Bigfoot War Part 2

"There aren't exactly any protocols for dealing with something like this," Gab said.

"Let's wait to hear from Powell. Maybe we'll get lucky and bring Taylor in. In the meantime, hop on the phone and see if Lauren's got the results of those tests she sent off to Asheville yet."

"Yes, ma'am," Gab said and promptly disappeared from her office, leaving her alone with the stacks of paperwork.

Justin Justin hoped the drool wasn't obvious as he stared at Amanda's rear end. He'd never seen a finer one. He felt kind of wrong stealing glances at her as Pastor Ensley led the congregation in prayer, but he couldn't help himself. He was just a man. Justin prayed the Lord would understand.

Fred stood beside him in the pew with Terry. They smelled like the beer they had this morning to fight off their hangovers. Sometimes he wondered why they even bothered to come to the evening service. Justin guessed it was because he did. Ever since he inherited his dad's used car business and was able to leave the nine-to-five grind behind, his popularity in Babble Creek had continued to grow. Most folks thought he had it made; the fact that he was the best tracker and hunter in town didn't hurt either. He had won the annual deer hunting compet.i.tion , which was a huge event for Babble Creek, for the last five years running. People looked at him with a respect he knew he didn't deserve. Once in a while, it really bothered him. In reality, he wasn't nearly as well off as he was made out to be by the rumor mill.

The church wasn't crowded. It usually wasn't on a Sunday night. Only the truly devoted or those who couldn't make the morning service attended. He thanked G.o.d Amanda was one of them. It was a heck of a lot easier to see her here than behind the jewelry counter at the Walmart where she worked. She was his reason for coming tonight. He believed in G.o.d, but it was her that kept him coming to church.

The prayer ended and everyone took their seats. Fred's eyes closed almost instantly. Justin promised himself he wouldn't elbow the man unless the guy started snoring. Justin shot a glance at Terry, who shrugged helplessly. The pair of them were often more trouble than they were worth, but the three of them had been friends since grade school.

Pastor Ensley began his sermon and Justin did his best to pay attention.

Jeff Jeff frowned. The sun was already past its zenith in the sky and they had yet to find any tracks left by the monster. Deep inside, he admitted his real hope was the monster would have found them by now. He'd hoped the thing would come after them to defend its territory. Maybe he'd even hoped it would remember him and come to finish what it started all those years ago.

"Let's go home, Jeff," Tom said from where he sat on the gra.s.s. One of his shoes was off and he was inspecting the growing blisters on the sole of his foot.

At that moment, two blips suddenly appeared on Jeff's motion detector screen. They weren't large enough to be the creature and Jeff's sudden hope vanished as he recognized that. "We have company coming," he said. "Get up."

Tom pulled himself to his feet, grimacing as two men in deputy uniforms from the Babble Creek Sheriff's Department emerged from the trees. One was a giant in his own right, the other a more sly-looking man in his early thirties.

The shorter one was clearly in charge and smiled at them.

"Now, gentlemen, I hope you have permits for those weapons you're carrying."

Jeff held his rifle like a professional killer, ready for trouble. Tom must have seen the look on his face because he moved between him and the deputies.

"Whoa!" Tom shouted. "n.o.body wants any trouble here, officers. We were about to head home."

"Coach Birchfield," the deputy whose badge read powell said, "if you and your friend will hand over those rifles, we can all head back to town together. Hate to say it but I don't know many people that go hunting with M-16s."

Jeff watched in disgust as Tom tossed the big deputy his rifle then turned toward him.

"Come on, man. Don't make this worse than it is."

Jeff sighed. It wasn't supposed to end like this. Finally, he nodded in agreement, lowering his rifle. Tom went to reach down to pick up Jeff's motion sensor from where he'd dropped it while he brought his rifle up at the deputies. Tom screamed. Something lifted him from his feet and yanked him into the ma.s.s of trees behind him too fast for even Jeff to get a clear look at what it was.

