Fossil Lake: An Anthology of the Aberrant (4 page)

He’d led these people here, through storm and fire, past Indians and bandits, to a place where they should be safe. Now they were in danger of dying at the hands of some beast, for he couldn’t imagine any man capable of such brutality.

No, he wasn’t going to stand for this. He swore that no more of his charges would die here. Tonight, there would be a reckoning.

“Hugh,” he called.

The pastor came over, his face pale. “What is it, Verner?”

“Need you to take everyone out of the valley. Today, while it’s still light. Leave the wagons and livestock. Camp up at the top of the hills, but don’t light any fires. That murderin’ devil is bound to come back again, but this time I’ll be the only one here. And I’ll be waiting.”

Campbell appeared ready to dispute this course of action, how there was no way one aging trail boss could stand against such a beast, but then he must have seen that cold rage in Verner’s eyes and known it was pointless to argue. “I’ll get right on it.”

“Soon as we bury his body. Albert might have been a worthless little shit, but he was our worthless little shit and we take care of our own.”

The service was quiet. Few tears were shed besides those of Matteo and his wife. Most of the settlers were more concerned with which of them might be next. Still, Hugh Campbell gave a good sermon before telling them the plan. A few of the men immediately volunteered to stay, but Verner talked them down. This was his fight.

Once they were gone, he started making his preparations.

*     *     *

Within the lake, it turned and writhed, stomach a roiling pit of agony.

The runty two-legs had seemed plump and juicy, but the meat must have been bad, tainted with dirt and sickness.

It considered leaving the other two-legs be for that night, but it needed something to take the foul taste from its mouth. If the next one proved as vile as the last, though, it would just slaughter them all and leave them for the crows.

Powerful arms and legs propelled it shoreward, skimming beneath the surface with the speed of a loosed arrow. Cautiously raising its head, it sniffed at the air.

Alarm gripped it upon finding its prey had seemingly vanished, the two-legs gone from the valley while leaving their four-legs behind. Then it detected a single two-legs still there, by the burning fire. The two-legs smelt old and tired, not the best meal, but it would have to do.

It crept from the water, staying low in the grass, closing in on the circle of wagons and the fire where its prey sat unaware. It lurked for long moments, watching. The old two-legs seemed to be dozing.

Splashes of steaming drool hit the ground as it ran its tongue over its fangs. Its muscles tensed, pushing it forward in a great leap. A mighty arm struck at the unsuspecting back.

The beast let out a confused snarl as its clawed hand smashed through a coat and hat draped over a bundle of sticks shaped like a two-legs. The snarl changed to a scream as a wire snare hidden among the sticks snapped tight, cutting deep into slimy flesh. The other end of the snare was affixed to one of the wheeled contraptions the two-legs used, so heavy that even with all its strength the creature could barely budge it.

As it shrieked, as it roared its pain and fury into the night, something that smelled of the manure of four-legs appeared.

*     *     *

Eugene Verner thought he was ready for what he’d face when, covered in ox-shit, he rolled out from under the wagon with a gun in each fist. Some kind of deranged cannibal giant, perhaps.

And, struggling against the snare was a giant, yes. Ten feet tall at least, and with the basic form of a man … but there the similarities ended.

Its spine was twisted and misshapen, more suited for running on all fours than standing straight. Its skin, glistening in the firelight, alternated between patches of scales and sodden fur. Each toe and finger was capped with a razor sharp claw. On its neck, gills flared in gulping anxiety. Two batlike ears poked through the strands of a long, tangled mane.

The face was almost human, almost. Beneath a wide flat nose, the bellowing mouth bulged into a snout. A snake-tongue flicked through rows of yellow fangs

The eyes, though, the eyes were the worst. They were not the eyes of a mere animal, but contained a baleful intelligence, a cold cunning, and a hatred of everything that walked, swam, flew, or crawled beneath the great blue sky.

Verner froze at the sight of those eyes, the blood draining from his face. A heavy tightness clenched his chest. His arms lost their strength, the gun barrels tipping down.

The monster lunged toward him with such force that the wagon wheels skidded sideways across the ground. The snare cut deeper into its trapped arm, thin blood flowing. Its deadly jaws snapped the air. Its claws flailed just short of Verner’s stunned flesh.

It uttered garbled sounds that, though barely recognisable as words, were some dialect of the Indian tribes. Hearing that, hearing this abomination trying to speak, Verner jerked from his stupor. Fighting the hot ache in his chest, he put forth a Herculean effort to raise his leaden arms.

