these woods had brought a calmness and ease to him.

Thunderheads collected above them dimming the light. Wind-brushed reeds slapped at his face, and the thought of tracking the animal through the forest in the rain and darkness didn’t appeal to Tim.

“Don’t let it get to the woods.” Sam said, echoing Tim’s thoughts. Sam raised his rifle just in case. At that moment, Sam thought he heard a feint whisper in the woods, something like he had never heard before, but he shrugged off the thought. If Tim had heard it, he didn’t show any sign.

The buck trotted twenty feet from the forest edge and Tim stiffened. He didn’t have the angle ^[n]he wanted, but he would have to shoot soon. At ten feet, it leaped up, a massive brown blur against the dark sky. Tim fired. The bullet crashed into the back flank, ripping tendon from bone and toppling the animal. Overhead, a short peel of thunder rang out, and the storm coagulated. A gust of wind kicked a small mantle of dust and flies into the air,

“Did you get it?” Sam asked.

Tim’s head spun around^[o], and he cocked an eye at Sam^[p]. The expression said it all. Do you have any doubt that I got it?

Sam ^[q]smiled. “Good man.”

The two waded through the prairie and, even from that distance, the sound of the deer’s struggles pierced the air. From fifty yards away they heard the animal grunt as it struggled to right itself, and then the deer fell to the ground with a loud snort.

“We should wait?” Sam suggested.

Again, from the forest, Sam thought he heard a whisper, just above a hiss, and it sounded like someone saying, “weshoulwai.”

Sam cocked an ear ^[r]toward the forest, and Tim inspected him. Sam shook his head ^[s]and waved it off, “Nothing, just thought I heard something.”

Tim nodded ^[t]his head toward the fallen buck. “I know the first shot got him in the neck. He’ll bleed to death from that. The second shot took out his back leg, so he ain’t going anywhere. I wouldn’t mind getting a little closer, though.”

Sam^[u] agreed.

The forest^[v] in front of the deer exploded with activity and streaks of brown fur dashing from the forest walls. Growls and grunts filled the air, followed by the high-pitched ^[w]mewling of the deer.  

“Damn it. It’s probably a pack of coyotes,” Tim said. “Get away from my buck.”

“It could be a wolf.” Sam said.

“No.” Tim shook his head. “It’s too dark to be a wolf.”

The men sprinted toward their kill. The deer howled its agony. Furious claws flew and scratched. A crimson geyser of blood rocketed up in the air, and the deer fell silent. From fifty feet away, the predator looked up from its prey at the ensuing invaders. Tim stopped so fast that Sam^[x] almost knocked him over.  

“What the hell?” Tim put his arm out to catch Sam as the animal ^[y]raised its head from the deer carcass. Blood dribbled from its fangs. It’s ^[z]lips curled into a snarl, baring a mouthful of glistening, blood-soaked teeth.

“Jesus.” Sam said. He took a step back. “What is that?”

From the forest they heard a soft growl and an inhuman voice whisper…something. Sam stared into the woods ^[aa]dumfounded. The soft purring came from deep in the scrub and undergrowth. He squinted, but darkening skies turned the brush into a shadowy void. To Tim, it sounded almost like human speech, but not quite. The words meshed together, almost as if exhaled as a long, drunken slur.

“Whaistha.” The monstrous phrase, repeated several times, and then dissolved.

Sam and Tim squinted\ at each other. ^[ab] Sam realized both he and Tim had heard the strange hissing voice from the woods.

They stared in disbelief as the creature stood on its hind legs. Yellow-orange eyes stared at them as blood and saliva drooled down from four sets of giant canines. It spread its fore limbs outward, revealing raptor-like claws.

It ^[ac]lowered its head, spread its jaws wide, and its howl shattered the heavy silence. Descending to all fours, it paced in front of the deer, guarding its prey.

“That ain’t no wolf,” Sam said.  

From ^[ad]the forest came a soft purring^[ae]. “Hano^[af] w-w-wol.”

“What is that?” Sam^[ag] jerked his head toward the forest.

Tim didn’t answer. Although he heard the same thing, he denied his mind’s insistence that a voice spoke to them from the woods. Trouble, the shadow voice in his head whispered.

He fired his weapon into the air hoping to scare the creature off.  The beast growled again as its lips peeled back in a menacing grimace. It craned its head in the air and let out a long string of barks.

It’s summoning the others, Tim’s shadow voice said. The thought chilled him, and he wanted to cover his ears from the sound. ^[ah]

“There’s other deer,” Sam said.

