Fire at Dusk: Part 32

Mike paced silently in front of the table. He paused and turned to face the shelf of skulls. “You know,” he said, “This was all Parker's doin'. Started with a Yank fallin' into one of our traps. Parker always hated them Yanks mighty fierce.”

He pulled out a pipe and a small bag of tobacco. He gripped the soft shreds of tobacco between his fingers and stuffed them into the pipe, then he shoved the baggy back into his pocket.

“That Yank, he yelled at us fer puttin' traps out in the middle of the woods. Parker didn't take kindly ta being yelled at by him, 'specially since these were our stompin' grounds. They got inta a brawl. He pushed the Yank onto the ground.”

He bit down lightly on the pipe and wrapped his lips around the mouthpiece. He puffed on it as he lit it with a match. He felt the light wisps of smoke fill his mouth and the sweet smell of pipe tobacco wafted lightly through the air.

“Then Parker pulled out a knife. I thought he was just gonna have a little fun with him, maybe give him a scar or somethin', but he had murder on his mind. He slit old tubby's neck. I ain't never seen so much blood. He blamed me ya know, fer not stoppin' him. Said I were an 'accessory'. Said we were both gonna get locked up unless I helped him get rid of the body.”

He nursed the pipe in his hand and gazed into the pipe's chamber. The tobacco smoldered as threads of smoke wove their way around his face. He sighed then puffed at the pipe. After a minute he continued. “Parker bein' the butcher said the best way to get rid of the body was ta grind it up and turn it into sausage then burn and mill the bones. He said burnnin' up the whole body would take too long and would smell ta high heavens. We spent the next few weeks like long-tailed cats in a room full of rockin' chairs, sure we were gonna get caught, but nobody ever was any the wiser.”

He looked over at Buck and Shirley Sue. Their faces had developed a green tinge and they exchanged glances with each other as though they could not believe what he was saying. He couldn't blame them. It was an unbelievable story. He took a few more puffs on his pipe and blew a smoke ring, then watched as it drifted through the air, disappearing into nothingness.

“Somethin' changed in him after that. I think it were the money that did it. We found a couple hundred in the wallet and the townsfolk just couldn't get 'nough of the sausage. Sold out after a couple days, ya know. Then he started settin' up traps tryin' to catch the Yanks. He even hunted one or two of 'em when he didn't catch one in a while. Said them Yanks were nothin' but cattle and deserved what they got. It never set quite right fer me, but the money was good...” Mike trailed off. He shook his head. “It was all goin' hunkydory until the other night. That's when he caught them pair of witches.” Mike glared at the body hanging from the wall. “The man said that on his death our evil would come to life and 'bring a plague of death on the townsfolk' until we were both dead. I got real scared 'bout it but Parker just laughed it off, sayin' he didn't believe in that stuff. He said there ain't no such thing as curses.” Mike scoffed. “Guess he was dead wrong.”

Fire at Dusk: Part 31

Shirley Sue watched Mike as he peered around the door and scanned the room. He gripped both the stock of the rifle and the flashlight with one of his hands, while the index finger of his other hand hovered over the gun's trigger.

Their eyes met. “You can never be too careful,” he said to her. “Ya never know when someone is lurking 'round the corner.”

Still watching the duo, Mike balanced the rifle against his arm as he palmed the wall. The sound of a click echoed through the room. Several overhead lights sprang to life, bathing the room in a yellow tinted glow.

Shirley Sue squinted as her eyes adjusted to the overhead lights. She fixed her gaze on Mike, waiting for an opportunity to escape or attack.

“Now, like I were sayin' outside. I ain't got nothing personal 'gainst you two. 'Sall business ya see.”

Mike set the flashlight and bag down on a table beside the door and leaned the rifle against the same table. In addition to the bag and flashlight, there were several ropes which lay on the table. He grinned at Shirley Sue and Buck.

“In case y'all get any funny ideas,” he said flashing them the butt of a pistol which hung at his side in a holster. “It's loaded, and you better believe I'm a quick draw.”

Shirley Sue stiffened as she watched Mike pick up a couple of the ropes. He kept his eyes on the duo as his hands went to work on the cord.

“Shirley Sue go sit down at that table,” he said to her. “Buck, watch yer girlfriend and put yer hands behind yer back.”

Shirley Sue glanced around the room, looking for any sign of the deputy as she made her way to the table, which was about ten feet in front of her. She shivered as she saw the all too familiar shelf of skulls. She felt her stomach lurch as she noticed the woman. Motionless, her body dangled by arms which were fastened into place by bloody steel cuffs. The chains only provided enough slack for her legs to tilt toward the ground bout not quite reach, leaving her knees floating around six inches above the hard concrete. Around her was a pool of blood. Her body looked badly bruised and cut with long trails of dried blood flowing down her arms and staining her cloths.

Shirley Sue reached the chair and sat down. She turned and looked at Mike as he put the rope around Buck's wrists. With a quick pull, the loops tightened around his wrists. Mike's hands moved quickly as he worked on Buck. After he was finished, he pushed Buck over to the table and motioned for him to sit. Buck obliged without resistance.

“Yer turn,” he said looking at Shirley Sue. Before she could process what he was doing, he had already grabbed her arms and placed them in similar loops to those of Buck's. She let out a yelp as the rope clinched around her wrists.

Fire at Dusk: Part 30

Shirley Sue and Buck turned around and faced the bright yellow light. Shirley Sue squinted in the beam, but even though she could not see the flashlight's wielder, she knew the voice.

“What do you want Mike?” she said.

“You see this gun lil-miss?” said Mike. “It means I get ta ask the questions.”

Shirley Sue craned her head to watch Mike as he paced behind the duo, keeping his eyes trained on Buck. He aimed the flashlight toward their lower backs. His eyes flicked from one to the other. Shirley Sue could see his face clearly now. Mike looked Shirley Sue in the eyes and winked at her, then he shoved the barrel of the rifle into Buck's back, causing Buck to stumble forward.

“Hey! Take 'er easy Mike!” said Buck.

Mike grabbed a hold of the shotgun and disarmed Buck. He then proceeded to pat down the pair.

Shirley Sue winced and looked straight ahead as Mike began to frisk her. She felt ill as she considered the atrocities those hands must have committed, the hands which now traveled along her body.

“Sorry 'bout this, I ain't meanin' ta be fresh with ya Shirley Sue,” he said as he frisked her. He grabbed a hold of the handkerchief wedged between her belt and shorts and unwrapped the claw. He examined the razor sharp object, turning it in the beam of the flashlight.

Mike tossed the claw into a bag that hung from his shoulder.

“Looks like you two been real busy tonight.”

He then circled back around to face them.

“I don't know what to do with y'all,” sighed Mike. “I reckon y'all be snoopin' 'round enough ta know what we got goin' on in here. So I can't just let ya go. Why don't we go on in the mill and talk 'bout this for a bit.”

Mike passed his keys off to Buck and directed the duo to walk in a single file line with Buck at the head of the line. Shirley Sue marched forward in unison with Buck until they reached the door to the mill.

“Unlock it and enter,” said Mike. “Oh, and nothin' funny, unless you've got some business with yer maker.”

The key ring jingled in Buck's hand as he fit the key Mike had singled out into the door. He twisted the key and turned the knob, then opened the door to the mill and stepped through. Shirley Sue followed him into the blackened building.

Fire at Dusk: Part 29

Shirley Sue and Buck stood outside of the door of the mill. Buck tapped his foot while he waited and Shirley Sue stood with her thumbs tucked away in the pockets of her shorts, looking toward the building. The moon had disappeared from the night sky, leaving the stars as the only form of illumination in the night. Buck looked up. The mill towered over him and Shirley Sue, obscuring half the sky. He wished they could be alone together, anywhere else. He sighed. He knew that after tonight things would go back to the way there were before, with him pining after her as he struggled to work up the nerve to ask her on a date. He had never been good with words, but tonight he wished more than ever that he could say something to woo his childhood friend.

“Look!” Buck whispered “A shooting star!”

Shirley Sue looked into the sky and spotted the meteorite. Her eyes followed the long streak of light which disappeared behind the building.

“Another one right there!” Shirley Sue whispered back. “Make a wish!”

In spite of the evening's events the duo smiled widely, although darkness concealed their expressions from one another. Shirley Sue shivered as the cool night breeze brushed across her bare arms.

“I'm a little cold,” she said rubbing her arms with her hands, and then leaned against Buck.

Buck's heart skipped a beat as he wrapped his arms around her. They stood in silence, staring into the sky, the evening's events melted away like a nightmare they had awoken from.