The guns rang out again and again, each shot hammering home into the monster’s chest. Flowers of blood bloomed on its skin, though the impact barely seemed to slow or affect it.

All too soon, Verner’s guns were empty. Still the beast stood, hauling itself and the wagon ever closer. Resigned to this final struggle, Verner let the guns drop. He clung to the side of another wagon, supporting himself with one hand while drawing his hunting knife from his belt with the other.

The beast lunged again. Verner leaped to meet it, despite the protesting creak of his joints. He caught hold of its ropy mane and swung himself up onto its broad, scaly back. He locked his legs around its ribs. It bucked and thrashed, trying to shake him loose, but he’d broken more than a few wild broncos in his days.

He stabbed the sturdy blade into the side of its thick neck. Yanking it out, he slammed it in again and again, perforating its hide.

Eventually, between man, snare and beast, something had to give. Surprisingly, it was the beast, as the snare’s sharp wire sawed through bone and its arm hit the ground with a sickening thump. Voicing an ear-piercing screech, it pitched over backwards.

Its full weight smashed down atop Verner. He felt his ribcage crush, felt a snap and the loss of sensation in his legs. He couldn’t even hitch in a breath to cry out. On the brighter side, his other aches and pains were no longer a bother.

He waited for the end, for the beast to finish him off. But that end was slow in coming. Agonized and disoriented, wanting only escape, it blundered haphazardly away into the night.

Verner hitched himself up enough to lean against a wagon wheel and shut his eyes.

*     *     *

That was how they found him in the morning, when Hugh Campbell came with a small group of men into camp, guns at the ready.

After the ruckus they’d heard the night before, they weren’t expecting it to be pretty. Nor was it. They found a large, scaled arm lying in a pool of blood, with a generous blood trail leading towards the lake. Then they found Eugene Verner, slumped against a wagon wheel, his face pale, half his chest caved in.

Hugh Campbell edged forward, his hand reaching out respectfully to the dead man, only to start as Eugene’s eyes flickered open. Though they were clouded, he peered at the men. His face contorted into a grimace of effort as he inhaled.

“That you, Hugh?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Verner,” Hugh said, tone solemn. “Bad night, then?”

“I’ve had worse.” Verner said, the last of his breath seeping out in a rattling chuckle, and then he died.

ROAD KILL ANGEL

Dana Wright

“God, I
hate
this damn road.” 

Jessica slapped on her blinkers and jerked the car door open, slamming it closed with a huff as she got out. She stalked down the darkened street, lit only by the steady stream of her car’s headlights, and stifled an oath.

Another dog lay by the side of the road, hit by a speeding motorist. This was the third one this week.

Fossil Lake. Yeah, right. It was more like a fucking graveyard. Fake scenic wonders, fake transplanted trees, and now a nice nifty hole in the earth that they tried to pass off as the stock name for the new subdivision.

The area used to be a nice patch of woods with a real lake, years ago, but the drought had taken care of that. Now the developers had decided it was time to recreate one of nature’s wonders.

Fossil Lake, version 2.0. What a crock.

The main road was turning into a drag strip, and Jess despised it. The builders promised speed bumps and street lights, but so far none of it had happened.  All the new construction had gotten her was an unfortunate new hobby, and it was starting to get on her nerves.

The little furry body lay there, twisted. Jess peered closer. This one was some kind of beagle mix. She leaned in and checked for tags on the collar under the blood-matted fur.

“Why do those assholes have to aim for every animal they see?” 

This was somebody’s misplaced baby. Cute as hell too, or at least it would have been if it wasn’t covered in blood and viscera. And dead.

Jess closed her eyes and sent a prayer over the critter, as she always did. She had grown weary of burying dead things, but there was no one else to do it. She went to the back of her car and hit the button on her key fob, opening the hatchback.

She would carefully tuck this one into the earth just like she had all the others. It made her happy to at least do that. Well, maybe happy wasn’t the right word. It just felt right. Jess knew it made her a freak but she didn’t  much care. Rifling through the equipment, she unearthed a tarp and shovel. Dragging the equipment from the vehicle, she set it on the ground next to the animal.

Movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention. An engine roared. Headlights cut the gloom with white hot menace.

“Damn it!” Jessica froze in the middle of the street as the car barreled toward her. “Slow down!” She waved her arms at the motorist, but the car just kept coming.