“Bullshit.” Tim’s upper lip curled into a snarl as his cheeks flared a deep red. A hundred pounds of venison would last him the winter. He bolted the rifle again and raised it to his shoulder. The creature hunched close to the ground like a dog ready to pounce. A snarl, like the sound of an idling chainsaw^[ai], flowed from deep within.

Three things happened at once: Tim fired, and the creature leapt sideways, darting into the woods^[aj]. A bolt of lightning split the sky, and the forest was outlined in a powdery blue aura^[ak]. The first ^[al]drops of cold rain began to fall^[am], and both men cringed against the onslaught of the storm.  The shadow voice in Tim Stanton’s head whispered to him, Get out, Timmy. Get out now.

At the Lodge at Black Bear Lake, the lightning and rain came down hard. The heavy drops beat down on the roof. Warm fire ^[an]light seeped out of the windows.  Inside, three people sat stooped over steaming cups of tea.

The two men took theirs with a healthy shot of brandy. The quiet stranger took hers plain and sat off to the side. Resting in wet tangles, her brown hair clung to her neck and cheeks. She surveyed the room with soft, almond colored eyes. A quiet dread filled her stomach as she sat waiting for the sheriff.

“It’s really coming down,” the young deputy said.

The others nodded.

“Do the two of you live nearby?” the stranger asked, sipping her tea.

She grew up in a small town just like Black Bear Lake, and she knew in her heart of hearts that the men of this little town weren’t going to welcome a stranger’s opinion. Especially that of a woman.

“Not far,” the young deputy said. “Just across the lake, closer to town.”

The larger man said nothing. The familiar smell of stale smoke and years of beer, combined with the subtle aroma of cedar clung to the thick paneling. A fire raged in a stone fireplace, ^[ao]its warmth welcoming.

“Will you guys do any hunting this season?” she asked.

“You know it,” the young deputy said. The bigger man shrugged and tapped his finger on the bar.

On the wall, left of the fireplace, mounted fish and wild game stared from their mounts, their lifeless eyes seemed aglow in the orange glare. Pictures of fishermen with stringers sagging under the weight of their catches peaked from every corner. All the silent tables stood like the skeletal, empty remains of the summer. By February, the snowmobilers would arrive and fill the lodge with clanking beer mugs and loud conversation.

“Gary, this hits the spot.” The deputy raised his mug toward the bartender.

“There’s more where that came from, Ted.” Gary nodded at the other man and said, “You too, Charley. Sorry ma’am, I’ve forgotten your name, but there’s some for you too.”

“Thank you,” she said, smiling at Gary. “My name is Annette Pennington.”

He motioned to the man sitting to the left of Annette. “The little guy here is Charley Alerbee.”

Annette laughed. Charley Alerbee stood well over six feet tall and weighed in at 275 pounds.  Chord-like muscles in his shoulders bulged through his uniform, and his face, chiseled and rugged, had a polished stone quality to it.

“Pleased to meet you,” he muttered out of the side of his mouth.

“Likewise,” Annette said. Again her stomach tightened. ^[ap]He refused to make eye contact with her. His badge read DNR and Annette assumed he was a local game warden.

“This here is Ted Johnson.” Gary motioned to the deputy.

Ted turned toward her, revealing a slender, but fit, torso. His shaved head reflected some of the bar-light, and his genuine smile made her feel slightly more welcome. The deputy’s snug uniform accented his well-formed biceps. He winked at Charley, who pursed his lips.

“I sure am happy you’re here, Miss Pennington. I hope you can help us with our problem.”

The broad smile on Ted’s face betrayed him. Charley Alerbee sighed ^[aq]with disgust. Oh boy, Annette thought, here we go.

“I’ll tell you right now, Miss Pennington,” Charley said, turning toward her for the first time, “you’re wasting your time up here.”

“My name’s Annette,” she answered with quiet reservation. “Why do you say that?”

“Because we ain’t looking for a wolf,” he said frowning at Ted.

Charley didn’t blink when he talked to her. Something about his confidence made her want to believe him.

What was he saying? Not a wolf?  Then why am I here?  It will be a long ride home if I can’t help.  Charley spun off the bar stool and started toward the men’s room.

“How do you know?” she asked.^[ar]

“You’ll see,” he said without looking back.  Then he pointed toward Ted, “and you will owe me twenty bucks.”