“Shirley Sue,” Buck whispered. “I've been wantin'-”

A beam of light spilled over the pair. “Aw, I hate to break up such a sweet moment,” said a deep voice behind them. “But you best be puttin' yer hands up or I'll put a bullet in yer heads.” The sentence was punctuated with the click of a gun hammer being drawn back.

Buck and Shirley Sue complied with the order.

“Now turn around nice and slow like,” ordered the voice. “I thought I seen you two bein' chased off by that monster earlier. Judgin' by that shotgun, I reckon you've come back ta settle some business.”

Fire at Dusk: Part 28

Deputy Smith regained her composure and approached workbench. Its surface was caked with dried blood. The steel blade of the table-saw protruded from beneath the bench, glistening in the beam of her flashlight. The teeth of the saw looked razor sharp and the blade was free of any blood or rust. Nearby sat a blue recycling bin that mostly contained bones, although she also noticed swashes of peach and red mixed in with the white. She leaned over the plastic tub. Some of the larger bones had scrapes and missing chunks; someone had shaved every last scrap of tissue from them.

She straightened up and her eyes once again locked with the head which rested on the table. She the sharp jawline, blue eyes, and thick black hair. The features looked familiar. She was sure she had seen this face recently. It didn't belong to any of the townsfolk, so where could she have seen it from?

She thought back over the last week and tried to fit the the pieces together. A spark flashed in the back of her mind. She removed the wallet from her back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. She separated the edges of the paper from one another and unfolded the poster. She moved the beam of light over the sheet and examined it. At the top of the page in an uppercase, bold font read the word “MISSING”. She held the paper near the severed head.

The face looked older than the one in the picture and the skin was shrunken and pulled tot from drying out, but this was the man who had gone missing last week from the tourist party. She and the sheriff had called off their search after a few days of searching for him. Visitors to the area seemed to have a knack for getting lost in these woods. She had assumed that had been the case for this poor soul as well.

The deputy shook her head, “What have you done Mike...” she whispered.

Deputy Smith scanned the room with her flashlight as she walked toward the main entrance of the building. Her flashlight skimmed a shelf which hung from the far wall. A dozen or so skulls line the shelf.

Fire at Dusk: Part 27

The trip to the mill had been mostly quiet. Exhaustion had set in and any attempt at small talk had evaporated into the night air. Several popping sounds, one right after the next, drew them from their dormancy.

“Were those gunshots?” asked Buck as he scanned the canopy.

Deputy Smith nodded, “I reckon they were. Not much we can do from here. Let's just hope whoever's out there is alright.”

After a few more minutes of walking, a faint, foul odor wafted to the trio. Shortly thereafter, they entered the clearing in which the mill was stationed. The deputy switched off her flashlight and Shirley Sue and Buck followed suit. They would need the element of surprise if they were going to apprehend Mike.

The party crept up to the mill. The gravel lining the pathway leading to the entrance crunched under their feet. As they approached, the darkened hull shuddered and groaned at them as a breeze buffeted its walls. Buck kicked a small stone, which ricocheted off the side of the mill. The trio froze upon hearing the soft, tinny sound, which was amplified by the silence. After what seemed like an hour, they continued to move toward the building.

“This is where you heard him yelling?” whispered the deputy.

Buck and Shirley Sue bobbed their heads, although the darkness concealed their movements from the deputy. “Yeah,” replied Buck.

The trio strained their ears and listened for any sign of Mike or the woman but all they heard was the meandering of the nearby river and the occasional drip which echoed through the large, warehouse-like structure.

Deputy Smith drew her pistol and then she, Shirley Sue, and Buck edged their way around the exterior of the mill to the main entrance. The deputy grasped the cool metal doorknob and twisted it.

“Locked,” she whispered. “I'll go in through one of the windows and unlock it from the other side.”

After several more minutes of searching, they came across a window devoid of any glass. Buck hoisted the deputy through the window and she dropped down to the other side. The interior of the building was pitch black. Her stomach churned as she was assaulted by the smell of decay. She futilely shielded her nostrils with her hand. She gazed into shadows, but her eyes were only met with the inky blackness. Reluctantly, she switched on her flashlight. She choked back a scream. On the long, workbench in front of her sat a disembodied head, its mouth twisted in an eternal wail.

Fire at Dusk: Part 26

The sheriff slowed his vehicle to a stop. His breaths started to quicken as his eyes focused on the creature. It had taken an interest in the crushed four-wheeler ahead and was blocking the way to the forest path. Its head swiveled toward him. The sheriff clutched the gun at his side as ice began to form in his veins. His eyes moved from the creature to his abandoned vehicle. From this distance he could make out Jimmy's dismembered arm dangling in the turquoise light. He glanced over at the creature and their gazes locked with one another. The beast's color began transitioning from the turquoise to violet before changing to a deep crimson. The sheriff quickly looked away.

The idling vehicle chugged in the darkness while the sheriff considered his options. He could try to circumvent the monster and continue to the forest path or he could turn around and find another route. He decided that he would have to take one of the longer trails back to town. They weren't quite as well-traveled as this one, but he had little choice unless he wanted to risk a confrontation with the beast.

The sheriff, keeping his eyes on the creature, turned his vehicle around and headed toward a different part of the tree-line. He felt uneasy as he watched the creature disappeared behind horizon. It seemed to blaze with pure hatred. Why had it just stood there, watching him? Why had it let him go?

After a few minutes he arrived at one of the other forest trails. This was an older trail, but he could make his way back to town using it.

“Three lefts and a right,” mumbled the sheriff. “That'll get you back safe and sound.”

A blood curdling, inhuman wail rattled through the sheriff's bones, causing the hairs on his neck to stand straight up as a shiver traveled down his spine. He looked behind him but saw no sign of the beast. Yet still, he could not shake the unsettling feeling which permeated his body and filled his lungs, suffocating him.

“Just try and follow me back to town ya bastard,” the sheriff taunted. “Then we'll see who makes it to dawn.”

The sheriff turned onto the dirt trail. The path was bumpier then he had remembered, which slowed him down considerably, but he felt like he was making good time. After several minutes of travel he came to the first fork in the road. His stomach turned as he realized that he was not as familiar with the trail as he had originally thought. He needed to take a left here didn't he? He stopped the vehicle and studied the two paths. His pulse raced and he pulled out a handkerchief to wipe his forehead. He swiveled his head at the sound of crackling underbrush. He squinted into the darkness but saw nothing aside from trees.

“Take it easy there Clark, that thing ain't following you now,” he spoke aloud. “Even if it is, you can outrun it.”

His words provided a fleeting sense of comfort which was shattered by the sound of the forest cracking in the distance.

The sheriff accelerated the vehicle down the left path, pushing aside his fears. He continued down the path for some time, but after a few minutes worry began to erode away his confidence. Maybe he should have taken the right path. Shouldn't he have come to the next fork by now? He slowed the vehicle, trying to decide if he should turn it around or not. No, he was going the right way. After another minute of traveling down the trail, panic began to creep into his heart, causing it to flutter out of rhythm. The darkness blotted out the landmarks. All the trees looked the same. He felt like he was moving in circles. He had to turn around; he needed to take the path to the right.

The sheriff reluctantly turned his vehicle around and began to head back toward the fork. He was positive that left was his salvation, but nothing seemed right now. After a few minutes he saw the fork ahead in the lights of the four-wheeler. He cautiously approached the fork, looking around for familiar landmarks that would guide him home.

He was scanning the area when he saw a distant part of the forest glowing crimson. His heart skipped a beat. He needed to make up his mind now if he wanted to make home at all. The sheriff started down the right path. The wheels of the four-wheeler bumped under him as he traveled down the the trail. Over the sound of the engine he heard the beast wail again. He looked in his side mirror to see the vibrant red glow following along behind him.

The sheriff accelerated the vehicle. The bumps came more rapidly and knocked him around like a rodeo horse. The monster was in pursuit, but the distance between them grew as the sheriff continued at his current speed. The vehicle let out a several gasps and slowed to a halt. The sheriff cranked on the key, but the vehicle refused to budge. He looked down at the gas gauge. The needed floated like a ghost below the orange “E”.

The sheriff pounded on the steering mechanism, but he could not will the four-wheeler into motion. He looked behind himself along the trail and saw the beast galloping toward him. The sheriff felt weak as he stood up and turned to face the creature. His hand shook furiously as he drew his gun. As the monster moved closer, he took careful aim at it. The crimson glow surrounded him and filled him with terror. The sound of several gunshots echoed through the forest followed by a human cry of agony, and then there was silence.

