They Call Me Creature (10 page)

“Hey—if you're hiding, it isn't funny!” I yelled.

I heard footsteps. Fast, running footsteps through the trees behind me.

I spun around. “Ellen? Stevie? Is that you?”

“Hunnh hunnh.” Animal grunts. Very close by.

I froze. My breath caught in my throat.

“Hunnnnh.” A long, low grunt.

And then a high, shrill squeal. A horrible, frightening cry—like an animal in pain.

I ran toward the sound.

My heart pounding, I raced from tree to tree, searching frantically, frightened of what I'd find.

In front of me I saw a clump of evergreen shrubs shaking. A flash of red through the greenery. Then I heard a long, loud
ripping
sound. It reminded me of a Velcro shoe being torn open.

My heart skipped a beat as I moved closer to the shrubs.

I heard a moan, soft and weak.

And then I stopped when I heard the chewing. The crack of bone breaking.

Loud chewing … chewing … chewing …

I couldn't stand it anymore.

I had to see what was on the other side of the shrub.

With a pounding heart, I moved around the bushes, looked down at the ground—and opened my mouth in an endless scream.

A deer was sprawled on its side in the tall grass. Its head had been torn off. The head sat straight up a few feet from the body. One eye stared blankly at me. The other eye had been yanked out.

The body had been clawed apart. Pale white bones and bright red meat poked out through the torn fur. A swarm of flies already buzzed around the opening.

“It … it's half-eaten,” I choked out.

I stared in horror at the deer. Most of the insides had been ripped out and devoured. The fur sagged loosely, like an empty bag.

“Oh, sick,” I moaned, finally turning away. “Sick.”

What kind of animal did this? There were no bears in these woods. So what was big enough and strong enough—and
hungry
enough—to do this?

And what if the deer hadn't come along? I thought.

I was so close to it. Would the animal have found
me
instead? Would it have ripped me apart and devoured me?

My whole body twisted in a violent shudder. I spun away from the dead deer. And realized that Ellen and Stevie were still out here. I had to find them. I had to make sure they were okay.

I circled back around the evergreen shrubs and found a path that curved towards the pond.

I started to follow the path when I heard the sound of footsteps again. With a frightened cry, I whirled around—and saw a man coming toward me, running fast. Eyeglasses glinted in the light.

“Dad!” I shouted. “Dad—what are you—”

I didn't finish my question.

As he drew closer, I gaped in horror at him. At the red stains all down the front of his clothes.

The red … the bright, wet red …

My dad—he … he was covered in blood.

 

“The blood,” I muttered.

I took a step back, my whole body tight with fear.

My dad stood hunched in front of me, breathing hard. “You promised, Laura. You promised to stay in the backyard.”

“But, Dad—” I pointed. “The blood … What is that blood?”

He looked down, as if seeing it for the first time. He stared at it for a long moment. “I heard you screaming,” he said finally. “I … I dropped everything and ran.”

The blood stained both of his hands. I saw a patch of it darkening on his chin.

“I ran into a sharp tree branch,” he said. “I … cut my chest, I guess. I didn't stop to check. I thought you were in trouble.”

We stared at each other. I couldn't take my eyes off the bright, red blood. Still wet. Still so wet.

Did I believe his story?

I wanted to believe it. I really did. But I remembered the journal in the shed.
If we kill them, we will learn more. How many can we kill?

Did Dad kill the deer?

No … no … please—no!

He pulled off his glasses and wiped them on the side of his pants. He squinted at me. “Are you okay? The screaming … are you hurt?”

I shook my head. “No. A deer. I heard a deer being attacked. By some kind of animal. It scared me.”

I stared at my father. He couldn't have done it. He couldn't have ripped the deer's head off like that. He couldn't have, I told myself. No way. No way. No way.

Ellen and Stevie and all the other kids were waiting for me when Dad and I returned to the backyard. Dad slipped into the house while everyone gathered around me, talking all at once, smiling, relieved.

“Laura, where did you go?” Ellen asked. “We heard you screaming and—we were so scared.”

“Where did
you
go?” I demanded. “I went looking for you—”

“Stevie and I were in the garage,” Ellen said. “We were looking for another Frisbee.”

“Someone told me you were in the woods,” I said, sighing.

“Can we cut the cake now?” a boy shouted.

Everybody laughed.

We cut the birthday cake. It was a little melted and soggy from being left outside for so long.

The party broke up early. No one was really in the mood anymore.

“I'm really sorry,” I apologized to Ellen for the hundredth time as she headed away with Stevie and two other guys. “I—I shouldn't have run into the woods like that.”

Ellen hugged me. “It was a great party anyway. Oh, I forgot to tell you. Joe was here.”

“Huh? When?”

“He showed up right after you went into the woods. But you weren't here, so he left. He's not bad. Kind of shy. But not bad.”

I was so disappointed. Why didn't he stay? Oh, well. At least Ellen had finally met him.

After Ellen and the others left, I picked up some dirty paper plates and cups and carried them into the house.

But I couldn't finish cleaning up. I was too upset. And too confused. Dr. Carpenter said I could come back and talk some more—and that's exactly what I was going to do.