Jeff couldn't believe he let the officers take his focus off the area around them. He didn't hear the sensor beep and now the monster was here and it had the upper hand.

"What thea"?" Powell yelled as both he and the big man retreated a step and raised their shotguns.

Jeff felt a smile light up his face. He dropped to one knee, firing round after round into the woods where Tom had disappeared. The big deputy leapt on him, knocking the rifle from his hands.

"Hold your fire!" Powell shouted.

The woods around them were quiet and still.

"You idiots," Jeff said. "He was dead the instant the thing took him. We're going to be, too, if you don't get it together." He tore free of the big deputy's hold on him and reached for his motion sensor. Jeff cursed when he saw its screen was shattered.

The two deputies were on edge and kept their weapons aimed at the trees. The short one, Powell, had discarded his weapon in favor of Tom's M-16.

"What exactly is out here with us, Taylor?" he demanded.

"You b.l.o.o.d.y well know what it is!" Jeff snapped, trying to decide whether to make a run for it or stay and use the officers as bait in the hopes he could get a clear shot at the thing.

"Do you think it's gone?" the big deputy asked.

Tom's headless corpse came flying at them from the trees as if in response to the question. It struck the big man, knocking him from his feet. Powell opened up on full auto, spraying the direction it came from while Jeff ducked low, swiveling his head to take in the rest of the area where they stood.

The monster would have guessed how they would react and antic.i.p.ated Powell's retribution.

Jeff saw no sign of the thing. "Stop," he yelled. "Stop it. You're just wasting ammo."

Powell ceased fire, looking at Jeff as if he was completely insane.

"It's gone," Jeff said, disappointed.

Brent hurled Tom's decapitated body off of him and rolled over vomiting onto the weeds. The coach's body was badly damaged. The ivory white of broken bone protruded through his skin in multiple places where the thing had clutched him. Blood poured from the top of his neck. Brent's shirt was covered in it.

"We need to move," Jeff said. "Without my motion sensor, we're sitting ducks out here."

"All right," Powell conceded, helping Brent stand. Brent appeared rather shaken up and Jeff didn't blame him.

"This way." He led them back toward the Taylor farm. "The next time someone dies, we have to make sure it does, too."

By the time they reached the cars even Jeff was sweating. Powell appeared on the verge of collapse. While the man tried to catch his breath, he motioned for the other deputy to get on their patrol car's radio.

"It has our scent now," Jeff said. "If it's angry enough, it'll come after us as long as we're not in town."

"Sorry, man," Powell said to Jeff.

"For what?"

"For thinking you were off your rocker."

A roar erupted from somewhere deep in the woods. The deputy jerked up his M-16 and aimed at the forest. Jeff barely managed to stop him before he squeezed the trigger. "Don't. You can't hit it. Besides, that M-16 is likely only going to tick it off more if you do. It would take a really b.l.o.o.d.y lucky shot to get a clean kill with that weapon."

Jeff popped open the trunk of his rental car and grabbed a grenade.

Powell's eyes bugged out. "What are you doing?"

"Buying us some time to get away from this place." Jeff pulled the pin and wound up like a pro pitcher and hurled it into the trees. A moment later, fire, dirt and splinters came through the woods. The explosion hurt his ears. He was playing a hunch the explosion would scare the sasquatch off or at least give it pause. They were in no position to make a stand if it came charging at them.

Brent already had the patrol car running. "Get in!" he shouted.

Jeff and Powell hopped inside as it peeled away and the car took off out of the drive, speeding toward the main road into town.

Becca Becca felt stupid. A man died in her town last night and here she sat Googling facts about Bigfoot. This wasn't why she'd ran for the sheriff's office. Things like Bigfoot weren't supposed to be real yet all the evidence pointed to the creature or something like it living in the forest surrounding Babble Creek. She knew Powell and Brent hadn't radioed in yet or Gab would have let her know about it. She was beginning to get worried about them, despite Powell's normal tardiness.