Fire at Dusk: Part 25

The sheriff put the four-wheeler into drive and started his trek across the field. He could see himself back at home, getting one last nightcap in before settling down for the evening. All that stood between him and something to calm his nerves was this field and that damn forest trail.

He glanced at the side mirror and saw the deputy's graduation tassel flowing in the wind. He felt a twinge in his chest. Every time he looked down at it, a fresh wave of guilt washed over him.

“Bah, I thought I told her to get rid of this thing,” the sheriff growled.

He reached down and tugged on the tassel, but only succeeded in changing the trajectory of the vehicle. “This is just what she wanted,” he fumed. “Rub her fancy-smancy education in my face. Newsflash hun, I didn't hire you fer yer brains.”

She wanted to make him feel inferior for his lack of education. She deserved to be left behind. Maybe he wouldn't have been so quick to desert her if she had learned to loosen up a bit. That girl never seemed to smile. When they did sit down and have a conversion it was all business. She would always make 'helpful' suggestions on what their small town office could be doing better. She thought she knew best, but her education was no match for his good old fashion intuition.

He slowed the vehicle to a stop and pulled out a pocketknife. The tassel fell to the ground and disappeared into the darkness.

If she was so smart, then she should be able to fend for herself. There wasn't anything he could do for those kids tonight. All he would do now is risk getting himself killed and that wouldn't help anyone. Really, he was doing them all a favor. She could get a chance to hang out with some of her old peers. Meanwhile, he would be doing all the hard work, getting a crew together for the hunt and all. He would come back tomorrow with a few men and enough firepower to mow down an elephant. Hell, he knew a couple of guys who probably would be willing to pay for the privilege to hunt that monster.

The sheriff continued his journey through the field. The forest trail wasn't far from the rise ahead. The vehicle traveled up the slope, cresting the small hill. Ahead, the field was bathed in a turquoise glow.

Fire at Dusk: Part 24

The sheriff sat as motionless as the rock his back was wedged up against. His finger hovered above the trigger. He peeked out over the top of the rock and then ducked down again. The red glow had long since abated, but the creature could still be out there, waiting. He felt dizzy and weak from what he had witnessed earlier. There wasn't anything he could have done for Jimmy. That boy was already dead by the time he found him being tore apart by the beast. Even if he had shot at it, a creature that size would've just laughed off the bullets, then ate him for supper. The scene played over in his mind as though it was embedded on a small loop of celluloid which was set up to play forever. He had done the sensible thing and hid from the beast. The town could get by without Jimmy; that boy was hardly a productive member of society. Hell, maybe he did Jimmy a favor. It's not like the kid was going to amount to much anyway. On top of all that, how would the town make out with out their sheriff, especially after all these tragic deaths? Dammit, he had a job to do and sometimes hard decisions were part of that. He had made the right call.

What would the townsfolk think of him if the found out what happened? They would all call him a coward... The sheriff shook his head. No, no one else had to know. It's not like there were any witnesses. History was his to write. He went to use the bathroom and by the time he had gotten back, Jimmy had been dragged off by the creature. He had heard the cries for help, but the poor lad was gone by the time he had gotten there. That was all anyone needed to know about Jimmy's death.

The sheriff stood up. Both of his keeps popped in protest. He strained his eyes in the darkness, but he could see no signs of the monster. He contemplated using the flashlight to help him escape the forest, but thought better of it. Its beam might draw unnecessary attention to his location.

After a couple of minutes, the sheriff stepped foot into the field. A shiver went down his spine as he spotted the outline of the four-wheeler. He took a step toward it. In the dark he couldn't tell if the vehicle was still in working order. If he was going to make his escape, then he would need a closer look. The sheriff took a deep breath and turned on his flashlight. The vehicle was covered in thick, red blood. Its frame was badly crushed and it had two flat tires on one side. He walked around to the back of the vehicle. Jimmy's arm dangled from the handcuff.

The sheriff quickly snapped off the light and stumbled backward, away from the mess. There was no way he was going to get home on that thing. What could he do now? He was a sitting duck out here in the middle of the field and the forest wasn't going to afford him any better protection. His best hope for survival was to get back to the cabin.

The sheriff cringed at the thought of being trapped in the cabin with that beast floating around. Maybe he could make this work out in his favor. If that poor sweet thing, Jessie, had finally calmed down, then perhaps he could persuade her to help him out with a few of his needs. She had been nothing but a cold hearted bitch to him the entire night, but maybe now that Dick was out of the picture she would sing a different song.

The sheriff began his journey back to the cabin. He was not used to this much walking, always opting to drive to his destination. His legs grew tired and a sharp, throbbing stitch formed in his side. His conscience dogged at him and he continually pushed back against its judgments with cold rationalizations.

After several minutes, the dim cabin lights came into view. He forced his legs to move faster, but grew tired and quickly fell back into his old gait. At last he arrived at the cabin. His heart skipped a beat when he saw it. The deputy's four-wheeler was still sitting where it had been when he left earlier. The sheriff peered into the windows of the cabin, but saw no sign of the deputy.

“Smith! You around?” The sheriff called out, in a volume which was only slightly louder than his normal talking voice. “I'm going to take the four-wheeler back to the station if you don't mind!”

The sheriff waited for a moment but heard no response.

“Well, looks like it's all mine.”

The sheriff dug out his key chain and located the spare for her four-wheeler. He sat down onto the vehicle and put the key into the ignition. The vehicle started immediately. A huge wave of relief washed over him. This nightmare would soon be over.

Fire at Dusk: Part 23

“Y'all look mighty tore up,” said Deputy Smith.

Shirley Sue grabbed a hold of a long straight object wrapped in a handkerchief which was wedged between her belt and shorts. She handed the parcel to the deputy. Deputy Smith tilted her head to the side as she unraveled the cloth. The mother-of-pearl claw shimmered in the flashlight beam. Green crusty streaks dotted its surface. The deputy's eyes narrowed and her brow became a collection of deep lines as she looked over the object. “Where did this come from?”

“You probably won't believe us, but there's something out there. A huge glowing monster, and this is one of its claws,” said Buck.

The deputy let out a low whistle as she held the claw to her forearm. It ran from her elbow to the tip of her pointer finger.

“It almost got us, but Shirley Sue stabbed it with its own claw and set it runnin' away with its tail between its legs,” he continued.

“We were heading back to the cabin to warn everyone about it,” added Shirley Sue.

Deputy Smith looked from Buck to Shirley Sue. “I hate to tell you this...” she trailed off. She hesitated for several seconds which seemed to stretch out for years. “The monster visited the cabin and drug Dick off. At least that's what Jim told us. I was out here looking for Dick's body.”

“Oh,” said Buck. Shirley Sue gasped as she cupped her hand over her mouth. Their eyes widened as shock from the news set in.

“We're too late then,” said Buck in a flat tone.

A thick uncomfortable silence fell over the group. “Any sign of Mike?” asked Deputy Smith.

The color drained from Shirley Sue's face. She looked to Buck, her eyebrows raised. He nodded.

Shirley Sue swallowed. “Yeah, we found him at the old mill, before we were chased off by the monster.”

“Is he alright? Did he get away from the monster?”

“I think you better see this for yourself.”

Fire at Dusk: Part 22

Deputy Smith mounted the four-wheeler and started the vehicle. She looked down at the gas gauge and noticed that the needle was hovering just above empty.

“Really?” she muttered, switching off the vehicle. As much as she had wanted to blame the near empty tank on the sheriff, she knew that it was as much her fault as it was his. He did say he would take care of filling them up last week after he and she had used them to check up on a group of tourists who had lost one of their members on their camping trip. Since then the vehicles had been sitting idle with plenty of opportunity for refueling. Had she thought to check before they left the station, she could have filled up with one of the spare tanks. Now if she wanted to have enough gas to make it back to the station, then she would have to conduct her search by foot. She didn't like the idea of wandering around in the dark with whatever was out there, but she had no other choice.

Deputy Smith set out on foot looking for clues to where Dick might have been dragged off to. She searched the grass surrounding the cabin for signs of a struggle. As she directed her beam along the ground, it passed through what looked like rusty spots on the grass. Deputy Smith snapped a glove on her hand and touched one of the spots. She rubbed the thick red liquid between her fingertips. Blood. In addition to the blood, she also noticed a flattened trail of grass where it looked as though something had been dragged through it. She began following the trail, which headed in the direction of the nearby woods.

