Into that Good Night

The night around him was black as pitch. He leaned his face closer to the mossy tree and tried to disappear. His lungs burned. His chest heaved from his escape from the house. The quiet of the woods amplified his breathing, and he knew he could be heard from a mile away. An owl screeched from the trees and made him jump. He slid down the tree to keep his shaking knees from giving in. The ground was wet and cold. He shuddered from the chill, but it wasn’t the weather. Fear rose up from the pit of his stomach. He clenched his eyes shut, but couldn’t chase the images from his mind. Cold as death, they played on his eyelids like a drive-in movie. The blood was everywhere. Rich, red and fresh. The iron smell came to him like the images, making him nearly throw up.

He opened his eyes, mere inches from the fuzzy tree. He listened. The footsteps were faint, irregular. He prayed that he just imagined them, but his brain told him they were all too real. He had to work at it to hold his bladder, knowing that the smell would give him away if his heavy breathing hadn’t already. He had to focus, to think, if he was going to live through this ordeal. He had to stand, to run, to get away. He was in good physical shape. He was a good runner. He knew these woods like his own backyard. He could do this, he thought, as he closed his eyes one more time.

He willed himself to think of something to live for, something to run to: Darla. She wouldn’t want him to die out here like this. She’d want him to live, to survive. “Ok”, he thought to himself. He imagined staring into Darla’s steel gray eyes.

“I’m going to live, Baby.” he spoke only to her, within the confines of his inner mind.

She smiled that thin-lipped half smirk that only she could do.

“Then get going, Tiger. Get your ass up and move!” His vivid imagination motivated him, her words stirring him into motion.

He slowly, ever so slowly, rose up from the ground, trying desperately to be part of the tree. His fingertips floated over the wet moss on the tree, holding him steady as he begged his legs to cooperate. He would need them if he was to do this. He made it to a standing position after what seemed like an hour, but he knew was only a few ticks of the clock. He tried hard to even out his breathing. His heart rate wouldn’t allow it, as blood pounded in his ears. Fear does that. He choked back a tear as he decided the fear would have to take a back seat. He had Darla to get to, tonight.

A glance behind him showed a red glow growing over the tree tops down in the valley. The moon was lost in the low hanging blanket of dark clouds, but the glow shimmered slightly on them. He couldn’t make out the house. He knew it wouldn’t be long before it was fully engulfed. Three light foot steps shuffled in the leaves to his right rear. They were closer than before, maybe fifty feet away. He couldn’t be sure. The tears rolled down his cheeks as he pushed the images aside again. Darla. Nothing but Darla, now. He stared intently towards a black chasm just beyond the tree, away from the foot steps. He took a deep breath of cold air. It was time to get back to Darla. Then he ran.

In the valley below, the house was burning. The flames licked out of a bedroom window and kissed the eave of the roof. It wouldn’t be long before the fire engulfed the entire house. A siren wailed in the distance. Someone had seen the smoke and called the fire department. The front door of the ranch style house opened, black smoke billowed quickly out onto the front porch. A woman appeared, on all fours, crawling out of the house. Her long black hair singed, her white cotton night gown soot stained and smoking, she crawled all the way down the six wooden steps of the porch until exhaustion hit her. Her lungs were deprived and she sucked in the cool night air as if her next breath would be her last. As far as Darla was concerned, it almost was. She choked and coughed up an unspeakable grossness of phlegm until she could appreciate the cool air of the night. She lay on the grass, hearing the distant siren, but it didn’t register. Breathing was all she could concentrate on, at the moment.

The Shawnee County Fire Department Engine pulled up the long gravel driveway, red lights in disco mode and siren howling. The noise finally registered on her. She raised up, weakly, to a sitting position. The porch was just beginning to see flames roll under the eaves. The front window blew out and covered her in shards of hot glass. She screamed. Two firefighters appeared beside her and carried her to safety. They took her to the pine tree in the yard, where the big fire truck would be between her and the fire, and the paramedic began to work on her. She cried openly, as the man’s gloved hands deftly removed three quarter-sized pieces of the window from her scalp, and one smaller one from her back. He gently patched her up and soothingly talked to her as he worked. She watched the bonfire that used to be her home and tried to focus on his voice. Finally, her overwhelmed mind heard what he was asking.

“Is there anyone else in the house, mam? Can you tell me if there’s anyone else in the house?”

Darla remembered, then screamed “Bob! Oh my God! Bob!”

“Is he in the house? Is Bob in the house?” By this time the house was almost fully involved. The fire was devouring her home.

“No! No! You don’t understand.” She was becoming frantic. The paramedic was wondering if she was in shock.

“ Out there!” She pointed towards the dark woods to the east side of the house, not even fifty yards away.

“I was …attacked!” She sobbed messily now, her words choking on her tears and lack of oxygen. She gulped for air a couple of times.

