Bigfoot War (8 page)

Becca

Becca answered her cell. It was Cindy and she filled Becca in on what was happening at the department. Brent was in the background, yelling at people.

The big man’s voice was frantic. As she listened to Cindy ramble on, she made a priority list in her mind.

“
Okay,” she said, “tell Brent to calm down. Tell him he’s capable of handling the crowd and we’ll be there as soon as we can. Powell and I are heading to Harold’s Market right now.” The siren blared as the sheriff’s car sped through the streets. “As soon as we take care of the thing at Harold’s , we’ll be in, okay?”

Not giving Cindy a chance to answer, she flipped her cell closed.

“
We’re going to take care of the thing at the store, huh?” Powell said not taking his eyes from the road. Becca noticed he gripped the steering wheel hard. “Hate to say this, but there were nine of us this morning against one of those things. Three people died and Brent got hurt. Exactly what makes you think we can handle this thing alone?”

“
We have to. It’s our job. The thing’s on our turf now. That evens the playing field a lot.”

“
Don’t suppose you have a plan, do you?” he asked.

“
Shoot the bastard until he doesn’t move anymore,” she said curtly.

“
That’s not what I meant. There’s only three of us officers left. We can’t protect the whole town. If these creatures are . . . invading Babble Creek in force, we don’t have the manpower to be everywhere at once or the firepower to stop them.”

“
I know.” She sighed. “Let’s deal with this for the moment. I’ll come up with something.”

Powell glanced over at her. “We need help, Becca. It’s time to call in some. This mess has gotten too big.”

“
Look out!”

A creature like the one they’d killed ran up the road at them. The thing had to be doing forty-five miles an hour, easy. Powell swerved and avoided it. The patrol car spun out, whipping around as the beast passed them. The creature stopped and stood in the middle of the road as if trying to decide whether it should attack them or keep going. Powell was already out of the car. The creature sprang at them as it saw him. Its huge legs quickly closed the distance to the car before Becca could open her door. A large, hairy hand burst through the passenger side window and reached for her. She threw herself sideways, ducking, as she struggled to tear her Glock free from its holster. She knew how ineffective the weapon would be, but it was the only option she had right now.

Powell’s rifle cracked. The deputy had circled around behind it and got the drop on it. The fur-covered hand pulled out of the car. The monster roared as Powell fired again. The bullet smashed into the thing’s chest, punching a deep hole into it. Its body flew back onto the car’s roof with such force it caved in above her. She kicked with her feet, pushing herself out the open door on the driver’s side as the deputy’s rifle thundered again. A heavy thud came from the other side of the car. Becca flopped onto the road as Powell raced around the car to make sure she was okay. As soon as he did, he jumped in the air with joy and let out an excited whoop before he helped her up.

“
I nailed the thing,” he said through a smile of tobacco-stained teeth.

“
You sure?,” Becca said sarcastically. They walked around the car together. The creature’s body lay motionless, blood leaking from a gaping hole in its forehead. Another bloody hole was dead center in its chest. “I’m impressed,” she admitted.

Powell shrugged. “It was really luck.”

“
This one isn’t as big as the one from this morning.”

“
Still, it’s two for the good guys.” He laughed.

Becca allowed herself a grin before she became all business again. “We need to get back to the station. Only God knows how many more of these things there are.”

Justin

“
That’s weird, power going off before the storm,” Hank said.

Fred struck a match and lit the ancient kerosene lamp old Hank had fetched from somewhere in the bar’s backroom.

Justin watched the wick catch as the lamp sputtered to life. He didn’t drink like Fred did, but today he sure felt like he had earned one. To tell the truth, he needed it. Terry might not have been the best sort of friend, but no one deserved to die like that.

“
Yep, sure is odd,” Old Hank added. “If it was anyone but you boys I’d be closing up.”

“
Thanks, Hank,” Justin said. “We appreciate you staying.”

“
What happened at the Taylor place this morning? Heard it was something to do with a bear that gone bloodthirsty or something.”

“
Shoot no! It weren’t no bear!” Fred exclaimed before Justin could silence him.

Justin stood and grabbed Fred by the back of his neck. “We can’t really talk about it. You’ll have to ask Sheriff Becca if you want to know the details. Isn’t that right, Fred?”

“
Ow, man,” Fred said, rubbing his neck as Justin let go of him.

“
What I don’t understand is how your dogs didn’t get hurt? You’d think they would have went wild on the thing.”

“
Hank, please,” Justin said. “Drop it, okay?”

“
It’s my fault,” Fred said, voice beginning to slur from the booze. “I shouldn’t have left you guys.”

“
Guess I best get Fred home, Hank. I think he’s had enough.”

Hank nodded his goodbye and set about locking up the bar as Justin led Fred into the street.

“
What ya doin’, man? I’m fine,” Fred said.

“
Come on, buddy. Let me drive you home. I think we’ve seen too many people get hurt today already.” Justin shoved him into the passenger seat of his SUV. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

Brent

Brent paced nervously in Becca’s office. He’d sought sanctuary after he’d finally managed to get the crowd to disperse and head back home. He knew he wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed, but even he realized what was happening in Babble Creek was bad, real bad. He very much wanted to radio Macon County’s department and call in reinforcements, but that was Becca’s decision to make not his and he didn’t want to overstep his bounds. She’d said they had to deal with this on their own, and if Brent was anything, he was loyal.

Cindy poked her head into the office. “Brent, Rita’s on the phone. She sounds upset and asked to speak to you.”

“
Transfer it here.” Brent plopped into Becca’s chair and picked up the phone when the line lit up. He knew at once the call wasn’t good news.

“
Brent, there’s something in the woods behind my house,” was all Rita had to say before he took charge of the situation.

