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.