As she walked along the trail, she noticed two lights bobbing in the distance. She froze, instinctively placing her hand on her pistol. The lights grew larger and the rate of the bobbing increased. The figures behind the orbs of light began to take shape. Shirley Sue and Buck ran into the deputy's view. The pair were out of breath, their clothing was tattered, and their faces were smeared with dirt.

“Thank god it's you!” shouted Buck.

Fire at Dusk: Part 21

Deputy Smith had spent the better part of the last twenty minutes or so consoling Jessie. Jessie finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell asleep clutching a small, heart-shaped pendant that Dick had given her. Once she was sure Jessie was out, the deputy cautiously stood up and crept out the bedroom door.

She looked around the living room, expecting to see the sheriff, but Roger was the only one there.

“Where's the sheriff and Jim?” she whispered to Roger.

Roger chewed on his lip. “The sheriff took Jim down to the station.”

“The station?” Deputy Smith frowned deeply and glared in Roger's direction.

“Yeah, he... wasn't convinced that an animal killed Dick.”

“We haven't even-” Deputy Smith paused to collect herself. Two people were dead and somehow the sheriff was positive that Jim was the killer, even though the evidence she had presented him with pointed to animal involvement. She felt a twinge of anger well up inside of her as she thought about how bullheaded the sheriff was being on this. She was used to his bluster, but his behavior tonight went beyond that. He had crossed the line into reckless.

“I'm startin' to get worried about Buck and Shirley Sue,” Roger said, breaking Deputy Smith out of her thoughts. “I'm going to go look for them if it's all the same to you.”

Deputy Smith sighed “I know you're worried about them, but I need you to hold fast here with Jessie. She's not in the right state of mind to be left alone. I'll go find them while I'm out looking for Dick's body.”

“Okay,” he replied after a moment's hesitation, and then nodded at the deputy. “If yer going out there you should take the shotgun with ya. I'll hold down the fort with one of the others we've got here.”

“Thanks.”

The deputy slung the shotgun over her shoulder and grabbed a box of shells. She took a few steps toward the door. Butterflies welled up inside of her as the uncertainty of what she would face out there gnawed away at her fortitude. She grabbed the doorknob and opened the door. Light spilled over the stairs into the darkness.

“Oh and Roger,” she said, looking back at him with a half smile. “Take care of yourself.”

“You too deputy.”

Deputy Smith exhaled as she closed the door behind her. Her fingers brushed against the frame of the door, driving a splinter into her middle finger.

“Dammit,” she cursed under her breath. How much worse could the night get?

Fire at Dusk: Part 20

Sheriff Bradford watched Jimmy shuffle his way to the four-wheeler. Jimmy's head was bowed and his eyes were focused on his feet as he walked.

It was such a shame seeing a boy he had known since he was knee high to a grasshopper grow up to be a killer, but the sheriff had to admit that he had known that it would only be a matter of time before Jimmy snapped. The kid's father had turned into the town's drunk after his mother passed away under questionable circumstances. This sort of situation would mess up any kid, but especially one like Jimmy.

The sheriff had kept a close eye on Jimmy ever since he started dating Priscilla, the mayor's daughter. What she saw in Jimmy was a complete mystery to him. Jimmy was always out here at the camp hunting and trapping. A mighty fine girl like her deserved a man with a steady job and a good head on his shoulders, not a boy who was only good for doing odd jobs around the town. He had known Jimmy would slip up one day. Now maybe she could find a more worthy suitor.

The sheriff stumbled over a large rock on the ground. Jimmy cracked a smile when he looked back at the sheriff and stifled a laugh. The sheriff's face grew red and he smacked Jimmy across the back of his head.

“Get on boy, we've got a long ride ahead of us,” he growled at Jimmy. After Jimmy mounted, he climbed onto the vehicle himself. He took a gulp of the beer he was holding and then shoved the key into the ignition and drove off. The bumps and craters along the way jostled his bladder. By the time he reached the edge of the forest, he knew that it was time to 'break the seal.'

The sheriff slowed the vehicle to a halt and felt Jimmy bump up against him.

“I need to go and empty the tank,” the sheriff said as he dismounted the four-wheeler. He quickly finished off the beer he was holding and discarded the can into the grass. After he traveled a few feet, he stopped and turned back toward Jimmy. “Oh and don't go anywhere.” He clamped down one end of a pair of handcuffs over Jimmy's wrist and attached the other cuff to a bar on the vehicle.

As the sheriff entered the woods, he glanced back at Jimmy, but all he saw was the red glow of Jimmy's cigarette hovering in the inky darkness. The sheriff shook his head and stumbled into the forest. As he was relieving himself, he heard something moving through the woods. He swiveled his head and strained his eyes, but couldn't see anything. He felt something warm on his foot and turned his attention back to the task at hand. He discovered that he had missed his mark and urinated on his foot and leg.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath. He finished up and shook out his foot and pant leg. In his inebriated state, he forgot about how dark it was and he was sure that if he went back now, the lad would mock him. There was nothing the sheriff hated more then being mocked. He could hear it now, “Hey sheriff, looks like you need to work on your target practice.” Jimmy's mocking laugh and cruel tone echoed through his head. The sheriff's eyebrows pointed into a heavy 'v' and he clenched his jaw. He had to do something about this and it needed to be quick.

He looked frantically around for something to sop up the mess he made. He grabbed a handful of leaves and attempted to wipe down his pant leg, a task which only seemed to exacerbate the situation. He now had a long dark brown streak and ground in leaves in addition to the urine on his light colored trousers. He picked up the flashlight off the ground and headed deeper into the woods, in search of something to aid him.

The snap of branches caught his attention. He looked around, shining his flashlight around the woods, but observed nothing out of the ordinary. He slowly turned back around, resting his hand on the holster at his side. Another minute passed, but his search proved fruitless.

“Holy shit! Help!” Jimmy's exclamation echoed through the forest. The sheriff pulled his gun from its holster and stumbled through the woods back toward the vehicle. Jimmy's frantic cries grew louder and then came horrific shrieks of pain. The sheriff reached the edge of the forest and saw it. His veins turned to ice, the hair on the back of his neck stood straight up, and his knees began to knock against each other. He stood at the forest's edge, frozen with terror as he watched the beast tear into Jimmy. The creature was larger than anything he had ever seen and it illuminated the area with a crimson light. The sheriff put a hand over his mouth when he heard the snapping noise of Jimmy's arm as the creature's massive jaws clamped down on it. Jimmy's wails of anguish filled the air. Jimmy twisted and writhed trying to free himself from the beast. His head twisted and fell in the direction of the sheriff. Their eyes connected and Jimmy stretched out his remaining arm toward the sheriff, his fingers spread out and dripping with blood.

“Please help me!” he cried.

The sheriff took a step backwards and bumped into a tree. After a few moments he managed to finally tear his eyes away from the Jimmy and the monster. Amongst the shadows he could make out the outline of a large boulder. He stumbled his way to the rock and took up refuge behind it. After a few moments Jimmy's screams died down and the night was silent.

Fire at Dusk: Part 19

After some persuading, Jim finally set the shotgun onto the ground beside the chair he was sitting in. The blood began to flow back into his knuckles restoring some of the color to them.

“Alright Jim,” said the sheriff. “Why don't you tell us what happened.”

Jim sighed and reached into his pocket for a smoke. His hands shook as he grasped the cigarette and placed it to his mouth. He lit it and took a long drag.

“Well... There I was watchin' TV when Dick woke up. He started clamorin' for you Jessie.” Jim said looking over to Jessie. His eyes were met with Jessie's cold, cracked eyes. He redirected his gaze to his hand which rested on his leg, the smoke from the cigarette twisting its way toward the ceiling. “So I tells him yer out with the sheriff and deputy cause, uh, of well you know, Parker. Next thing I know he's pacin' around and drivin' me up a wall. I's like 'Dick, chill out man', and he tells me he can't find his weed,” Jim paused to take another long drag off his cigarette. Ash formed at the end of the cigarette as the cherry crawled its way up toward the filter.

“So I tells him you took his pot, sheriff. Well he gets all pissy that I didn't stop you and storms outta the cabin,” Jim said turning his head in the direction of the sheriff.

“The next thing I know hes yellin' like a maniac, real crazy shit like 'Oh god it's got me!'. So I go and grab the gun. I come runnin' out here and see somethin' out the front door. I didn't get a good look at it, but it was huge. I think... I think it was glowin'. Next thing I know the gun goes off tearing that hole in the frame,” Jim pointed at the front door, the cigarette clasped between his pointer and middle fingers. “That creature... it looks me straight in the eyes I turn off the light and dive behind the corner to reload.” Jim rubbed out the the stub of the cigarette in the ashtray, then proceeded to pull out another and light it. There was complete silence as he took several more drags off of it.