“
I want you stay right where you are. Don’t light any candles. Keep the house dark and be as quiet as you can. I’m coming.” He sprinted from the office. When he passed Cindy on the way, he said, “Tell Becca I’ve gone to Rita’s when she gets here.” Outside, he slid into his car and turned on the sirens. He peeled out and the car screeched as it shot onto the main road. He glanced at the shotgun laying on the passenger’s seat beside him, and knew it was next to worthless if his hunch about what he’d be facing played out. It didn’t matter. Rita was all that mattered and he would rather die before he let anything happen to her.

The radio crackled as Becca’s voice filled the vehicle. “Brent, this is Sheriff May. Cindy told me what you’re doing. I am sorry, but I’m ordering you to turn around right now. We need you here.”

Brent left the radio where it was, ignoring her. It tore him up inside, but some things mattered more than even his job and his duty. He reached over and turned the radio completely off, pushing the gas down harder as the patrol car blazed its way through Babble Creek.

He left the siren on as he pulled into the drive beside Rita’s house. He doubted it would scare off anything that lurked in the trees, but he could hope that it might anyway. Rita’s door flew open and she came running onto the front porch to meet him.

Brent stepped from the car with the shotgun held tightly in his hands. “Get in the car,” he shouted. An inhuman growl cut the night as a giant hairy beast came charging from the trees right toward him. Brent fired on it. Blood flew from the creature’s left leg where the shot nailed its fur and flesh, but the wound did nothing to slow it down. The big man pumped another round into the shotgun’s chamber as the monster drew closer. Rita screamed. He saw her on the porch darting back and forth as if she didn’t know whether to make a break for the car or go back inside and lock the door. He didn’t have time to tell her what to do. The hulking beast was within yards of him. He jerked up the shotgun as a desperate plan formed in his head. He waited until the thing was nearly on top of him, so close he could smell the stink of its rancid breath, then he leaped forward, shoving the shotgun’s barrel straight into the monster’s neck. He squeezed the trigger the moment the barrel made contact. The shotgun bucked in his hands. He ducked as the monster swung at him with a vicious backhanded swing, trying to push him away from it. The thing staggered, clutching the hole in its neck as blood poured over its matted hair and stained the fur of its chest a bright red. Its cries turned to wet, gargling noises. Still holding its neck, trying to stop the bleeding, it stumbled into the trees and out of view.

Brent turned his attention back to Rita and saw her finally make her choice. She came flying down the porch to the car. He jumped into the driver’s seat and slammed the vehicle into reverse as soon as she was inside.

“
What was that thing?” she asked.

“
Bigfoot,” was his only response as her house shrunk in the rearview mirror behind them.

Powell

Becca and Powell stood over her desk, looking over a map of Babble Creek.

“
This is hopeless,” he said. “With the power out and the phone acting funny now, not to mention we’re down to three officers assuming Brent even makes it back, there’s no way we can save everyone.”

“
I spoke with Sheriff Davies in Macon. Every officer he can spare is en route along with some help from their police department.”

“
That’s great, but we both know with the road winding down the mountain and into town, even without the rain that may be coming, it’s going to take them an hour or more to get here. As fast as these things are moving, half the population of Babble Creek will likely be dead by then if it isn’t already.”

“
What we have to do is get everyone together,” Becca said as Justin walked into the office. “Somewhere we must have a chance of holding the things back.”

“
Where’s Fred?” Powell asked as Justin, apparently overhearing what Becca had been saying, looked at the map.

“
He’s sleeping off a little too much drink.” Justin tapped the map with his finger. “How about the high school? It’s what we use for tornadoes and the like. The gym is big enough to fit everyone and the doors are metal. We can chain them shut and put snipers on the roof.”

“
Sounds like a plan, unless these things can jump,” Powell said. “It’s better than anything I got.”

“
The school’s fine,” Becca said. “The question is, how do we get people there and fast? Not everyone is going to have a radio that runs on batteries or a backup generator. We don’t have the time to go house-to-house. The risk of encountering those things is too great as well. Bumping into one would be bad enough, but running into a pack, that would be the end of it. We can’t afford to lose anyone else.”

“
We’re just going to have to hope people come there on their own as they realize how bad things are,” Powell said, pulling his Glock from its holster and checking its clip. The weapon was near useless, but the act of doing so made him feel better anyway. It was good to know it would be there if he got desperate.

Becca looked exhausted and he knew she was.

He decided it was time for him to step up and try to take some of the stress off her shoulders. “Justin, get Fred and round up everyone you can as you go. Take them to the school and start getting it ready.”

“
Where are you going?” Becca asked as Powell headed for the office door.

“
I’ve got a plan. I’ll meet you guys there,” he said. He didn’t have to look back to know they were all staring after him.

Brent

This Monday night was one for the history books, Brent thought as his patrol car reached the main road running through Babble Creek. The sasquatches were no longer bothering to keep to the shadows and folks were beginning to figure out what was going on. The streets of the town were far from quiet this evening. All hell had broken loose. People ran everywhere—streets, sidewalks, lawns—it didn’t matter. Many of the store windows were smashed in and shards of glass littered the sidewalks. Worse, it wasn’t from looters. The sasquatches stalking the street would often grab the people in their path and fling them aside as they closed in on whatever unlucky person struck their fancy as a target. Brent saw one of the creatures close in on an elderly woman out of the corner of his eye as the patrol car flew by. She swatted at it with a folded up umbrella before it pulled her close and bit into the top of her skull while its giant hands crushed her shoulders. Old Hank’s bar was on fire. The dancing orange hues of the blaze mingled with the bright starlight and the full moon above. Brent watched in disbelief as a sasquatch bounded from an alleyway straight into the middle of the road in front of him.