It slammed into her, and everything slowed down to a crawl. Air rushed from her lungs as her eyes met the driver’s startled gaze. Her body crumpled against the windshield and bounced off the hood, landing on the pavement. The loud crack of her skull hitting the pavement barely registered.

Jess lay in the street watching the red tail lights speed by and fade into the distance. Was this how the dog felt as its life drained out? Wracking pain turned to blinding numbness as cold crept into her body, dragging her down into the darkness. Into silence.

*     *     *

“I don’t know, Virgil. She’s kind of a mess.”

“We need someone to do the job. Unless you’re volunteering.”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“Is this protocol?”

“She doesn’t belong here. Send her back. She’ll do it.”

“Fine.”

The voices stirred Jessica from the quiet warmth and she snuggled in deeper. “Dad … turn down the TV. I’m trying to sleep.”

“Jessica. Time to wake up.”

Irritation spiked through her. “Dad, come on!” Jessica growled, sitting up. “Please, just let me sleep ...”

Blinking, her eyes becoming adjusted to a cold bright light, she found herself staring at an imposing gray haired man in white robes. A younger man with a shock of dark hair, in similar garments, stood next to him.

“You’re not my dad,” she said.

“No.” The older man smiled.

She rested on a white bed of something that looked suspiciously like clouds.
No freaking way.
She raised her sore arm and gingerly touched the back of her head. It hurt. A lot.

“Ow.” When she drew her hand back, it was covered in blood.

“Don’t worry,” he told her. “You won’t feel it for long.”

Jess frowned. “What happened? Where am I?”

“Time to go back. Good luck.”

She barely had time to register his words, and then she was falling.

*     *     *

The wind whipped through her hair. She screamed, gravity pulling her down. Faster. The pavement rose to meet her, coming closer and closer. Inches before she would have connected, something froze her fall.

Her back began to itch and burn. “Ow!” She flexed her muscles and something shifted behind her. She turned, expecting to see someone.

Nothing. Wiggling her back, she rotated her shoulder blades to try and dislodge the uncomfortable pressure. Out of the corner of her eye she saw muddy gray feathers expanding into huge fans. “What the fuck?”

“Nice wings,” said an unfamiliar voice.

“What?” Jess looked around and saw she was on the same lonely stretch of highway next to Fossil Lake.

It was almost like she had never left. Her car was still there, lights carving a path in the darkness. The body of the beagle rested next to the tarp. She trudged back toward the dead animal and tried to shake off the uneasy feeling that her world had completely shifted off its axis.

The sudden sharp memory of the car hitting her made her gasp. Horrified, her eyes scanned the street and found her own body lying in a heap on the concrete.

Am I dead?
She reached down and pinched the pale flesh of her arm. Pain radiated across her skin.

“Okay, not completely,” she said. “Um. Okay.”

Now she was hearing voices and blacking out with freaky visions.
God, that’s my body on the street!
She stood there, gaping. This night was getting better and better all the time. God, she just wanted to go home, pop a bag of microwave popcorn in the nuker and have a beer. A really big one.

A fine mist began to fall and she shivered as the tee shirt and jeans she was wearing dampened. Her sneakers squished as she stepped into a puddle from the earlier rain.

Great.

Dead body. Deserted road. Middle of the night. Wings. Oh wow.

Her mind folded in on itself. Why the hell was she standing out here in the middle of nowhere? This was not going to end well. She was pretty damn sure of that.

Where’d I leave my phone? I need to call Dad!

He was probably home by now, wondering when she was going to get off her shift at the diner. Or fallen asleep on the couch.

She didn’t see her phone, but saw the shovel and bent to pick it up.

At least I can still touch things. That’s good.

The unfamiliar voice spoke again. “Are you going to help me, here? Or am I supposed to wait for the next one?”

“Who said that?”

“Down here.” A light touch of cold went down her leg as something brushed against her jeans.

Jess jumped. Standing at her feet was the translucent, silvery form of a beagle. Or, rather, two parts of a beagle. And one was talking.

“Is this a joke?” she asked.

“Seeing as how I’m dead and so are you, I wouldn’t say that it was a joke. No.” The beagle glanced over at his body by the tarp. “You need to send me home, okay?”

“How do I do that?” Jess snorted. “Look for some red shoes and click my heels together?”

The beagle gave her a cross look. “Didn’t they teach you anything while you were gone?”

“Um, no. I woke up, I fell, and now I have these ugly gray wings.” She shook her shoulders and said wings flexed and retracted against her back. “Oh, and apparently I’m just as dead as you.”