Charley ducked into the men’s room pulling the door closed behind him. Annette noticed a sign above the bathroom door that read Beware the Woods at Night^[as].

A slight shiver ran through her. Extending his middle finger at the closed door, Ted spun on his heels toward her shrugging his shoulders.

“Don’t mind him,” Ted whispered, grinning from ear to ear^[at]. “He’s just upset because we called in a wolf expert from a Chicago zoo, and because you’re a woman.”

“Hey, thanks for noticing,” Annette said. Ted’s face reddened.

“I noticed, too.” Gary said.

The^[au] three of them laughed.

CHAPTER 2

The swift silence of the attack chilled Timothy Stanton to the bone.

They stood over the deer looking at the carnage.  

“Look at the belly.” Tim said. “It’s been torn open and eviscerated.”

Glistening pink bones winked at them from its ribcage.

“Man, nothing can eat that fast.” Sam said as he looked at the dark cavern that was once the deer’s midsection.

“That thing inhaled chunks of flesh.” Tim said.

Scraps of bone and flesh lay scattered around the carcass. Tim knelt beside the deer, not realizing or not caring that he knelt in a puddle of blood. He investigated the gaping hole and noted that the heart and part of its lungs were still intact.

Sam’s confusion turned to anger as the storm cloaked the two men in a shroud of rain.

“Damn it,” Sam said. “I told you we should’ve left.”

“Is poor wittle Sammy afraid of the wain?” Tim said as he looked up at the sky with his mouth open to catch some drops.

Sam gave him the one finger salute.

Tim’s eyes widen ^[av]as the creature lunged through the air, sprawling Tim out and digging its claws into the fleshy part of his shoulder. He could smell the rot on the beast’s breath. Whirling around, it cast all of its attention toward Sam.^[aw] It sprang for his neck, gashing him from shoulder to sternum and connecting with the tip of his rifle as he squeezed the round off. The force of the impact slammed Sam ^[ax]to the ground and sent the creature tumbling. It collided with the dirt and shrieked in agony, but regained its feet.

“Jesus.” He said. “It’s gutted me. Holy shit, Tim, I’m gutted.”

Tim squinted hard to clear his mind. His heartbeat quickened to a steady stream of thuds.

“You’re okay,” Tim said. “We’ll be ok. What the…”

The animal staggered toward the woods like a fighter shaking off a punch.  It swiveled around to cast a vicious glare at Sam. Heavy drops of cold rain pelted them, filling the air with tiny pops as the water covered the ground.

Sam twitched. “What is this thing?” Neither he nor Tim moved.

Saliva drooled from the animal’s glistening fangs, and a deep, angry growl sifted out. Its torn and bloody chest showed ^[ay]no visible hole.

“It should be dead,” Sam said. “I shot that thing point blank.”

It flexed its jaws and its teeth snapped together.  Falling into a crouch, the snarling beast crept toward them. Tim raised his gun with his other arm, and the creature ran off into the tall grass. When it reached thirty feet away, it hunkered down under the veil of reeds and circled them.

The animal howled back toward the woods and a series of howls reverberated in response. Tim looked over at Sam^[az], whose shredded shoulder streamed blood. From the woods came a long, garbled moan that sounded almost human.

“Jesus, someone’s out there,” Sam said, the panic setting in. “Someone else is out there.”^[ba]

His face drained to the color of putty. His lips turned cold and hard. He ^[bb]shouted toward the woods. “Hang on! We’re coming!”

“No, Sam,” Tim said through clenched teeth. “There’s no one there.”

Again, the woods erupted with what sounded like a man, or a group of men, screaming.

“Who’s out there?” Sam hollered.

“Whoouthe,” a choir of voices responded.

This time, Tim questioned his own sanity. He watched in horror as Sam lurched toward the woods. Tim grabbed his sleeve, but the other man wrenched free and trotted toward the tree line^[bc].

“Sam, no.” Tim was too late. Sam broke into a trot.

“Shit,” Tim said and ran after him. “Sam, stop. Nobody is there.”

The sound of human screams amplified as they approached the woods. Sam bellowed out, “We’re coming!”

Tim realized that every time Sam screamed, he relayed his position to the rest of the pack. He charged forward in a desperate attempt to close the gap, but Sam moved fast for a big man. Sam ^[bd]reached the tree line and dissolved into the woods.