“What happened next Jim?” said Deputy Smith.

Jim hung his head, gazing his feet. “I just sat there... I... I couldn't move.”

Jessie sprang to her feet and slapped Jim across the face, “You let him die! How could you just- sit and let him die!” As she took another swing at him, the deputy grabbed a hold of her and dragged her to another room. Jessie's screams morphed into sobs as the door closed behind them.

Jim sat on the couch, his head bowed. The room was silent except for the sound of the sheriff's shoes as he paced across the floor.

“Boy you've either lost your mind or you think I'm stupid,” scoffed the sheriff. “I don't know what yer tryin' to pull here, but there ain't no glowing creatures out there gobblin' up yer friends like a Sunday mornin' buffet.”

Jim looked up at the sheriff, mouth agape.

The sheriff looked at Roger. “Tell the deputy after she gets your friend calmed down that I'm bringing Jimmy here down to the station,” The sheriff picked up his beer then grabbed Jim by the collar and dragged him to his feet and pushed him out the door. “We ain't had nobody murdered in two years, and you somehow managed to knock off two in one night.” The door slammed shut behind the sheriff.

Fire at Dusk: Part 18

The trip back to the cabin seemed to play in slow motion as Jessie hung tightly to the deputy's waist. The swerving of the other vehicle barley registered in her mind as she fretted about the trouble Richard might get himself into. He had a tendency to pull pranks without regard to the potential fallout. She could see it now, he would sneak out of the house and rattle the windows, scrape at the doors, and make wild animal noises, working Jim into a frenzy. Jim would come racing out of the cabin with his gun and... No, there was nothing to be concerned about; Richard was just fine. The boys were just out for a little midnight target practice. She would get there and the two of them would be drunk off their asses and laughing up a storm. But if that was the case, then why did the gunshots stop so abruptly? Each time she was able to squelch the influx of worry, a new train of thought wormed its way to the forefront of her mind.

At long last the headlights of the four-wheeler illuminated the path to the cabin. Her heart sank as she noticed that the cabin looked dark and vacant. The vehicles slowed to a stop and the crew dismounted. Jessie watched as the deputy and sheriff drew their guns from their holsters and proceeded to circle around to the front. She and Roger crept behind them, maintaining a distance of several feet. As she rounded the corner she saw in the sheriff's flashlight beam the open door. The left side of the frame was badly splintered, with chunks of wood hanging off.

“This is Sheriff Bradford and Deputy Smith. Is there anyone in there?”

Several moments ticked away as the silence knotted Jessie's stomach and fanned the flames of dread which washed over her.

“I tried to stop him but...” a quivering voice called back. “Ya'll better get in here lickety split before it gets back...” The voice trailed off and went silent.

“That sounds like Jimmy. What the hell is that boy goin' on about?” said the sheriff.

Jessie watched as the sheriff, deputy, and Roger trudged up the stairs and walked through the open door. She stood frozen in the darkness, the words of Jim replaying through her head. She felt dizzy as her worst fears swirled through her mind. Light spilled through the cabin's doorway. A moment later, she felt a hand on her shoulder. She looked and saw Deputy Smith, who guided her into the cabin.

Fire at Dusk: Part 17

Roger kept his distance from the deputy as she executed her investigation. He saw the occasional camera flash reflect off of the trees as she set about the grim task of documenting his friend's death. Earlier he had made the mistake of watching her while she performed her duty. One of the flashes of light seared into his eyes the image of Parker, the splintered branch gutting through his bloodied chest. For several minutes afterward, each blink painted anew the horrific image of his pal's limp, dangling body.

In between flashes, he glanced over at Jessie. She sat with her back leaning against the tree Parker's body hung from, staring into the forest's canopy. He had attempted to sit beside her and talk, but the thought of how close he was to the body made his stomach churn. Likewise, Jessie had made two separate attempts to join him in pacing the perimeter. However, each time she distanced herself from the hanging body, the sheriff approached them and interrupted their discussion to engage her chest in conversation.

Roger reflected on how quickly the sheriff dismissed his testimony of the screech he and Buck had heard in the forest earlier and the subsequent vision of the glowing creature. The sheriff laughed at him and told him that, “If the boogeyman drops by, then I'll put a bullet in his eye!” The sheriff punctuated the sentence with a hardy laugh then proceeded to pat himself on the back for his clever use of rhyme.

Roger knew it sounded ridiculous, but that was what he had seen, wasn't it? He tried focusing and recalling what he had witnessed, but all he could remember now was a faint glow, its dreamlike outline masked behind a forest full of trees. Maybe his friends were right. He had not gotten a close look at it, so perhaps he and Buck just saw the reflection of the sunset. The frantic cries of Buck telling him to “Go!” echoed through his mind. Buck's wide eyes, placid complexion, and his increased speed had spread to Roger like a contagion. The sunset couldn't have caused that feeling of unease that shook him to the core of his being. There was something very wrong happening in these woods.

Roger's thoughts shifted to Buck. He wondered if his brother and Shirley Sue had made it back to the cabin yet. Roger chuckled at Buck's recent infatuation with their childhood friend. Roger had a hard time even thinking of her as anything but one of the guys. He remembered how he had nearly spit out his drink when Buck confessed his affections for her, thinking that his brother was pulling on his chain.

The sound of Deputy Smith's voice shattered Roger's reflections. “Sheriff, I think we're all set!”

“Excellent work, Smith,” the sheriff called back. “Let me finish up over here and we'll be ready to head on out.” The sheriff proceeded to scan his flashlight around the roots of a few more trees before announcing that he too was finished with his investigation.

Roger walked beside Jessie in silence as the sheriff and deputy led the way back to the vehicles. He strained his ears to try and hear what Deputy Smith was telling the sheriff, but she kept her voice hardly above a whisper as she spoke. They were nearing the forest edge when the sound of gunfire echoed from the direction of the cabin.

Fire at Dusk: Part 16

“Do you suppose it is gone?” spoke Shirley Sue, shaking Buck from his thoughts.

“I reckon so...” said Buck. He had attempted to sound confident, but his voice betrayed him with a crack.

Shirley Sue giggled and squeezed him. “I think you're right.”

“I'll go check,” he said squeezing her back.

“I'm going with you!” she said untangling herself from him. Buck heard the sound of something scraping along the floor of the cave, which could only be made by the long nail which had been resting at his partner's side.

Shirley Sue sprang ahead of Buck and scurried out ahead of him. He crawled to the entrance of the cave and looked around the area. A breeze buffeted against his face filling his nostrils with the smell of pine. The only source of light was the pale moon shining down. It's glow twisted the forest into tall monsters with long fingers. Buck heard the sound of a twig snapping followed by a rustling. His hair stood on end as he froze in place. He listened for a moment, but when no further sound came, he slipped through the cavern's opening. A beam of light blinded him.

“Hey!” he said shielding his eyes. “Watch where you're pointing that thing.”

“Oops!” she said directing the beam away from his face. “Buck, there's blood on your leg.”

Buck turned on his flashlight and examined his leg. A long thin scratch caked in blood ran along his calf. The wound began to throb as he became aware of it.

“Geeze, I guess I got really lucky there,” he said with a nervous laugh. He noticed a few large green spots which lead away from the cave. “Luckier then that monster,”he said, pointing at the trail.

The pair performed a cursory search of the area for signs of the beast, but much to their relief they found no indication of its presence.

“We need to go back and warn the others,” said Shirley Sue.

“What about the woman in the mill?” asked Buck.

The color drained from Shirley Sue's face. She turned and faced the direction they had come from.

“It's probably too late for her...” she trailed off. “Hopefully we still have a chance of saving our friends.”

Fire at Dusk: Part 15

In spite of the cavern's hard walls, Buck felt comfortable. He was unsure of how long he and Shirley Sue had sat there cloaked in darkness. The smell of dirt and moss filled each of his breaths, the only movement he dared make so as not to disturb his companion, whose head lay gently on his chest. His arm was wrapped around her holding her closely to him. Her breaths were slow and deep, her warm breath caressing his arm. Had she managed to drift off to sleep, knowing that the beast could be waiting to besiege them once more? He considered asking, but he feared that speaking would either summon the creature back to their alcove or it would break the cozy trance they had slipped into.

An owl inquired “Who?” in the distance. The noise caught his attention and he gazed out through the opening. He squinted his eyes, but could not make out any familiar landmarks from his vantage, and wondered how Shirley Sue had discovered their fortification. He had explored the area near the mill as a child of course, though he had never come across a cavern like this. His eyes were drawn back to the entrance of the cavern. The pale moonlight ventured only a foot or so inside, illuminating the combination of moss and ruble.

