Forest of Savages, Rookie Burwick [the giving tree read aloud TXT] 📗

at them, his eyes widened by the sight of them.

 

He ran a few more feet before finding a large log that over hung a small, almost cave-like area. He kept his eyes glued to it as he nearly tumbled down the slope.

 

When, or a split second, he took his eyes off the log, he found himself tripping over it. He fell headlong into the pine needles and dirt. Despite the bad fall, blood dripping from his hands, panic still controlled him.

 

Several of the beasts were already jumping down in front of him, snarling when they laid their eyes on his. One of them charged toward him, grunting for the others to do so.

 

He quickly crab-walked backwards and managed to duck under the overhanging log before the horrid Bigfoot could swipe at him. He watched in horror as the creature ducked down, and slowly crawled toward him. It came so close, he could look into its eyes. He let out a loud shriek.

 

His eyes shut tight. He waited to die.

 

Seconds passed. The beast only growled. But soon, the growl grew faint, as if the terrible animal making it was moving away.

 

Two gun shots rang out, and the creature fell dead.

 

***

 

When Prine opened his eyes, he saw Nick standing several feet away, a pistol aimed low to the ground, eyes wide and out of breath.

 

“Nick! You’re alive!” he called out as he stood up.

 

“Yeah, thank God,” Nick replied, taking his eyes from the dead beast.

 

Prine couldn’t help but sigh with relief.

 

“How did you get out of this hellish place?”

 

“I’m not out yet,” Nick nodded toward something behind him.

 

He didn’t want to look, but he forced himself to turn around and take a peek. Thousands of the Bigfoot were marching down the slope in an un-orderly fashion.

 

“We’re going to have to go back,” Nick said.

 

“What?” he turned back to Nick. “You’re crazy!”

 

“It’s the only way. We’ll never get passed these things with just a few rounds out of a small pistol.”

 

“Either way, we’ll have to put up a good fight!”

 

Nick suddenly glared at him.

 

“Do you want to survive this or not?!”

 

He didn’t argue any further. Nick took the lead, racing down the slope. Now, they both traveled at a much faster pace. The slope was hard on his knees, but he still kept on his feet.

 

The Bigfoot, as always, weren’t far behind at all. Strange, mournful howls erupted from deep in their throats. The howls weren’t the normal, anger-filled yelps. They were long, and sad. Neither man could fathom the difference.

 

The awful noises lasted a while too. Every step Prine took allowed time for another one to join the chorus.

 

“What do you think is wrong?” he asked, slowing to catch his breath.

 

“God knows. Just ignore them.”

 

“I can’t!”

 

Nick said nothing further. His eyes were glued to the forest ahead. Prine pulled a radio from his belt, and held it to his mouth.

 

“Come in Patrol Copter 2, come in!”

 

“This is Copter 2, go ahead.”

 

Panic filled his voice.

 

“You better get out here to the Western slope now!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EIGHT

 

Jerry Maclane was the pilot of the search-and-rescue chopper that was now scouting the area for any signs of three hunters. He had gone out of his home county to help, and was pretty ticked off about it. All he remembered was something about three lost game hunters and a sasquatch.

 

He listened to the people-in-need factor, but not the other factor. He didn’t know if Sheriff Prine was losing his head, believing false witnesses, or what.

 

The fact that he’d gone out of his way to help, and then the sheriff radios to give him a nasty order, steamed him. He began to bring the helicopter down lower, towards an open field. For the full hour and a half he had been scouting the area, he hadn’t seen a single thing. Not even a deer or buck. Usually, he saw something like that by now.

 

Voices murmured through the radio, but he didn’t pay attention to them. They were obviously just some of the other search and rescue members, chit-chatting about the whole thing.

 

Jerry brought the chopper a few feet lower, and then began to circle. The field was wide enough to do a few circles. He scanned the ground with eyes, seeing nothing but green grass.

 

What the heck did the guy mean? Jerry thought to himself. After all, we’re a search and rescue team, not a bloody cryptozoology agency. The thought made him tighten his grip on the controls. Despite the grip, he still managed to keep control.

 

He brought the chopper around a third time. As he circled, he caught a glimpse of something down on the ground. Whatever it was, it moved fast, and it was large. With his eyes squinted, he brought the chopper around one last time. But the thing was gone.

 

Jerry looked back to the sky, and began to bring the chopper back up. He got three feet up, and heard a loud thud. Suddenly, the chopper began to slowly swirl.

 

He pulled and pushed the controls to get it back into position, but something critical had been damaged. As he spun out of control, the flash of dark brown hair returned, and it was angry.

 

Jerry’s expression lit up with terror as the creature’s ape-like face came into view, glaring at him with its tiny, beady eyes. Three more emerged from the forest to his left.

 

One of them was holding a piece of metal, that looked like a pipe. As he looked at it, he soon realized it was a piece of the chopper.

 

The chopper hit the ground hard, and drug across the field. Dirt flew in all directions. They burst into dust when they smacked against the trunks of the tree. Jerry’s head smacked against the door, and all went black.

 

The horrid creatures outside rushed toward the fallen helicopter. Howls sounded off from their deep voice box. Jerry could just barley hear them enough to shiver. Blood and sweat slicked his white T-shirt. His blurry vision captured the image of one of the beasts approaching the helicopter’s stable door.