Tree branches tore at their^[be] faces and whipped their midsections. Pouring down in rivers, the cold rain beat on them. It wouldn’t be long until the water found its way down their collars and into their dry clothes. Tim’s boots sloshed and the muddy ground sucked at them. He caught glimpses of Sam as he weaved in and out of trees and brush.  Beneath the forest canopy, the temperature dropped at least ten degrees.

“Sam, stop.” His voice hovered between a whisper and a scream. “You’re going to get us killed.”

It’s the Abaddon, the shadow voice said. It’s coming to eat you.

The woods rang with myths. Well aware of the danger of letting his mind wander, Tim forced himself to think about the situation at hand.

“Stop it, Sam.” Tim said again, realizing his friend was in full-on panic mode, and the two of them were in serious danger. ^[bf]One animal was behind them, and God only knew how many more were in the woods.

The pair burst into a clearing and Sam stopped running. He fell to the ground, holding his bloody shoulder.

“But someone’s out there.” Sam said, his voice strained and filled with fear. His chest heaved with every breath.

“Listen,” Tim ordered. “Just listen.”

“What was that?” Sam said shivering in the rain, ^[bg]his shirt and pants bloody. He blinked several times, as if blinking would erase the horror of the animal that just attached them. “I mean, that thing had four sets of fangs in front like a wolverine.”

Sam held out four fingers and then stared at them, mesmerized by the sight of his own blood. Tim realized Sam was in shock.

Tim winced at the gashes in his chest and stomach, and felt like punching Sam for suggesting it was a wolverine. It was much bigger, and stood on its hind legs, something he had never seen a wolverine do.

“How big would you say that thing was?” Sam’s whole body shook with fear, and the gashes in his chest seemed to open and close with each vibration.

Tim shook his head and glanced around in every direction^[bh]. He could still smell the sour, acrid odor of the animal’s breath, and he gagged against the memory of it^[bi]. Heat radiated outward from his wounds, like someone had lit a small fire across his torso.

“We need to get out of here.” Tim applied pressure to his wounds and he looked^[bj] in and out of the shadows for any type of movement.

“That thing was over a hundred pounds ^[bk]easy and stood about four or five feet on its hind legs.” Sam tried to lift his arms up and curl his hands into claws, but the action made him double over with pain. “God damn it. God damn it. What the fuck is out here?”

“Sam, be quiet so I can think.” Tim tried to calm his breathing ^[bl]as the short sprint ^[bm]had winded him,

Darkness seeped into the scrub and undergrowth across the great Northwoods^[bn] as silence filled the air. The earth was soft under Sam’s feet and he couldn’t keep still.

A single, thick blue vein of lightning pierced the sky, and the clouds heaved with thunder. Rivers of rain fell from the heavens, but the storm didn’t concern the two hunters as they searched for a way out of the forest.

^[bo][bp]

Tim Stanton shook his head^[bq]. “I don’t know,” he said as he couldn’t unload the mental image of the beast he had just seen.

Sam stared off ^[br]into the forest. “It was too big for a wolverine. Could it have been a wolf?”

You^[bs] know what it is, Timmy, the shadow voice said^[bt]. He knew Sam was ^[bu] trying to find a reference point. Even though Tim had heard the stories of the woods told over and over since he was a boy, he couldn’t believe it was real. He wouldn’t let himself believe in the myths that stalked the woods. Maybe it would be better if Sam thought it was a wolf or a wolverine because those were animals he was ^[bv]familiar with. It was better for Sam to think about what had attacked them then to think about the fact that both of them were injured and over a mile from their car. ^[bw]

He swallowed but his mouth still tasted like acid. Pain radiated from the five gashes crossing his shoulder and stomach. Although he didn’t want to, he forced himself to look again at the mess. It made him want to throw up seeing the gashes filled with bloody jelly. An odor like rotten cheese stung his nose. A dull pain throbbed through his temples. The thought that the smell coming from his wounds was that of the animal’s breath made him cringe.

“Those noises sounded human.” Sam spat rainwater out as he shook his head in disbelief, and Tim put a hand up to stop the lunacy, but Sam wouldn’t allow it. “They were talking to us.”

“Sam, it was a trick. That thing wasn’t talking to us, it was just an animal.”

“There’s more than one…^[bx]” Sam held his hand up.

“There is?” Tim said still in shock. Then he realized that this animal, or a pack of them, still stalked the woods around him. He looked through the bramble for a path.

“Yeah there is.” Sam quieted his voice and leaned toward Tim. “What are we going to do?”