He recalled seeing the entryway crumble when the creature crashed into it. The scene of their last encounter played through his mind, the vision of Shirley Sue stabbing the beast with its own claw. The look of rage which twisted her face had been nearly as terrifying as the beast's, though it was not her ire which captivated him, but the long, straight nail which she had wielded. The pearl tones of the claw reflecting the red glow shimmered in his mind. Those once bright, opalescent hues now lay cloaked in the darkness of the cave. He recalled how, sitting in silence as he was now, he had jumped at the dull, almost metallic clattering noise it made as it hit the stone floor. He wanted to examine it, to discover what it was made of. He turned his head toward the direction from which he remembered hearing it fall. Was that a faint glow he saw, or were his eyes playing tricks on him?

Fire at Dusk: Part 14

Shirley Sue removed her fingers from her ears as the monster's shriek subsided. She and Buck had warded off the beast's previous attacks with the makeshift club and the assorted rocks which lay about the cave floor. She raked her hand through her hair. Sand and dozens of small pebbles fell out of her locks and clattered to the ground. They joined a cluster of other such pebbles, debris from when the creature's body slammed into the cave's entrance, rattling the rocky enclosure as though the beast had summoned an earthquake. She looked to the entrance of the cave and observed the shards of rock which lay scattered nearby. She was sure that if the monster did not stop soon, either the mouth of the cave would crumble away and allow the creature to reach them, or the cave would collapse onto them, neither option of which seemed particularly desirable. Her eyes moved to the floor of the cave. Three long, parallel grooves were carved into the solid stone. She remembered the blinding shower of sparks and shower of pebbles the beast created when it dug its claws into the hard rock as it withdrew its arm from the cave.

Her ears rang while she watched hopelessly as the creature's legs move in and out of her view. Anger and sadness welled up inside of her as happier memories of the cave rolled around in her thoughts. Her eyes were drawn to the pile of discarded tender green moss which once guarded the entrance. She remembered all the times she had crawled through it as a child. Now the moss sat collapsed at the entrance, trampled and worn. The red glow cascaded around the cave, casting indistinguishable shadows around the walls of the smooth cavern. The creature craned its neck, planting its face against the entrance of the hollow. It shrieked once more at the couple. The duo threw a few stones into the creature's face. The monster then pulled its head from view and paced out of their line of vision.

Moments later the sound of heavy paces falling in rapid succession shook the ground as the beast lunged itself once more at the cave. She froze and the hair on the back of her neck stood up as the creature stuffed one of its arms into the cave. Rubble spilled out from around where the beast had collided with the entrance. The cavern shook and small pebbles and stones fell from tiny cracks that began to form in the ceiling. She watched as one of the knife-like claws passed only centimeters away from her leg, which was tightly packed against her body. She felt the current of air created as it brushed by. The claws slashed down once again and this time caught at Buck's pant leg, easily tearing a long, straight hole down to the cuff. Buck's eyes, already wide with terror, grew to the size of baseballs.

The pair began to defend themselves once again in earnest. Shirley Sue watched as Buck smashed at the monster's arm with the club. It clattered first against the ceiling and then onto the beast's arm. She raised a large stone over her head and smashed it onto the creature's hand. The beast shrieked as a claw broke off. Without hesitation, she grabbed the broken claw. It felt heavier then she expected, as though it was made of steel. She drove it into the beast's arm. The creature wailed again and withdrew its arm. She looked out of the cave and saw it cradling its arm. It paced in front of the entrance for a little longer, the red glow subsiding, replaced with a melancholy yellow. After a time the color faded, leaving the duo in darkness.

Fire at Dusk: Part 13

“Alright, here's what we're gonna do,” announced the sheriff as he grabbed a fresh beer from the kitchen counter. “Since the four-wheelers ain't got enough room for the all of us, Roger and Jessie are coming along with me and the deputy. You and sleeping beauty over here get to stay behind.” The sheriff making eye contact with Jim while pointing at Dick with the baton.

As the party started shuffling out of the cabin, the sheriff paused in the doorway for a moment. He turned toward Jim and said, “Oh and try not to kill anyone while we're gone, Jim.”

The party walked over to the four-wheelers. The sheriff eyed Jessie and opened up his mouth to speak.

Deputy Smith cut in before he could speak, “Jessie, you're with me.”

Disappointment shaded the sheriff's eyes and he gawked at his deputy for a moment. She glared back at him and he shut his mouth.

“Roger you're coming with me,” the sheriff said. “Alright folks, let's roll out.”

With that, the crew set out on the four-wheelers across the field. Jessie hung tightly around the deputy's waist, glad she had been able to pair off with her. She glanced over at the other vehicle and saw the sheriff gripped his beer in one hand while steering with the other. On the short trip over, he would take an occasional gulp from the can. This would cause the sheriff to swerve dangerously close to their vehicle. The deputy adeptly steered their vehicle out the the way, clearly practiced in this situation.

The headlights of the four-wheelers illuminated the forest line and the two vehicles slowed to a halt. Jessie watched as the sheriff's abrupt stop nearly sent Roger flying from his seat. The travelers dismounted their vehicles and stepped into the grassy field. Jessie walked over to Roger and thought he looked a little green in the moonlight.

The sheriff drained the can he was holding and tossed it casually to the ground. “Lead the way,” he said, looking at the pair.

Jessie racked her brain as she scoured the area, searching for any familiar landmarks. “I think that's the bush we found Richard in,” she said as she pointed at a bush in the distance.

The party walked over to the bush. After a few moments of scanning the area they caught a glimpse of a large, egg-shaped bolder which led them directly to Parker's body.

“Sweet Jesus,” said the sheriff with a low whistle. “Well, he sure looks dead.”

Jessie watched as Deputy Smith walked over to the body and set up a small plastic toolbox. The deputy then began shining her flashlight across the body. A few moments later, she pulled pair of latex gloves from the toolbox and snapped them on her hands.

“Okay Smith, you take care of the body and I'll look around fer some evidence,” said the sheriff keeping his distance from the body.

Jessie hung close to the deputy as she watched the sheriff pace around the area. He reminded her of a chicken pecking at the ground as he wandered around the area hunched over, pointing his flashlight at the various tree roots and branches. She knew he was trying to look serious with his eyebrows furrowed and the tip of his tongue sticking out of the side of his mouth, but she though he looked more like someone who was trying to pass a kidney stone.

“Sheriff, come take a look at this,” said Deputy Smith.

The sheriff straighted and slowly approached the body.

“Check out the claw marks and puncture wounds here”, she said as she pointed to some tears in Parker's pant legs and shirt. “Also look at this,” she said, pulling off a small clump of black fur which she neatly placed in a plastic bag. “This clearly looks like the work of some kind of animal.”

“There's no way an animal put him up in a tree like that,” scoffed the sheriff. “Why I would bet-” The sheriff was cut off as the sound of a blood curdling wail which echoed distantly through the forest.

Fire at Dusk: Part 12

The barley audible rumble of an engine passed through the cabin's walls. It grew progressively louder and then stopped. Moments later, three whacks echoed against the door. Roger opened the door and ushered the two figures inside.

“Evening Sheriff Bradford,” he said as the first of the figures entered the cabin.

“Evening,” the sheriff replied as he removed his hat and cupped it over his bulging midsection. He drummed on his leg with hist nightstick as he walked.

“Evening Sarah,” said Roger. The woman cleared her throat and glared at Roger as she passed by him. “Er... deputy Smith.”

“Evening,” she greeted and then winked at him.

The sheriff peered around the house as he wandered into the adjacent kitchen area. He reached for a can of beer sitting on the counter and popped the top, then took a swig. A few drops of beer clung to his mustache. After helping himself to a handful of chips he sauntered back to the living room and faced the crowd.

“Looks like you kids have been drinkin'. Celebratin' the big game eh?” inquired the sheriff.

“Yes sir,” replied Jim.

The sheriff paced around the living room. He stood beside Dick who lay passed out on the couch, and poked at an ashtray with the nightstick. “Seems you've been doing a bit more than drinking too. Say Jimmy, ain't you got yerself a bit of a temper? 'Specially when you've been drinking? I heard you and Parker weren't on such good terms lately. The way I see it, maybe you two got into a scuffle and it didn't end so well fer him. Maybe what happened to Parker was all just one giant misunderstanding.”

“It's not like that,” interjected Jessie. “That tree branch was sticking clean through his chest! There's no way any one of us could have done that.”