“That…thing…is out there…and so is Bob!” The paramedic put an oxygen mask to her face and told her to take long breaths. He waved at his Captain, who was directing the attack on the fire.

“Captain! We’ve got a situation!”

He had managed to run a good twenty five feet, or so, before his foot caught a root and he went down hard into the dirt. He lay still, chest heaving and heart thundering. He lay still, trying hard to control his breathing. After a very long minute, he tried to listen. Silence. Hopeful, he raised up on his elbows. The evil sound hit his ears stabbed his soul like an ice pick. It wasn’t a howl. It wasn’t loud enough. The gurgling, gnashing sound was muffled, but full of hate and anger. It was a demon on the hunt. His fear rose again, and he buried his head in the ground and covered his ears. He felt his bladder give way when the beast growled again. He didn’t waste his time listening this time. He jumped up again and took off.

The woods circled the house, with only the southern side opening up for the road that went out to Highway 12. The house sat alone here on the west end of the valley, at the bottom of a tree covered fishbowl. The hills rose gently away from the house for a little while, then got steep. The top of the valley nearest the house was full of rock formations and crevices. There were dozens of gullies and slews and even a small creek between Darla’s house and the top of the hills. At the top was a narrow strip of a logging road that jutted out from Highway 12. That was where he was headed. If he could get there before this evil thing, he’d be safe. He knew it. He’d given himself that one, all encompassing goal. Get to the logging road. He’d get to Shuck Road or die trying.

In the dark woods, the Beast limped slowly. His prey was noisy, easy to track. Even without the noise, the Beast could smell his fear. The taste of it made his mouth water. His bloodied fangs dripped onto the leaves at his feet. Despite his wounds, his hunger would be quenched tonight. The Beast would feast.

The sheriffs deputy took the report. The intruder had probably entered through an open window while Darla had been in the bathroom. Bob had been resting in the living room, warming by the fire. When she’d came out of the bathroom, he’d came up behind her. She struggled long enough to smell his horrid breath on her neck and hear his beastly laugh. Tiring of the fight, he hit her with something. It was hard enough to knock her out. He shoved her onto the bed and landed heavily on her. It was then that Bob must’ve heard them struggling and Darla’s muffled screams. He ran in, still mostly asleep. He’d undergone a minor surgery recently and wasn’t feeling well. That didn’t stop him from diving in immediately and pulling the intruder off of Darla, and onto the floor. Bob had bloodied the animal’s leg dragging him off of her. They’d scuffled on the hardwood before the man made it to the bedroom door and into the living room. Bob had chased him and tackled him near the fireplace. In the struggle, a stand up lamp had been knocked into the fire, causing embers to scatter. One of them was hit with the fire poker, splattering blood on the rug. They’d both ran out the door, into the woods. Darla woke not long afterwards and dragged herself to the bedroom door. She saw the blood on the white rug and the leather couch fully in flames. She managed to make her escape, albeit on her hands and knees.

Darla breathed deeply into the oxygen mask. The paramedic squatted beside her, finishing up the patch job on her cuts. He couldn’t convince her to go to the hospital, to get checked out. She’d let him drape a thermal blanket over her, but there was no way she was going to leave until they found Bob. She saw the sheriffs deputy return to his squad car and take off down the rocky driveway. The Chief came over to her.

“Don’t worry, miss. They’re going to find him. There’s only a couple of roads that’ll lead out of this valley from this end, and the deputy is calling out every available unit, and Search and Rescue units, to cover them. They’ll find the guy that attacked you.” he said.

“I don’t care about him! I just want Bob back here! I don’t want him to get hurt.” she sobbed.

The Chief nodded.

“They’ll do everything they can, mam. They’ll do their best.”

Darla brushed the tears from her cheeks and looked to the hills. She prayed silently for Bob’s safe return. She squeezed her eyes shut and begged God to bring her love back. The flames from her home crackled behind her.

The uphill climb slowed him down almost as much as the darkness. He was beginning to tire out. He had fair night vision, but the clouds in the night sky covered the moonlight. Even if he’d had a flashlight, the hills would have made this journey difficult. He would climb as quickly, and quietly, as he could for a spell, then he’d stop and listen. He thought he could still hear the rustling leaves of nearby footsteps. He couldn’t make out any of the animal sounds, but they were still fresh in his mind. He stumbled a couple of times. Both times he could hear the footsteps behind him quicken, along with his fear. Catching his breath, he realized he could hear the creek ahead. That gave his heart cause for hope, since the road wasn’t far past the narrow, slow moving water. When the footsteps halted, he pushed on towards the creek. Maybe crossing in the cold water would help to throw off his scent. His shirt stuck to his body with sweat, and dirt and leaves clung to him from the many falls. The killer behind him could probably smell him through the dark. Especially if it smelled fear.