According to her research so far, Bigfoot was peaceful and only attacked if angered or threatened. The creatures tried to steer clear of humans as much as the zealous folk who believed in them tried to prove they existed. Some of the facts about them were disturbing. Some sources said the males could weigh two thousand pounds and possessed the strength to throw half their weight. Their muscle density was much higher than that of even the toughest bears and some reports claimed they could reach speeds of over forty miles per hour. If one of those things was really out there, they were in serious trouble. The thing would be next to impossible to stop without risking the lives of her officers. She considered radioing the department over in Macon for a.s.sistance, but decided against it. She already took c.r.a.p from them for being a woman; she didn't want them to think she was crazy, too, if there was a more rational explanation to the attacks.

She shoved her chair away from the desk and closed her laptop. She was tired of sitting and waiting to hear something.

Becca was en route to the old Taylor place when she got the call from Brent on the radio. The deputy's voice was frantic as he told her they'd found Taylor and that the Babble Creek monster was real. He and Powell had Taylor with them and were heading to the department to regroup.

The road was deserted as she drove, a byproduct of living in Babble Creek. Everyone was either at home with their families or getting ready for the week ahead except those at church who wouldn't have let out yet. She steered her car to the edge of the road as she saw Powell's car heading toward her. As soon as it pa.s.sed, she whirled her own car around to follow it back.

Becca pulled into the department's parking lot behind them. She stepped from her car and stormed over to Taylor as he and her deputies were getting out. She slammed him against the side of their vehicle. "What is that thing, huh? Two people have been killed in my town in less than forty-eight hours. I want answers and I want them now!"

Jeff Taylor stared at her. "You already know exactly what we're dealing with, don't you, Sheriff?"

Becca released him and turned to Powell. He was a wreck and in the process of lighting up a cigarette from the emergency pack he'd kept in his car ever since he quit the nasty habit over a year ago. "Becca . . ." he said, "we're going to need some bigger guns."

Becca, Powell, Brent, and Warren gathered with Jeff in her office. Gab was busy making them coffee and keeping watch over the phone in case a report of the monster came in.

"Mr. Taylor, you have no idea how much I would like to lock you in a cell and book you for Tom's murder, but as it stands, we need all the help we can get."

Powell cut in. "Gab gave Justin and his little gang a call. They should be here with the dogs soon."

Becca nodded her acknowledgment and continued. "What exactly are we dealing with? Is that thing really a sasquatch?"

"Yes," Jeff said. "I believe it is, or it's so close it doesn't matter. It's old, been in these parts a long time. If you flip through your files from the past two decadesa"now that you believea"you'll see evidence of that."

"I thought Bigfoot was peaceful," Warren said.

"They're supposed to be." Becca cut her gaze to Jeff, looking for an explanation.

"This one's not," he said. "For whatever reason, this one is feral. It's a born killer. The thing enjoys toying with its prey."

"Does it really matter?" Powell said. "What matters is, how do we stop this thing?"

"You're not going to tonight without a lot of people dying," Jeff said. "In the woods, it already has too many advantages over us without adding the cover of darkness. I suggest we wait until morning and go in with only the most experienced hunters you have. Simple numbers aren't going to work. It'll just pick us off one or two at a time as it feels like it until we get lucky."

"This thing is huge." Brent shifted on his feet where he stood in front of Becca's desk with the others. "Do we even have anything that can take it down with a single shot?"

"That's a good point," Becca said. "The department's shotguns, AR 15s, and Glocks aren't hard-hitting enough. They're not going to get any real penetration."

"I am sure Fred has something we can use to go along with Mr. Taylor's .30-.06. They're a lot of hunters that live in this town. Rounding up some firepower shouldn't be a problem," Powell said.

"Take Warren and get on it," Becca said.

Powell looked like he didn't want to leave. He was the ranking deputy and wanted to be a part of the planning, but he reluctantly led Warren out of the office.

Becca turned to Jeff. "What about traps? Could we rig up something to stop it?"

"Sure, but the thing is smart, too. It's been living near humans and killing them for a very long time. It'd be a long shot to bag it that way, but we could try," he replied. "There's three grenades left in my car. We could pick them up and set some tripwires."