Dr. Carpenter knew something about Dad. Something she didn't want to tell me. But I had to make her tell me. I had to know.

I ran out the back door, letting the screen door slam behind me. Then I jumped on my bike and began pedaling hard, heading to the animal hospital.

I hoped she would be there. I really needed her help.

A few minutes later I jumped off my bike, letting it fall to the grass. Then I ran inside the building.

No one at the reception desk. I heard a radio playing down the hall. A few dogs were barking.

“Anyone here?” I called.

No answer. So I made my way to the main office. I pulled open the door. “Dr. Carpenter?” The lights were all on. I saw a cup of coffee and a half-eaten muffin on her desk. But no sign of her.

I'm not leaving this place without answers, I told myself. I can't live with all these questions about Dad. I'm afraid of him now. I can't be afraid of my own father.

I crossed the room to the wall of file cabinets.

I glanced back at the door. No sign of Dr. Carpenter.

I hurried to the file drawers. After a few seconds I found a drawer marked
EMPLOYMENT RECORDS
.

Yes! I thought. I pulled it out. The drawer was stuffed full. My hand shook as I started to shuffle through the files, searching for the one about my dad.

Finally I found one with his name on it. I lifted it out—and opened it.

Empty. The file was completely empty.

Someone had removed all of his records.

The file folder fell from my hand. I bent to pick it up.

And heard a startled voice from the doorway. “Laura! What are you doing?”

 

I jumped to my feet. “Dr. Carpenter!” I gasped. “I—I'm so sorry.”

Her blond hair gleamed under the ceiling lights. Her green eyes narrowed, studying me. “What are you doing here, Laura? What are you looking for?”

I didn't hold back. I told her everything I was worried about.

I told her about Dad locking himself in the shed day after day. I told her about the camera over the shed door. And about the strange howls and animal cries from inside the shed. I told her about the blood. I told her I thought Dad might be killing animals.

“I—I'm so worried about him, Dr. Carpenter,” I said, unable to keep my voice from trembling. “I'm worried. And I'm
afraid
of him. And … and he wants to send me away. Can you believe it?
Can you believe he'd actually send me away
?”

She stared at me. “Wow,” she muttered. “How awful. I don't believe it, Laura. I really don't. Your father is a good man, even if he … ”

“Even if what? What is he doing?” I cried. “Do you know? Why did he leave his job here? You have to tell me! You
have
to!”

She sighed and settled into her desk chair. She motioned for me to sit across from her. “Okay. Since you're so upset, I'll tell you what happened,” she said finally. “But it isn't a happy story, Laura.”

I sat stiffly with my hands cold and wet, clamped tightly together in my lap. And I listened to Dr. Carpenter's story….

“Your father and I were working together on some important genetic research with animals. But I began to feel that your dad was going too far. He became obsessed. He worked on the research day and night. And after a while he wouldn't tell me things he was working on. He had a lot of secrets.

“I began to suspect that he was taking the work in a different direction. I thought maybe he was doing experiments that were cruel to the animals.”

I listened carefully, trying to understand what Dr. Carpenter was telling me. “What kind of research was he doing?” I asked. “What was he trying to find out?”

“We were trying to understand how genes could be used to fight viruses. By studying the genetic patterns of the animals, we hoped to change the genes and prevent disease—not only in animals, but in people, too. Do you understand what I'm saying?” she asked.

“I think so.” I nodded. “And if animals had genes that could fight viruses, then you could figure out how to create virus-fighting genes in humans,” I reasoned.

“Exactly!” Dr. Carpenter exclaimed. “It would be so exciting. A medical miracle!”

She sat back in her chair. “But your father started taking the research too far. I heard horrible howls coming from his lab. He wouldn't tell me what he was doing. It was all too disturbing.” She let out a deep sigh.

“Your dad and I fought about it,” she continued. “We talked about him leaving, but he promised to stop.

“Then one day I was looking for some of my research notes, and they were missing. No one knew where I kept my notes. No one but your dad.

“It was terrible. How could I work with someone I couldn't trust? So I had to ask your dad to leave. It was very sad. But I had no choice.”

My mind spinning, I closed my eyes to think about everything Dr. Carpenter had said. And I pictured that little, whimpering animal in the shed. The one he was injecting with the big needle.

I could see my dad plunging the big needle into the squealing animal. And I knew it was all true….

I jumped up. Spun away. And ran out of the room. Out of the animal hospital. I don't even remember if I thanked Dr. Carpenter or said goodbye or anything.

I grabbed my bike and tore out of there, the horrible thoughts raging in my head, whirling like a hurricane. Into the woods. I spent an hour or so wandering among the trees. It had always calmed me to be here. But not this time.

I didn't get home till long after dinnertime. Dad was locked in his shed. I was glad. I didn't want to face him.

I wasn't hungry, but I made a sandwich and took it up to my room. I picked up the phone a couple of times to call Ellen. But each time I changed my mind.

What could I say?

I went to bed a little after eleven and fell into a dreamless sleep. I was awakened a few hours later by a long animal howl. From outside.

I sat up, rubbing my eyes, tugging my sweaty hair off the back of my neck. I climbed out of bed and made my way to the window as another long, sad howl—a howl of pain—floated up from the woods.