Dark Camp

  by J.R. Winton

The moon rose above the trees, full and bright, turning everything bluish silver wherever its light touched.  The breeze brought a chill to it, and stirred the shadows of the trees into surreal drifting’s, the gentle hiss of the leaves almost soothing.

Callahan quietly slid into a sitting position against a lightning-scarred pine, making himself part of the shadows, and scanned the trees around him.  Absently, he fought to control his breathing as he pulled a round of .44 Winchester from his belt and topped off his rifle’s magazine.

It was still out there.  He knew it.  He could feel it.  There were even moments when he knew its eyes were on him; when he knew it was trying to figure out how to get close to him.  But, he knew it was wary.  Uncertain.  He’d proven a greater challenge than it had expected or anticipated.

The cool shifting of the air got under the brim of his hat and through his scarf above his coat, and he felt his body erupt into gooseflesh.

He’d first spotted whatever it was that was out there as he’d been preparing to make camp for the night; he’d cut some wood from a deadfall tree and been getting the fire going so he could heat himself a quick meal of beans when he saw the silver eyes glittering at him in the gathering darkness.

At first, Callahan wasn’t overly concerned.  Spend enough time camping under the stars and you’ll see wildlife all around you.  He could spot the difference between the eyes of deer, or elk - even bears and coyotes – but the more he’d looked at what lurked beyond the firelight the more of a chill had settled into his bones. 

Those eyes were too big and glowed with too much menace.  A deer looked at you like you were a predator, and a bear - depending on his mood – tended to look at you like you just might be food.  Maybe.  Depending on his mood.  The intensity of those eyes in the dark felt personal, burning with hunger and viciousness.  Callahan’s first instinct was wolf…

… but no.

When it came the first time, it was like it was reveling in the moment; squatting back on its heels and savoring its anticipated meal.  In retrospect he figured it assumed he’d be paralyzed in fear, frozen in place and unable to react… and it had been wrong.  Its momentary hesitation had been enough; by the time it came he’d managed to raise his rifle and fire. 

The sound the creature made was the first moment when he’d felt truly unmanned.  This was no bear or wolf…but something else.  Its howl was pure guttural hate as it jolted from the impact, and Heaven help him, it sounded almost human in its rage and frustration.

It was pure instinct for him to work the lever on the Winchester in the blink of an eye to extract the fired case and chamber a fresh round, and he got off a second shot within a heartbeat of the first.  But the creature had been turned by the impact of that first bullet, and it had vanished back into the dark before the second shot could pass through where it had been standing.

Gasping in the adrenaline aftermath, he was left with an afterimage of something big, with blood-red eyes and impossible teeth, and a hint of fur even blacker than a raven’s wing.

He picked himself up and moved to where his horse stood frozen in place.  The animal’s eyes were wide and dilated, its ears forward, and it shivered in obvious terror.

“Easy…” he said softly, comfortingly putting a hand on his mount’s nose, even as he tried to look in every direction at the same time.

Where in the Hell had it gone?

The speed with which it had appeared, attacked, and disappeared back into the night was heart-stopping.  He moved to where he was pretty sure it had been when he’d fired, holding a piece of a burning log from the fire high to see, and he’d found a patch of dark liquid in the dead, dry grass he was pretty sure was blood; though he wasn’t completely sure and he didn’t trust himself to touch it to confirm it.

He turned and returned to his horse, which stared at him with wide, frightened eyes, its ears now turning in each direction.

“Yeah…didn’t much care for the bastard neither,” he said softly.  He debated with himself for several seconds before grunting to himself and slipping his rifle into the scabbard on his saddle.  He drew his Remington, figuring he could swing it more quickly than the rifle; he’d always had fast hands, and the sixgun had saved him in bad situations more than once in the past.  Since they fired the same ammunition, the sixgun’s impact would still be heavy.

Heavy enough? a traitorous part of his brain whispered at him.  He shivered a little as he thought about how big and fast that thing was.

Where in the name of tarnation is it?

He gathered up the reins and led his horse towards the deadfall tree.  It had fallen in a way that created a little redoubt in between two still living pines, and he gently herded the horse into the small, sheltered space, positioning himself so he could protect the animal and ensure that if whatever was out there came again it would have to come straight at him from a direction he could control…

As if it had sensed his intent, it came again; a dark blur that he barely saw amongst the shadows.  No sound but the hiss of its fur as it passed through the brush.  Close.  Oh, God, it’s so close…!

The stab of flame from the Remington stunned his eyes, and he slammed his left hand down on the hammer, fanning the gun, multiple shots discharging in a single hard smash of sound…

The impact as it crashed into him was immense, driving the air from his lungs and throwing him backwards into one of the pines, the Remington spinning away as he lost his grip on it.  He felt a flare of agony as the jaws of the predator clamped down on his shoulder…

Running on sheer instinct his hand went to his belt, and he felt the hilt of his knife come into his grip, and he immediately drove the blade forward with a roar of his own.  Every bit of animalistic terror and drive for survival guided his hand, and he added his roar to the howl of his attacker as the knife plunged home.

They hit the ground, and the creature shuddered.  Callahan planted his booted foot into its belly and shoved it away, staggering to his feet as he swung around, wild-eyed, and spotted his Remington lying in the grass.  He scooped the gun up, swung around, thumbing the hammer back as he raised it, hoping against hope there was at least one last cartridge in the cylinder…

Reality swam, and he blinked his eyes rapidly, trying to clear them as his brain tried and failed to process what he was seeing.

The body lying there in the moonlight wasn’t an animal at all…but a man.  A big and naked man with broad shoulders and a wild mane of hair.  He was breathing raggedly, fighting for every gasp of air, his chest covered in blood as it heaved.

Even as Callahan stared, the man’s eyes opened, rolling absently in their sockets until they focused, looking up at him with an incomprehensible mix of pain, agony…

…And gratitude??

“Sorry…” the man gasped.  “So sorry…”  His words spat out amongst the ghastly gurgling as his lungs filled with blood.  “Didn’t want to... but I…couldn’t help it.  The hunger…it’s like a fever…burns you up inside…”

“You’re dyin’, you sonofabitch,” Callahan snarled, holding his wounded arm tight to his side as he glared over the top of his Remington at the man.  “Nothing I can do for you.”

The man shook his head.  “You…did what…I needed,” he gurgled.  “You set…me free.  Finally…finally free…”

“Free?” Callahan shook his head in confusion.  “What do you mean, ‘free’?”

The man looked at him again, and Callahan was driven back a step by the pity that came into the man’s eyes.  “Free…of what you gotta… carry now.  Forgive me…  Oh, God Almighty…forgive…”  His last breath rattled from his mouth, and the man went limp, his eyes going glassy and far away.

Callahan stood there for a moment, staring at the man, trying to get his heart under control, it was hammering so hard in his chest…

Absently, he put his head back against the tree and looked up at the sky and wondered at his realization that he’d never noticed how beautiful the moon could be.

Good Lord, but he was hungry all of a sudden…

Jrwinton.net

  This is a short story written by J.R. Winton. Links and images were added to add flare and entertainment. You can find books written by J.R. Winton on Amazon and jrwinton.net.