"Whoa," Brent said. "Why don't we just call in the National Guard? Heck, the Macon department has a helicopter and more manpower than us. We don't have to do this on our own."

"Yes, we do." Jeff walked to stand directly in front of the big man. "Do you really think anyone else would take this seriously, no matter what we told them? They'd screw it up. People would die, or worse, we could scare the thing into hiding for a few months then all this would just start again later with the thing more angry than ever. It has to believe it can take us or we'll have lost before we even started. We're not going to find it unless it wants us to or it comes after us."

"All right," Becca snapped. "We go in at dawn with the biggest guns we can find and show this thing whose town this really is. We do this ourselves and fast. Understood?"

No one challenged her. They all knew she was in charge. As far as Babble Creek was concerned, her word was the law.

Powell As the sun rose above Babble Creek, a convoy of cars followed by a beat up pickup truck, with a bed full of dogs, and an expensive, high cla.s.s SUV came winding up the road toward the old Taylor farm where Jeff's rental car waited. The line of vehicles came to a halt in the large area of gravel around it. The entire Babble Creek sheriff's department along with Jeff, Taylor, and Justin with Fred and Terry were soon standing staring into the trees at the edge of the Taylor land. Everyone was armed. Becca, Powell, Justin, and Jeff carried high-powered rifles which were in theory capable of scoring a clean kill with a single shot. The others carried shotguns and AR 15s. Each officer also had their standard issue Glock 40 sidearm in holsters at their sides.

Fred tightly held the leashes of the finest hunting dogs in the county. The department often used them for search and rescue. Today, the dogs were not only trackers, but also an early warning system for the thing that lurked somewhere deep within the forest. Jeff had argued fiercely they should all stay together, but Becca had decided to split them off into smaller units with Powell's group, which contained Fred and the dogs, in the lead. The other two groups were going to flank Powell's, staying a little bit back to both widen their search and serve as reserves in case Powell wasn't able to take down the monster when or if it came after them.

Powell slapped Fred on the shoulder. "Lead the way." He and Warren followed Fred and his dogs into the trees. They definitely had the scent of something and started tugging them along.

About a half hour later, the dogs came to a dead halt. Their excitement and eagerness suddenly changed into a reluctance to move forward at all. The smallest of the four dogs tucked its tail between its legs and began to whimper.

Fred looked spooked by their behavior. "I have never seen them act like this before."

Powell took the radio from his belt. "Becca, I think we've got something."

Warren stood watching the trees, his knuckles white from the death grip with which he clutched his AR 15. "Powell," he said quietly, "I hope you're ready."

Powell raised the high-powered rifle to his shoulder. The scream scared him so badly he almost squeezed the trigger. There was no question that it belonged to Becca . . . but Becca never screamed. It wasn't in her nature. Warren was already darting through the forest in the direction it came from. "Wait!" Powell shouted after him. Fred stood looking at him, as if waiting to see what he was going to do. Powell cursed, lowering his rifle. "Follow the idiot!" he said, taking off after Warren.

Powell arrived in time to see the thinga"he had no better word for ita"catch Warren as it emerged from the trees, and lift his fellow deputy from the earth with a single hand. It flung Warren several yards through the air. The man struck a thick tree trunk head first with a sickening thud and the loud snapping of bones. Warren fell to the earth, his face a b.l.o.o.d.y ma.s.s of pulped and torn flesh, and lay still. Powell guessed the thing was easily ten feet tall. Muscles rippled under brown fur as it angled its head back and roared like an angry bear. Powell almost wet his pants from the sound of it. The roar was so fierce and primal, it sent chills through him, but he forced himself to stand his ground.

Becca was sprawled on the ground in front of it. Her Glock 40 spit empty casings as she fired again and again into the thing's stomach with no apparent effect. The upper half of Terry's body lay beside her. Intestines dangled from the torso's bottom where legs used to be. Amazingly, Terry was still alive. His face was pale, contorted in a mask of pain. A rifle cracked and a bullet ripped into the monster's shoulder, splattering blood into the air.