The beagle rolled his doggy eyes and dragged the bottom half of its spectral body so it could sit down next to her. “Well, not quite as dead. You’re holding the shovel, aren’t you? That’s something.” At her baffled expression, the beagle cocked its head. “Look, maybe you’re here for a purpose.”

“What? Wiping up carnage for all eternity. Nice.” Jess scowled and kicked at a rock in the road.

What am I supposed to do now? My body is lying in the street! Should I call someone? What the hell would I say?

“You really are a smartass for an angel.”

“Angel?” Jess laughed harshly. “ Now that is funny. Sorry. I’m a little cranky. Dying will do that to a girl.”

“Someone’s coming.” The beagle squinted at the bright but distant lights speeding down the deserted street and mewled deep in his throat.

Jess’s fingers began to tingle. She looked at the headlights and something deep in her gut tightened, fierce and visceral.

“It’s the same car,” she whispered, awareness flooding through her. “I feel it. The blood. It’s calling me.” 

She flexed her fingers and made a fist, nails cutting into her palm. The freakishness of the moment should have alarmed her, but instead it solidified everything that had happened.

“Yeah. You can wash the blood away, but it still connects with you, you know?” The beagle growled under his breath, gazing out into the darkness at the ghostly shapes dotted along the stretch of highway. “He hit me. Most of the others too. Can you see them? Every time he comes this way, we’re drawn to the road. We watch, but there is nothing we can do.” He looked up at her mournfully. “Until you that is.”

The center of her back itched and her wings grew heavy, aching to fly. She wanted to catch the fucker and make him pay. Rage filtered through her, powerful and sudden.  She stalked toward the road, her stride brisk.

Her newfound connection with the dead alive in her being, she called to the animals and they came. All shapes and sizes, they crept onto the forbidden territory of the road, the place that had been their unfortunate demise. Their ghostly forms flickered in the darkness, a sea of ghost lights.

“God, how many are there?” she whispered.

“Too  many,” the beagle said. “He comes this way every day at least once. He aims for them.”

Jess’s mouth curved in a terrible smile. “My turn.”

She reached out to the dead, their blood mingling on the advancing unholy car.

“Come,” she called. “We take what belongs to us.”

The animals converged. Their forms solidified, becoming flesh for a wild hunt once more. Howls rent the night air as the hissing of cats and barking of dogs merged with the trumpeting of deer and the chattering of squirrels and raccoons. Their eyes glowed red in the darkness, staring with malicious intent at the vehicle barreling down on them.

Jess heard music blaring from the speakers, the sound stabbing through the quiet night.

Why’d he come back? To make sure I was dead?

Anger coiled inside her, hot and vicious. Clenching her teeth, she opened her wings and took a step forward. The hunt followed, powerless victims no more. The hunted had become the hunter, and their prey approached.

Headlights washed over Jess’s body as the car came closer and closer. He had to see her. There was no way he didn’t. Uncharted rage spread through Jess and she broke into a run, meeting the car at full speed, her new powers giving her strength she never knew she had. Her sneakered feet pounded the pavement. As the car roared down the highway in her direction, Jess snarled and leaped, using her newfound wings as leverage. She landed on the hood.

She saw the driver’s wide eyes meet hers through the windshield, read a silent, “What the fuck?” on his lips.

Her wings spread to their full span, blinding him, blocking his view.

There was nowhere to go. He jerked the car to the left and Jess held on, her wings acting like sails in the midst of a storm. As the driver stepped on the brakes, the car went into a spin and collided with a tree close to the side of the road. Jess sprang high from the impact. The front of the car merged with the massive oak, accordion-style.

She hovered above, wings supporting her. The driver, hollering in pain and anger, struggled in the wreckage. It held him fast. Jess descended again onto the crunched hood. He stared at her with disbelief, then at the horde of animals surrounding the car.

“Oh, God!” he cried.

“Exactly.” She brought the shovel down onto the cracked windshield with full force. Glass shattered, a shower of fragments exploding inward.

The driver screamed. “You! You bitch! I killed you!” His voice was high and full of terror. He gave a futile swipe at his eyes.”You’re dead. So are the rest of you. Fucking road kill!”

Jess smiled a terrible smile and let her wings open to their full expanse.

“Come and get him.”

The wild hunt converged on the car, their rotting bodies crowding against the sides of the vehicle, mouths gaping in want. Teeth and claws ready to dispense justice, they moved forward, a mass of ghostly energy turned feral and very, very real.