That ^[by]was the question. Tim looked past Sam to the north. A few miles in that direction stood the lodge at Black Bear Lake^[bz]. The two had hunted these woods since they were kids, but trekking through dense thicket in the middle of a fall storm was lunacy at best, even without their injuries. Still, that might be the safer route, given a pack of unknown predators stood between them and their truck.^[ca]

Tim turned and looked south, back from whence they came. He much preferred Johnson’s field over the forest, but the animals were probably feeding on the deer carcass, and they needed to avoid them at all costs.

“They ^[cb]were after the deer.” Sam’s pupils had dilated and his eyes looked like two empty holes. “It thought we were stealing its food, right?”

Tim watched steam escape from Sam’s mouth as the temperature dropped inside the forest. The visibility under the canopy dipped to twilight levels, and it wouldn’t be long before nightfall. Tim read the mixture of fear and pain on Sam’s face, and remembered the sign by the bathroom at the lodge at Black Bear Lake.

Stealing a glance^[cc] at Sam, he watched the man shiver as rain poured over the brim of his cap. If we are going to make it out alive, I have to get us out of here. He felt dizzy. He blinked and realized that Sam was saying something. Tim stared out at the woods around him, wondering how long they had been standing there.^[cd]

“You don’t think it was a wolverine?” Sam asked. “It had five claws up front, so it couldn’t have been a wolf. Wolves only have four up front.”

Sam pointed to his wound. Tim examined the five gashes on Sam’s shoulder. Forced to look at his own wounds again, a cold tremor rippled through his body. He heard the fear in Sam’s voice, and maybe the beginning of something worse than fear. Madness.^[ce]

Tim heard a twig break and spun around to see a woodchuck scamper in and out of some felled branches, and dart into a hole for shelter from the rain. He heard the far off call of a bird.

“The^[cf] woods are full of animals,” Tim said.

With ^[cg]the storm for cover, anything could creep up on them without notice. It would be on them almost before they could react.

A river of water poured from Sam’s cap now.

Sam’s face is pasty white. I have to get a grip. Then another unbidden thought passed through Tim’s mind, You know what it is.^[ch] It’s the Abaddon.

As if reading his friend’s mind, Sam said, “Did you hear it whisper? Did you see its teeth? What the hell was it?” His eyes widened, and a crooked grin crossed his lips, baring his teeth.

“How the hell should I know? ^[ci]You saw it too. What do you think it was?” Tim^[cj] couldn’t control the shaking in his thick, heavy hands. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. My shoulder and stomach are killing me. I’m scared shitless, and I could really use a shower and a cold beer.”

Tim licked his lips and his throat throbbed with thirst. His matted brown hair dripped sweat from under a greasy red cap, and the cold fall air licked at the hot liquid. Think, Timmy. Think your way out of this.

“There were others.” Sam’s voice trembled^[ck]. “I could hear them whispering from the woods.”

Was he shorter? Did fear condense him? He wanted to tell Sam he was mistaken but Tim had heard it too.

It’s the Abaddon. Tim shivered.

Tim thought about Alex Grant. His daughter, five-year-old Julie, had gone missing one day, and the search party had found pieces of her. Tim and Sam had been part of the expedition.

Tim recalled Alex lying in a ball on the ground, sobbing and calling out his daughter’s name. A child’s gym shoe sat a few feet from him. A moldering portion of his daughter’s ankle sat inside it. The slide show in his mind showed Alex’s slow descent into alcoholism and insanity. Grant said the Abaddon had taken her, and the whole town believed he was crazy. He said he had heard it calling at night in the woods. Some went so far as to accuse Grant of killing and dismembering his own child.

“Grant knew.” Tim wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. The words felt heavy to him as if saying them aloud made it true, and the gravity of the situation sunk in.

“What?” Sam said^[cl].

We’re being hunted by a myth, Tim thought. How do you escape a myth?

“Timmy,” Once again Sam lowered his voice and leaned forward. ^[cm]“I’ve never seen anything like that in my life.”

The wound in Sam’s shoulder gaped at him and Tim winced. It dripped blood and a pink stream ran down his leg and puddled at his feet.

“Jesus, man, you’re torn apart.” Sam said.

Tim felt the searing pain in his own wounds^[cn] and released a short, muffled cry. The cuts throbbed and stung. The bloody jelly transformed into an oily substance, outlined by pink, infected flesh.

“My God, Tim, what are we gonna do?”

^[co]

At that moment he yearned to take a nice hot shower and eat a hot meal. He closed his eyes and reopened them^[cp], hoping the nightmare would dissolve. It didn’t.

