Minus Tide

be added to the pack… the man on the beach. Ann and the boy.

The dogs would not be denied.

He wished he could tell her what he saw when he looked at her. That he saw her mother staring back at him. Sarah’s ghost. Like it was when they drove down 101. Staying in motels tucked beneath looming redwoods. Sitting up late drinking while the radio played. Waiting for the sun to go down before sneaking out to the motel pool, being careful not to make much noise.

He’d hoped the girl would have been able to tell him more. About how to make the ghosts go away. His mother had warned him the night before he left for America, the night she’d secretly packed his father’s hunting knife in his pack. She’d had a dream of him as an older man, surrounded by dogs the color of blood. As soon as the killing started, she warned, the dogs would never let him rest.

And his mother had been right. They hadn’t let him rest. Their hunger kept growing. It didn’t matter if he wanted to kill or not, that he’d lost the taste for it long ago. No matter how much he tried to keep away from people-riding trains and camping on the outskirts of dying towns-they would eventually find him. He could be sharing a few words with another hobo and suddenly he’d hear them howling in the distance and he knew he’d soon be reaching for his knife.

He could see that Ann had no idea the dogs had arrived. Probably just thought a wind had picked up and tugged at his clothes. He could feel them gathering around his legs. Looked down and saw the faces of those he killed. Surprised at how many he no longer recognized.

They rubbed their noses against him, as if asking that he bend down and pat their heads. He stood still. Anticipated the coming tide that would soon flow up through his legs and into his blood, the bodies of the dogs moving faster and faster against his legs until he thought he smelled scorched cloth.

He stared down at Ann as his body shook. Unable to stop the ghosts from moving up his body. Now a cold electric current that made him clench his teeth.

A memory floated back above the waves of pain. The vision of Ann running naked through the dark woods. Of laughing about it then because he hadn’t understood its significance.

The dogs were excited. They wanted to chase the elk woman through the woods. And they wouldn’t denied.

Chapter 52

“Leave her alone,” Chad shouted.

Cyclops turned and stared, his body now charged with the energy of the dog pack. The boy was where he’d left him. His eyes were open and he was struggling to get up. Cyclops drew the knife from his jacket and the dogs barked excitedly.

Ann leaped forward and grabbed his arm. He lifted her up and pitched her against the concrete wall. She struck her head before dropping to the ground. Shards of broken glass bit into her palms. She felt him snatch her by the hair and lift her up against the wall and for a moment she saw silver motes dancing in the corners of her eyes. He leaned in close and waved the knife in front of her face.

“Don’t interfere, elk woman. Unless you want some of this.”

“What are you doing?” she cried.

“I think it’s his time, don’t you?”

“You don’t have to hurt him. He hasn’t done anything.”

“Why should it matter to you what happens to the boy? You just said a moment ago that nothing was permanent.”

“Then take me. I don’t think he’d even be here if it wasn’t for me.”

Cyclops stared at her. His single eye seeming to have filled his entire forehead like that of an insect. Ann gasped and looked away.

“I’ll take care of one thing at a time.”

“You’re crazy!”

“I know. But the dogs always get what they want.”

“The dogs? What dogs?”

“You don’t see them?”

“No. You’re just imagining them.”

Cyclops laughed. “I’m not surprised you’d say that.”

He let her go and started toward the boy, wading through the thick river of dogs that now filled the parking lot. They fought and howled for the best place to watch. He refused to look at them, didn’t want to see their faces anymore.

He heard a familiar sound and stopped. Recognized the growl of an engine. When he looked up toward the highway he saw the lightless van roaring down the empty highway. He looked over his shoulder and saw Chad struggling to sit up.

Not yet boy. Not just yet.

He ran up to the drive and waved. The van skidded to a stop in the middle of the highway. Sat while its engine boiled. It was too dark to see who was inside.

“Joseph,” he shouted.

The door swung open and the sheriff slid out and landed on weak legs. His clothes were covered in blood. His eyes moved slowly, as if he’d been hitting the whiskey. They paused on Ann. What is she doing here?

“He says he’s going to kill us,” Ann screamed.

The sheriff raised Cuke’s.45 and pointed it at the Cyclops’ forehead.

“Toss the knife to me. Slowly.”

Cyclops grinned. He lobbed it toward the sheriff and it landed next to his feet.

“Now get your ass on the ground. Before I blow out that goddamned eye of yours.”

Chapter 53

Ann followed the sheriff’s orders and ran to check on Chad. He didn’t appear to be bleeding anywhere that she could tell. But his face and hands were pale and he was cold to the touch. She noticed deep bruises around his neck. When he’d heard her voice he’d looked up and smiled weakly.

“Can you walk?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where do you hurt?”

“All over…”

She lifted his arm and flung it over her shoulder and helped him to his feet. His legs were wobbly.

“I don’t know about this.”

“You’re going to have to try and help me Chad. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Where are we going?”

“There’s a boat down below. It still has a little gas left in it.”

“But the sheriff is here.”

“I don’t think we can count on anything.”

Cyclops watched as the sheriff seemed to expand and contract with each wave of pain, the barrel of the.45 still leveled at his face. He noticed the dogs sniffing hungrily at the sheriff’s legs. The blood that had soaked through his pants now trickled across his boots.

He still hadn’t lain on the ground as the sheriff had ordered. He’d seen something in the sheriff’s eyes that gave him hope that he wouldn’t have to. It was obvious the sheriff was teetering on the edge consciousness.

The dogs raised their heads and whined. As loud and piercing as a railcar crying against steel and causing his