 

Glass shattered as the beast smashed through the windows. Shards of glass flew into his throat, and cut deep into his skin. The creatures drug out his body, and tore their claws deep into his gut.

 

***

 

Nick came to a halt at the sight of more Bigfoot. They all seemed to come down from the trees, as if having been hiding in wait for the sheriff and he.

 

“Son of a. . .” Prine began to say but stopped.

 

Nick didn’t reply. He was too busy trying to thick up a plan of some kind. He only had two rounds left in his pistol, and he was sure Prine didn’t have much left in his, either.

 

The idea he wanted wasn’t going to hit him nearly as easily as he had expected. But, one did hit him nonetheless. He turned toward Prine.

 

“Listen, lets at least try to kill a few of these things off. You handle those that way,” he said, pointing toward the slope. “And I’ll handle these.”

 

“Right.”

 

Prine began firing away. He spun around and did the same. The two rounds in his pistol didn’t last long, and only angered the beasts. Sweat began to soak is skin. The one he’d fired at began to charge toward him.

 

It was at that moment that he heard Prine’s pistol use its last round.

 

“What do we do now?!” Prine asked.

 

“Don’t ask me!” he replied.

 

A Bigfoot suddenly emerged from the trees in front of him. Only this one didn’t look like a Bigfoot at all. When he actually looked, he found it was a man. Blood covered him like sweat on a scorching hot day.

 

The sight of the man made him heave onto the pine needles. Every last morsel of the food and drink he’d consumed the previous night barreled up. The man stumbled about a little bit, then fell to the ground, dead.

 

When Nick finished up, he tried his best not to look at the body. He didn’t know for sure if Prine had seen it or not, but he hadn’t heard the man make a sound. But something else emerged from the trees.

 

Two large Bigfoot, howling in anger, came charging toward the body. Their noises rang in his ears, and made him want to scream for mercy, but he held it in. The beasts came to a halt at the body’s sides, grunting at each other before one bent down and dug its claws into the body’s back. Blood splat onto the ground beside it. The other Bigfoot hooked its claws into the head, and began dragging it away. Then, a battle broke out.

 

Both Bigfoot had ahold of the body, and were fighting over it with brutal force. The body was lifted from the ground, pulled and pushed. The beasts clawed and growled at each other like cats.

 

Finally, they began pulling against each other. They continued to keep eye contact at all times. Then, the body tore in half. Insides came spilling out onto the forest floor. The beasts dropped the pieces of the body, and turned toward him.

 

“Sheriff, are you still with me?!” he asked.

 

“Yeah, I’m here!”

 

“Well, we got a problem!”

 

Prine spun around, and shock took over him.

 

“That’s. . .that’s Jerry!” Prine cried out.

 

His loud cry angered the beasts. They let out more of their horrible howls as their heavy footfalls joined the dozens of other horrible noises that pierced the calm of the forest.

 

“Look out!” he cried.

 

Prine immediately started running into the forest off to his right. He ripped through the branches of the trees. Nick was frozen in place with fear.

 

The beasts were already surrounding him. It was all over. His life was coming to an end. He had no weapon. No strength. No wits left. He fell to his knees, buried his face in his hands, and let tears slowly stream into his palms.

 

The beasts extended their knife-like claws, and inched slowly toward him.

 

The last thing he saw was the horrid faces of Mother Nature’s worst monsters.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

NINE

 

Sheriff’s Deputy Tom Willen swerved the Sheriff vehicle to the left to dodge a large bump. He couldn’t quite get far enough away to miss it, so he bounced up and down in his seat yet again.

 

The quick but annoying action made him want to swear. Fresh cold air blew in through the open window, flopping his grey hair all of over the place. The sun was already below its peak, and would be setting before they knew it.

 

He, Deputy Morris and Deputy Johnson were all in the same squad car, headed up the mountain along with Sheriff Prine to answer a disturbance call from another fellow deputy. They had gotten so far behind, he went ahead and got sarcastic, and figured Prine would have it all wrapped up by the time they got there.

 

“How much longer?” Morris asked from the back.

 

He only shrugged.

 

“Quick askin’ dummy,” Johnson replied for him.

 

“Whatever.”

 

Tom had given up on veering away from the bumps. He just went with it now, letting the tires hit them full-on.

 

“Hey, watch the bumps Tom,” Johnson said.

 

“Watch your attitude,” he replied.

 

“Oh. . .right, sorry sir.”

 

“Besides, there’s only about five minutes left, according to the GPS. There’s two vehicles up there now.”

 

Johnson’s expression turned to one of slight shock.

 

“There’s two squad cars? Man, whatever happened must have been bad.”

 

“I hope it’s not another bear-in-trash deal,” Morris said.

 

Tom couldn’t help but glance toward the back every now and then, despite his eyes and focus being glued to the road ahead.

 

“Surely not, the sheriff said it sounded urgent.”

 

“The last guy who called in said it was urgent. A bear had gotten into his trash. He could’ve at least called the Department of Wildlife.”

 

Tom brought the vehicle to a halt suddenly. Now, his soul was glued to the road ahead, and the sight on it. Two Sheriff’s vehicles sat, engines off, in the center of the road. But there wasn’t a single human being to be found.

 

“Good lord, what happened?” he asked aloud.

 

“What?” Johnson leaned forward, and took a look.

 

Gasps escaped from the men’s mouths behind him.