“Don’t panic,” Tim said, still catching his breath. “If you panic, we’re dead.”

“Don’t panic? Don’t panic?” Sam^[cq] stared at him. He cast a thumb over his shoulder. “I shot that thing in the chest and it got back up. With one hit it turned my shoulder into ground beef, and you tell me not to panic. Whatever it is, it has someone out there.”

Tim shook his head. “No it doesn’t.”

“But I heard^[cr]—”

 “You didn’t hear anything.”

“Yes, I did.”

“Look, I don’t know what that was, but it wasn’t human,” Tim said.

Sam used the hem of his shirt to pat down and stop the bleeding in his shoulder. Lightning flashed overhead, and a black shadow hung under the brim of Tim’s cap, hiding his eyes. He used his coat sleeve to wipe the rain from them, but the rain came down in buckets.

“Sam, I know this sounds crazy, but you can’t panic. ^[cs]You’re right, you did shoot that animal, and it did get back up. I don’t know how or why it did, but you can bet that it’s dying back there.”

Sam tried to protest.

“Yes it is, Sam. Yes it is. Nothing can take a point-blank shot like that and live for long. I don’t care what it is.”

“Tim, It’s the Abaddon.”

“The Abaddon’s a myth.”

“No. Grant was right. It’s here and it’s hunting us.”

“No, Sam,” Tim said, reaching out to touch his arm. “Listen to me.”

Sam couldn’t make eye contact.

“What happened to Julie Grant happened seventeen years ago. That’s a long time. If this animal had been stalking the woods all this time, we would have seen it.” Tim pleaded with Sam to keep his wits about him.

“What if it’s a nomad? What if it wanders around?”

 A nomad?  The thought hadn’t crossed Tim’s mind. Sam had a point.

From behind them, out of the clearing, came a low snort^[ct]. The two men whipped around to see a large, dark figure hulking just at the edge. Lightning struck, leaving the are in a spotlight and outlining the figure of a huge black bear. It reared onto its hind legs and then was back on the ground. Twigs and leaves clung to its matted, muddy fur.

It smells your blood, the shadow voice said and Tim shivered.

“Black bear,” Tim whispered. “Be quiet and move back into the woods.”

Tim thought about chambering his weapon but didn’t want to spook the bear. With the exception of the rain, the woods was now silent.^[cu] Pawing at the ground like a bull before a rush the bear grunted.

“Jesus, it smells our blood,” Tim said. “We’re being hunted.”

His mouth went dry. Motioning for Sam to follow, they edged toward the trail. The bear roared then froze. Sam and Tim mounted the mouth of the trail when the bear reared back and pawed at the sky. It sniffed at the air and bawled upward.^[cv]

It’s hungry. It’s hungry and the two of you are prey, the shadow voice whispered. Then the bear turned and ran away.

Sam and Tim stood frozen in place. Their feet, cold and muddy, seemed trapped in the wet earth.

“Sam, move!”        ^[cw] Tim tried to grab his friend, but wasn’t fast enough.

Sam looked toward the tree tops just in time to see the dark mass bounding downward. At almost five feet long, it was larger than a wolf, possibly weighing over 120 pounds. It landed on Sam’s back, crushing him to his knees.

It opened its jaws wide enough for Tim to see all four sets of canine teeth as it sunk them into the back of Sam’s^[cx] neck. The skeletal bones shattered and the force of the animal’s bite popped his left eye out of its socket. His mouth gaped wide enough to expose his teeth and gums. He tried to scream, but just a clenched gurgle sloshed from his shredded throat.

Tim stumbled backward as the beast jerked his old friend back and forth. Sam’s^[cy] arms danced in the air. Warm liquid splattered Tim’s face. His instincts told him Sam was dead, and if he didn’t run, he was too.

Off in the forest, a stream of howls rang like alarm bells. Sam surprised Tim and punched at the animal. ^[cz]

It let out a long snort, exhaling a stream of blood ^[da]through its nose. Sam reached a hand out toward Tim, and he screamed. The animal jerked harder. Choking, Sam crumpled face first into the ground.

The beast opened its eyes and stared at Tim. Sam stopped struggling. His mouth moved but nothing came out. His eyes pleaded with Tim to help him.

From the woods, several inhuman voices hissed.

Tim^[db] knew he had to abandon his friend. Springing to his feet, he sprinted away. From behind him he heard the sickening growls as the creature tore Sam’s flesh from his bones. ^[dc]