The hills were tiring the Beast out. He came on anyway. Slowly, steadily, making it’s way towards the sound of it’s prey. Towards the feeling of fear that led him like a beacon in the night. The old Beast sighed and his eyes reddened. He’d kill this scared little rabbit soon. He licked his lips and followed the fear.

He was sucking wind now. The hill was sapping his energy quickly. He leaned on a tree and looked at the small creek. The water had to be freezing, but the road was just up the slope on the other side. He’d find help there, he was sure of it. He knew he better, because the creek was nearly waist deep, and it’d steal a good deal more of his motivation when he was soaked to the bone. He bare his teeth, steeled his mind and tromped into the icy waters. Those same teeth were audibly chattering by the time he put his soaked, and muddy, feet on the opposite side. Wet from the crotch down, and -Damn!- he was cold. He scurried up the small bank, to the road. He could hear a splash upstream. Then the same gurgling howl. The fear was colder than the water.

The water hurt the Beast. It slowed him down, his body trying to give up, even while his instincts pushed him forward. There was no choice, but to move in for the kill. The ground under his feet again, he shook the water off and made his ascent to the road. This pig would die tonight.

He saw the white Bronco sitting on the shoulder ahead. He looked up and down the road, but saw no one. It was a welcome sight. Like when he was a kid and played Hide and Go Seek. That satisfaction you got when you made it to “base” without “it” getting you first. He walked quicker, despite his labored breath. He could see safety in the cab of that truck. Sanctuary. Escape. He even began to smile. Hope hadn’t left him yet.

The Beast crawled onto the road and lay still. He was exhausted, wet and cold. His instinct drove him down the middle of the road. The object of his hate was walking across the road, not 100 feet away. There was a truck there. No! He thought. He will NOT get away. That is unacceptable. It can’t happen. It WON’T happen. He ignored his pain and pushed away all feelings save one: hate.

His hand was on the door handle when he heard it: the patter of wet footsteps on asphalt. He turned in time to see blur jump forward, led by a mouthful of angry teeth. The Beast latched onto his face with it’s strong, wide mouth. It’s teeth punctured both sides of his head in several places. He fell back against the truck like a sandbag. He tried to scream, but the jaws clutched him so tightly near his own jaw that he could only emit a gurgle mixed with terrified moan. He fell to the road, and the Beast followed. He tried to push it away with his weak hands, but the Beast shook it’s head, and his, and he felt a distinct “pop” as his right eye suddenly bulged out of it’s socket from the violent shaking the Beast was inflicting on him. He screamed from his mind, even if it just came out of his mouth in a frothy gurgle. He went limp, barely conscience as the creature of hate clawed and chewed on him. He thought he caught a glimpse of blue flashing lights from his one intact eye, just as a loud crunching noise stopped the pain and turned off the lights forever.

The deputy called in the white Bronco as he watched the bloody scene in front of him. With back up on the way, he opened his door and pulled his sidearm. The Beast was on top of the body, obviously shredding it by now. The officer approached slowly, pistol deliberately pointed down and away for safety. He slowly walked to within twenty feet of the Beast, intent on not interrupting what looked to be it’s meal. The Beast finally heard him. He stopped his destruction long enough to look over his shoulder. The deputy shivered when he saw the Beasts bloody jaws. From the bloody teeth, the Beast dropped the eyeball it had just torn from it’s socket. He licked his salty lips and looked back at the body. He nudged it, stepped on it, assuring himself that it would never breath again. Satisfied, he turned towards the deputy and walked towards him, almost casually. The deputy watched nervously. The Beast began to trot towards him now, picking up the pace and closing the gap. The officer stood up and holstered his pistol, and smiled.

Darla sat staring at the house as the firefighters finished dousing the flames. The place was destroyed. She wasn’t thinking about her belongings, or the house itself, just now. She searched her heart and mind for each memory that she and Bob had made here. The lazy days when it rained, just laying in bed and watching television. The sunny days spent walking the paths through the hills. She spilled a fresh tear from her cheek and looked away from the smoking ruins. The flashing blue lights caught her attention. The squad car pulled up the gravel road and stopped.

She remembered the deputy. He’d promised to find Bob; promised to bring him home. She stood up and pulled the blanket close around her. The deputy got out of the car and smiled at her. Her hopes soared and the anticipation was unbearable. The officer turned to open the passenger door. She hesitated, then started towards the car. The gurgling howl startled her. Her eyes widened as the beast leaped from the back seat. He ran to Darla, the blood curdling howl melting into Darla’s ears as she matched it with a scream of her own. The Beast jumped at her outstretched arms.

“Bob!” She screamed with joy, as the huge black and white Boxer/Pitt Bull mix covered her in kisses.