Powell saw Jeff taking aim for a second shot. Brent, Justin, and Gab came running into the clearing behind the monster. Brent's shotgun thundered. The slug slammed into the thing's back and left a patch of red trickling through its fur, but Powell saw the shot hadn't done any real damage; it had just made the creature more angry.The monster whirled on the newcomers. It charged them, covering the distance with only a few long strides. Gab sprayed it with a continuous stream of fully automatic fire from his AR 15. It backhanded Gab as it pa.s.sed him and headed for Justin in the center of their group. The side of Gab's head folded inward from the blow as he was knocked from his feet. Gab's left eyeball dangled loosely from its socket attached by a thin piece of flesh as his body lay twitching in the dirt. Powell watched, still trying to get a good shot, as Brent leapt onto the thing. Brent grabbed the monster under its arms and tried to pin them in a type of lock Powell had seen professional wrestlers use. The creature was far too strong and ripped Brent off of it easily, batting him away like a fly.

A round from Jeff's rifle hammered its way into the creature's back. It staggered from the pain of the gaping hole left by the high-powered round as Justin put a bullet into its chest. At last, Powell found his shot and took it. His rifle kicked against his shoulder as blood and brain matter sprayed into the air from the back of the monster's skull. The thing lumbered forward a few steps and fell into the dirt, causing Justin to leap to the side to avoid being crushed by its corpse.

Becca was on her feet, loading a fresh clip into her Glock. She walked straight up to the thing, aimed between its eyes, and emptied the pistol point blank. When the gun clicked empty, she moved out of the way and motioned for the others to make sure the thing was dead. Powell followed suit as Jeff and Justin popped off a few more shots into the thing's body. Its huge form lay unmoving in a pool of its own blood. Its eyes were gone, replaced by bullet-scarred holes from Becca's Glock. Deep red and b.l.o.o.d.y holes covered its body. Powell lowered his rifle. Becca sank to her knees with an expression of relief, looking very much happy to still be alive.

Jeff, however, closed in on the thing and placed the barrel of his rifle directly onto the thing's forehead. He pulled the trigger, sending a crack of thunder into the air.

Fred was nowhere to be seen.

Becca Hauling the sasquatch out of the woods was anything but an easy task. Becca was forced to wait until a four-wheeler could be brought up from town and a makeshift sled built for the thing's corpse so they could get the body to the vehicles at the old Taylor farm. Loading it onto Fred's pickup was an even worse ordeal. They covered the body with a tarp. Becca wasn't ready for Babble Creek to know monsters like this actually existed. She and Powell decided to take the corpse to Lauren. She at least was going to have to know. There was no way around it.

There were Terry, Gab, and Warren's bodies to deal with as well. Were it not for the stink thanks to the hot sun, she would have waited until nightfall to try to smuggle the thing through town, but she was forced to come up with a cover story of a rogue grizzly to explain the deaths and what rested underneath the tarp. It made sense and was something she hoped no one who lived in the town would question.

Brent was banged up from the battle. The fact he had just wrestled hand to hand with a sasquatch and wasn't hurt worse was a miracle in itself. Becca sent him ahead as soon as the bodies were loaded then radioed the ER to expect him. She noticed Fred was still looking uncomfortable. She a.s.sumed it was because of his cowardice. They had found him waiting with the dogs when they first came out of the woods. There was no point in making an issue of it and the others seemed to agree. No one railed him out for it. Everyone was in kind of a state of shock, she figured, except for Jeff. He gave the appearance of a man who had fulfilled his purpose in life. His demeanor was almost jubilant. He sat in his car, partly leaning out the driver's side window as he watched the others get ready for the trip back into town.

"Mr. Taylor," she said as she walked over to where he sat.

His head swung around in her direction. "Sheriff," he said, getting out and standing up.

"You'll be leaving tomorrow." Becca made sure the words did not come across as a question.