“Little lady,” said the sheriff as he turned toward Jessie, ogling her chest. “I'll be the judge of that.”

Fire at Dusk: Part 11

Buck swung the makeshift club into the beast's face and dove out of its path, narrowly avoiding its razor sharp fangs. The monster smashed into the same tree which Buck had fallen into only moments before. The boughs shook and a small torrent of leaves rained down on Buck's head. The fiend turned to face him, seemingly unphased by either the bash to the face or the collision with the tree. It extended its claws from a hand-like appendage which had three long thick digits. It's foot and a half long claws shimmered like mother-of-pearl, bathed in the creature's red glow. It raised one of its massive hairy arms over its head with its claws spread in a 'W' shape. Buck prepared to dodge and strike again. Suddenly, the beast's glow shifted to yellow and it let forth a shriek as piercing as choir of banshees. Shirley Sue raced from behind the creature and grabbed Buck by the hand.

“This way!” she shouted.

The creature pawed furiously at the hilt of the hunting knife which protruded from its hip as the pair raced off toward a rocky hill. The duo quickly made their way to the top of the rise, an area devoid of the trees which covered the rest of the forest.

“Careful...” Shirley Sue whispered, the sound of her voice nearly muted by the noise of the beast crashing through the forest behind them. She illuminated a small drop-off with her flashlight and jumped into the small, rocky clearing which lay several feet below them. Buck followed closely behind her and made his way down the slope.

“In here!” she whispered as she grabbed a hold of him and and led him down into a cave which sat at the bottom of the rock face they had jumped from. She pushed aside ancient moss which obscured the entrance and crawled through the opening. The ground trembled and the air was filled with the sound of snapping foliage as the pair moved into the back of the cave. They turned to face the entrance. The cool damp rocks were a pleasant relief to Buck's aching bones. Shirley Sue turned off the flashlight and huddled closely to Buck. The heavy sounds of their breath echoed through the small cavern. Flashes of red light scattered around the cave as the beast tumbled, crashing loudly into the area near the entrance of the cave.

Fire at Dusk: Part 10

Shirley Sue and Buck sat frozen in terror for what seemed an eternity. The creature stared back at them and tilted its fanged head to one side. It snorted from a black nose which protruded from the middle of its wrinkled, flat face and a cloud of smoke danced upward from it through beast's natural illumination. The mesmerizing glow which surrounded the creature oscillated between various shades of green and blue. It had a long tail with alternating light and dark stripes which twitched back and forth in rhythm with its pointed ears. The duo snapped out of their trance, cautiously collected their flashlights and rose to their feet. They then began edging backwards, away from the creature. After a few more moments of observing the pair, a large grin formed on the monster's face revealing, a maw of razor sharp teeth.

“Maybe it'll leave us alone,” whispered Buck.

The color of the beast shifted to crimson and bathed the mill and the clearing surrounding it in a menacing red glow. The abomination then began to stalk toward the duo.

“I reckon that ain't its intention,” whispered Shirley Sue.

With that, the pair took off into the woods. They could hear the creature behind them, crashing through the undergrowth. The duo darted through the trees. Shirley Sue's movements were smooth and fluid compared to those of Buck, who stumbled over the fallen branches and hanging limbs. The massive beast tilted trees as it squeezed a path through the densely packed forest, its agility and speed more then making up for this disadvantage. The light from the fiend began to intensify and the pair's lead shrank. The sound of its huffing and movements grew louder as it gained on the duo. Exhausted, Buck slipped on a loose branch which he had tried jumping over. He fell and rolled across the ground, slamming into a tree. Shirley Sue stopped and turned around to help him.

“Save yourself! Warn the others about this thing!” Buck shouted as he grabbed a hold of a large club-shaped branch. As he scrambled to his feet, the beast closed in on him.

Fire at Dusk: Part 9

“You did this to my brother, you and yer boyfriend! We should've gotten rid of you when we had the chance ya filthy hag!” shouted Mike. The sound of skin clapping against skin echoed through the nearby shattered window, its thin glass shards resembling a mouth full of jagged teeth. “I'm gonna make you suffer fer what you did ta him!”

“It is not I who will suffer but instead you. You, your friends and family will all suffer until you have met the same fate as he!” a feminine voice shouted back, her words followed by the sound of her spitting. The mill shuddered as though a heavy wind had just battered it.

“Just you wait dearie fer when I get back from upstairs, then we'll see who really suffers,” Mike said a cold flat tone in his voice. The sound of heavy boots clumping against the floor echoed through the night.

“What the hell is goin' on?” whispered Buck to Shirley Sue.

“I don't know, but I've got a bad feeling about this,” whispered Shirley Sue. “Let's try and get a closer look. Lift me up so I can see in the window.”

Buck crouched down and Shirley Sue mounted his shoulders. His heart fluttered as her hands came to rest on his. He stood up and approached the window. The pale moonlight illuminated the floor of the mill as Shirley Sue strained her eyes to see what was going on. She had set her flashlight on the ground, not realizing that she might need it to see what was happening inside of the building. As her eyes adjusted to the pale light she let out a gasp.

“Oh my-” her whisper was cut off by the sound of an inhuman shriek. The noise caught Buck off guard and he turned to face the noise. His sudden motion tilted Shirley Sue to one side and he lost his balance. The duo collapsed in to a heap on the ground. They quickly collected themselves and looked in the direction from which the noise had come. In the distance at the tree line a glowing creature stood, its head pulled back, as it let fourth letting fourth a second harrowing shriek. It lowered itself down onto its fists and looked directly at Shirley Sue and Buck.

Fire at Dusk: Part 8

Buck and Shirley Sue set out following the glimmer of soft yellow light across a part of the meadow which had rarely been traversed by either of the duo. The clear night sky revealed a spectacular view, clusters of stars delicately balanced in the heavens. The peacefulness of the night was in direct opposition to the feeling of dread which filled the hollow of Buck's stomach. He looked at Shirley Sue. The soft glow of the the waxing crescent moon turned her hair to a gentle silver hue and revealing the soft curves of her face. His heart fluttered for a moment as the beauty of her profile was burned into his mind. His dread was washed away by a serenity he hadn't experienced before.

The two traveled in silence until they reached the forest's edge. A large moss covered boulder sat adjacent to a muddy trail, parts of which were obscured by fallen trees and forest debris. Buck shined his flashlight along the path and observed sets of boot-shaped puddles which traveled down the length of the path, focusing on a recent set which appeared to still be filling up with the muddy water.

“Huh, it looks like he's gone off to the old mill,” said Shirley Sue.

“Why do you reckon he's gone out that way...” Buck trailed off.

“There's only one way to find out,” Shirley Sue asserted as she stepped into the mud, her boots creating fresh silhouettes in the watery earth.

The two travelers sloshed along the swampy path, swishing away swarms of mosquitoes with their free hands. They caught sight of the occasional footprint, but the light of Mike's flashlight had disappeared, obscured by the thick forest. After a while the path began to slope upward and the mud gave way to firm ground.

“We're almost there,” said Shirley Sue.

They continued walking up the path, both relieved from the uneventful nature of their journey. They reached the end of the path and saw the large abandoned mill spread out directly before them. A foul oder hung in the air. The two approached the structure when they heard what sounded like angry shouting coming from inside.

Fire at Dusk: Part 7

The gang stood with their mouths agape, staring toward the door. After a moment of silence, Jessie announced to the room “I'm callin' the sheriff”.

She hurried into the kitchen and picked up the smooth, U-shaped black telephone. It slipped out of her shaking hands and clattered on the counter top she quickly recovered the receiver and began to dial. The pattern of clicks sounded off as she worked the dial on the phone's base.

“Should we go after him?” Shirley Sue said, looking in the direction of Buck and Roger.

“I'll go and find him,” Buck volunteered without considering what he even was saying.

Roger's eyes darted to Buck.

“Have ya lost yer ever lovin' mind? Parker's dead and fer all we know whatever did that to him is still out there. We ain't got any way of figurin' where Mike's run off ta. We should wait for the sheriff to get on out this way. He'll know what ta do,” Roger scolded.

“Maybe you're right Roger, but we just can't leave him out there on his own,” said Shirley Sue. “Come on Buck, well go round him up.”

The duo walked in tandem out the front door. “It's your funeral,” escaped through the doorframe as Buck closed the door, the knob making a clicking noise punctuating Roger's cry as it fastened tightly behind them.

The two began circling the cabin as they looked for signs of which direction Mike had set off in. The breeze from earlier had died down, the cool air only perturbed by the swarming fireflies which had accumulated around the cabin.

