The Outkast

so is his mother.”

“So, do you believe in that?”

“In what?”

“That what the boy claims to have seen is real-and that this is it?”

“Fuck, no. I’m not that superstitious and stupid. Imagine how much of realness it must have held for us to have missed our way so many times.”

Dwayne kept silent.

Allan said, “But tell you what? Although I don’t believe the boy’s writing is anything more than a sick kid’s report, I’m scared all the same.”

“You’re scared?” Dwayne said, stressing the last word with disbelieve. “Now, that doesn’t make any sense, does it? If you don’t believe in what you’ve read, and you don’t believe we’re in the place described by the boy, why’re you worried?”

“I dunno. Probably doesn’t make any sense to anyone, including me-but whenever I remember that thing and how badly it stabbed Crawford repeatedly, it makes my blood curdle.”

“Nonsense. If I were you, such reflection would only make me wanna leave the son-of-a-bitch torn to ribbons. And I’m damn sure I will do that at some point. If not here, then wherever he is, we’ll track him down.”

They studied the night ahead of them and, having decided the coast was clear, they moved on, dodging behind big tree trunks from time to time, never staying more than six feet apart.

There was another flash across the sky, and at that instant, it was the familiar horrible face that Allan saw first before he even noticed the rest of the figure in black coveralls, whose arm was already coiled around Dwayne’s neck.

Allan watched in awe, thinking, I’ve been in this situation before. This is like lightning striking the same damn place two fucking times.

In the blink of an eye, Dwayne had been lifted off his feet, legs flailing in the air, neck still strangled by the sturdy arm.

What happened at Holly’s cottage was a slow-motion version of what Allan was about to witness. Just as he got over his awe and decided it was time to do something more productive than gawking, the monster flung Dwayne at him, knocking him down to the forest floor. Allan’s gun slipped off his hand and flew away, probably taking refuge underneath a pile of leaves or hiding behind a fallen trunk. Dwayne landed beside him, motionless at first, but then began to jerk his right leg, digging his heel against the dirt as he screamed.

Allan quickly drew out his second gun, and shot straight ahead before realizing the thing was no longer in front of them. He began to rise up, shooting as he did, aimlessly, not giving a damn that he was acting like a lousy amateur. Beside him, Dwayne dug some more and let out a cry-a sonorous, pain-filled shriek. In the flood of the moonlight, Allan could faintly see blood seeping out from underneath his partner. Within the brief time his eyes roamed across his comrade’s body, he saw something sticking out from the side of Dwayne’s chest, along his rib cage. A knife, Allan assumed, and squeezed another aimless shot into the air.

He was all the way up on his feet now. He whirled around in search of his target, but he didn’t have to look for long. The huge thing pounced from Allan’s left side, kicked the gun out of his hand, and slapped him so hard he found his butt on the ground one more time.

Allan cried. He scrambled to his feet again and ran. Ran very fast. Away from the battle front.

Chapter 20

“I’ve seen the devil again. Oh, my good Lord, I’ve come in close contact with death twice tonight,” Allan wept. “It’s a monster. We’ve got to get the hell out of here and run for our lives. We can never stand out against-”

“Would you shut up and just calm down for a sec?” Brian inched nearer and slapped him twice. He pulled Allan down into the trench they had been hiding. “Hell, keep your goddamned voice down.”

Delirious to the level of getting out of hand, Allan spoke bare-toothed. “I cannot, Sheriff… I just cannot calm down. There’s death around here… everywhere, every damn corner you turn, and I just can’t…” He paused to catch his breath. “What’s the point, anyway?”

“The point is, so he doesn’t track us down, you idiot.”

“Fuck, it already knows we’re here. Killed Dwayne. Almost killed me, but I ran,” Allan said, grinning, as if he was proud, very proud of his exceptional skill of escape. Brian thought his deputy might be going crazy under the power of the moon.

Craig groaned at the news of attack, looking from Allan to Brian, and then back to Allan.

Brian whispered, “Allan, I can see why you look and sound so hysterical-”

“No, you can’t. Not until you meet it.”

“I can see why you’re losing-”

A boy’s voice interrupted Brian’s next comment. The boy was talking to someone, pleading to let him go. There was a momentary flash of light from the mouth of the cave that made shadows scamper across the woods. Then, silence engulfed the place again.

About sixty meters ahead, from the side of the cave that was further away from the entrance Brian and Craig had spotted earlier, a figure emerged from behind a grove of trees, wearing a robe that the moonlight transmitted on a range of shades from gray to blue, to anything in-between. The figure briefly trained its flashlight forward in their direction.

For that short length of time, Brian’s heart stopped. He thought they had been spotted where they crouched. “Down,” he muttered.

Swiftly, the three men kept down even further, only allowing themselves a peep around the edge of a fallen tree that lay at the lip of the entrenchment, running their surveillance from behind it.

“Christ, they’re two,” Allan said with a voice caught between a desire to scream the words and a struggle to whisper them. “The first appeared in coveralls, and this one in a robe. Perfect.”

If there was anything yet that Brian wanted to agree with in regards to Allan’s reports, it was the size of the robed killer. The dimensions were intimidating, and that description was for poverty of words. Brian strained his eyes to glimpse the face of the shape, but there wasn’t enough light to see anything more than the silhouetted form from the distance.

They watched him as he looked around, worked his flashlight one more time, and then disappeared behind the grove.

“Who the fuck is this guy?” Craig whispered. “An evil priest, or what?”

“Stop calling this thing a guy. Doing so will only create a misconception that what we’re up against ain’t that bad. It’s a monster. A destroyer. A Neanderthal man at best. That’s what the hell it is,” Allan said. “If you see how easily and brutally it murdered Dwayne…” He trailed off, glancing at Brian who was favoring him with a not-so-impressed look. He finished his story, nonetheless. “All of Dwayne’s entrails are lying on the forest floor right now.”

Craig grimaced. “Oh, shit,” he said, and turned to Brian. “Know what I’m thinking?”

“Share it.”

“I’m thinking we should have shot him right there on the spot, while he was flashing his light around.”

“Bold move,” Brian said. “But it could’ve been a miss. And it wouldn’t have been worth it to draw attention for no gain. Not an option, unless we’re really forced to adopt the way of rashness.”

The robed figure came out again, this time dragging the boy along.

“Shit, that’s Robert Smallwood,” Brian muttered, sounding as if that fact of Robert’s abduction had just been revealed to him.

Allan wheeled his head towards Craig. “Have any idea what the best way to get back to the car is?”

“No,” Brian said before Craig could give a response. “We’re not going yet. Not gonna leave the kid to be slaughtered by that lunatic. I’m thinking, thinking of what to do-of how we’re gonna move in on that bastard pretty soon.” He looked to his side. “Allan?”

“Yeah?”

“Where’s your conscience? And where’re your guns, by the way?”