“Any idea where he might have gone off to?” questioned Buck.

“He could have gone any-” Shirley Sue stopped mid-sentence and pointed toward the treeline “Look over there!”

A yellow glow blinked into view once more, Mike was out there his flashlight signaling he presence in the distance.

Fire at Dusk: Part 6

The cabin door flew open and four bodies burst in from the darkness.

“It's about time y'all got back. I was beginnin' to think ya got yerselves eaten by Buck's glowin bear,” taunted Mike without tearing his eyes away from the television.

“Mike, Parker's been...” Roger trailed off.

Mike swiveled his head toward Roger. They briefly made eye contact as his friend averted his eyes, stairing into some distant abyss. A chill raced down Mike's spine as he stood.

“What about that fool brother of mine? He gotten himself into some kind of trouble?”

“We found him...” Roger started again. He took a deep breath and continued, “We found him gutted by a branch, hangin' from a tree.”

A steely look waxed over Mike's face. “No, yer shittin' with me. What the fuck kind of prank you tryin' to pull here?” Mike said, the volume of his voice rising as color rushed to his cheeks.

Before anyone had time to react, Mike was standing in front of Roger. Roger remained silent and continued to stare off into the distance.

“It's true,” Buck interjected. “We're so sorry man, we'll...”

“Like hell yer sorry!” Mike grabbed a hold of Roger's shirt with both hands. “Him and Dick put you up to this, didn't they?” He then thrust Roger backward into Dick and Jessie.

Roger regained his balance. His face grew red and for a second an icy glar flickered in his eyes, but then they softened again. “He's dead Mike. I don't know what happened to him, but he's dead.”

“Bullshit! Like hell he is!” Mike yelled as he pushed his way to the door. “I'mma gonna find that bastard!”

The door to the cabin slammed shut. A shudder vibrated through the building. The sound of Mike's voice could be heard echoing through the evening air.

Fire at Dusk: Part 5

Buck began approaching the bushes. He feet grew heavier as he drew closer to the suspect flora, as though the ground had turned to mud and was sucking his feet into the earth after each step. At around a distance of ten paces or so he heard what sounded like muffled crying. His blood froze at the sound, his brain trying to process the situation. However, before he could do anything else, the bush erupted into hearty laughter. The gears slowly started turning again in Bucks mind and he realized that Dick had been attempting to stifle his laughter the entire time.

Buck stomped the remainder of the distance to the bush and careened his flashlight into the foliage. Dick crouched, low to the ground intertwined with the bushes, his glazed eyes locked with Buck's. A shit eating grin was smeared across his face.

“What'n the hell are you doin' out here hindin' in the bushes Dick?” Buck shouted.

Dick stumbled out of the bushes and dusted himself off and clapped Buck on the back. “Take 'er easy bub, I ain't been here long. I wassh on my way back when I heard you folksh comin' and ducked here into these bushessh here. You sshould've sheen yershelvesh, you looked like you were bout ta pissh yershelf there Buck!” Dick punctuated the sentence with laughter and took a swig from the metal flash he grasped in on hand.

Jessie hurried over to Richard and grabbed his arm to steady him. “All right, let's mosey on back to the cabin and finish the game.”

The party began their trip back to the cabin. Dick stopped mid stride and began patting his chest and sides. He broke free of Jessie's grasp and bumbled back to the treeline cursing and mumbling something about his stash.

“Dammit, I guess we better go help him find it,” Buck grumbled.

The cool yellow beam of Buck's flashlight scanned the dense forest floor. His head turned to the ground, searching for his friend's baggy of choice contraband. His head bumped into something and he looked up. As his flashlight beam intersected with the object hanging from the tree, his jaw slackened and his eyes grew wide.

“Guys!” a panicked tone escaped his mouth as he backed away.

Fire at Dusk: Part 4

Jessie wandered in the direction of the forest, calling out for Richard every dozen steps or so. The night air was cool and a breeze caught hold of her hair and tossed it gently across her face, obscuring her vision with the long, straight locks. She pulled the strands away from her eyes and rubbed her bare arms, wishing that she had brought a light jacket with her. It was too late now to go back to the cabin. She knew if she returned without Richard, then Mike and Jim would rib her and claim she had turned 'yella' from the outlandish tale the brothers had drugged up from the forest. She dwelled on it briefly and the image of Richard being attacked by the ghostly creature wormed its way into her imagination. She squared her shoulders as she pushed the story out of her mind, standing straight up and assured herself that it was all just nonsense. She resumed her search with new resolve.

“Hey Jess! Wait up!”

She turned around and saw a pair of floating yellow orbs bobbing in the darkness. The dim glow intensified as the figures which carried them drew closer. Moments later Buck and Roger stepped into her flashlight beam.

Jessie greeted her new companions, “Aw, you two boys didn't need to come on out all this way to help me find Richard. You're gonna to miss the game.”

“After what me and Buck saw earlier, it didn't set right 'bout lettin' you wander 'round out here by yerself,” Roger replied. “'Sides, we reckon he can't be too far 'way.”

The trio moved toward the pitch black line of trees. They called out for their missing friend once more, yellow beams of light tracing the perimeter of the forest.

Buck whipped his attention toward a cluster of distant bushes and spoke in a hushed tone “Ja hear that?”

“Hear what?” Roger and Jessie whispered in unison.

“Dick?” Buck's voice squeaked as he called out for his friend. “That you?”

Fire at Dusk: Part 3

Jessie sat twirling her hair around her index finger, glancing at the door every couple of minuets as the various creaks and shutters of the old cabin being buffeted by the evening breeze reached her ears. Each time her heart fluttered with hope that Richard had finally returned, but he never appeared. She rose from her position on the couch and looked out the window, cupping her hand over her eyes to cut out the glare from the overhead light.

“I'm starting to get worried about Richard,” she said.

Mike sighed and said “Aw, come on Jess, he's a grown ass man. Why can't ya just let him alone a bit? Ya've been like a cat on a hot tin roof since the boys got back. 'Sides this is just like ol' Dick. Just last week he was out rasin' hell and I reckon thats where he's at now.”

“He's been carryin' on about the game all week. Something just ain't right,” Jessie shot back. “We've got to go and look for him!”

“Are you crazy? And miss the game? This is the best they've been doing all season,” Mike hollered back, waving his arms at the television. He sat in silence for a moment, but could feel the burn of Jessie's eyes on the back of his neck. He picked up a flashlight resting on the end-table and tossed it at her. “Look, if yer so worried about him, then maybe you should go and find him yerself.”

Jessie turned to the door as the group's attention returned to the game. “Maybe I will,” she said under her breath.

As she shut the front door behind her, she heard a muffled roar of hoots and cheers from indoors. The porch light flickered and she shivered from a chill in the air. She squinted into the darkness and called out for Richard a few times. Her ears strained for a reply, but only a lone owl called back with it own question. She took a deep breath, turned the flashlight on, and stepped into the darkness.

Fire at Dusk: Part 2

The roar of crashing timber followed closely behind the pair as they broke free from the twisting forest. Neither dared to glance backward as they sprint across the field. They tore through the meadow, up the pathway to the cabin and bolted through the door. There they stood, bent over and panting heavily, propped up by their hands anchored to their respective thighs.

Roger looked up and saw four figures gawking at him and Buck.

“We'll I'll be damned, looks like you two've just about gone to ghost,” said a tall heavy young man with a smoke hanging from his lower lip. “J'all find yerselves a bear or somethin'?”

“Y'all won't believe it, me and Buck were comin' back from the traps,” said Roger between pants, “when suddenly we hear a scream, and we see this glowin' body floatin' out in the middle the woods”.

“You fools been seein' things. I reckon ya'll been smoking somethin' funny and I fancy you worked yourselves up over a coyot screeamin.”

“I swear on my grandma's grave Jim, I ain't been in anything funny and that weren't no coyot howlin' off. 'Sides how you 'splain the glow?” Roger rebutted.

“I'd figure it was Dick,” chimed in a young woman standing by the couch. “We sent him out to find y'all when it started getting late. You know how he likes to horse around.”

“Shirley Sue's probably right. He'll probably burst through the door any minute laughing his ass off. Mike and Jessie just finished fixin' up some snacks fer the game if y'all want to sit down and get some grub in ya,” replied Jim.

The two brothers insisted a little more that their experience in the woods wasn't Dick. However, their protests were only met with ribbing from their peers. Soon their dissent melted into cheers as their team scored against their rival. The hour slipped away as the six friends sat around the television, but there was no sign of Dick.