Encounter

The campfire flickered in the dusk as the small party gathered around it tried to make sense of their day. An acute uneasiness filled the air while one man smoked a cigar watching the two women sitting between two other men. The glow from the fire revealed glances of concern as they nibbled on high-energy bars from the emergency backpack. A splashing murmur from a nearby creek sounded over the snips and cracks of the campfire.

“A week, damn it! We’ve spent a week out here. So we’ve run into trouble. I don’t see what there was in a mere circular print on a rock-ledge to make your men behave like that,” said Doctor Bashar in a voice as dry as his entire personality.

“You might have noticed the condition of the bodies,” Andersen, the lead guide and hunter, replied sarcastically.

Bashar glared at him, then picked up a twig, then made a crude map on the ground.

“As I understand it, we only have about fifteen miles to go. Since I have thirty days to complete the contract with Mr. Yoo, I say we continue. Those men are your responsibility and we’ve got too much…”

“Quit your bitch’in,” Andersen’s anger grew. “You can draw a map, but it’s not telling you we’re in the middle of nowhere. My men stumbled into something that ain’t natural. We’re just damn lucky your wife wanted to hang around by the creek so her sister could take more photographs. Otherwise, we’d be in the same condition as those corpses.”

Bashar’s eyes narrowed.

“Yes, perhaps, but we don’t know, do we? We only have your assurances. Which reminds me, you shouldn’t have exposed the women to that scene,” he said.

“Next time, you can cover their eyes. Death comes to everyone. You can’t hide it just because you think they’re weaker.” Andersen glanced at the women. “Anyway, let’s get back to a plan. We lost three good men. Worse, our ATVs are now worthless hunks of metal. That means we’re walking out of here.”

“Are you sure we can’t fix those vehicles?” Bashar asked.

Laughter from Jones caused the two men to look at him. The young man, who called himself a cultural journalist, shook his head.

“Are you crazy? Mechanics in a shop couldn’t fix those ATVs and we’ve got no spare parts. Must have been a grizzly to rip off those gas tanks like that. That’s why our food is mostly gone.”

Jones nodded at Andersen, who nodded back at the sudden support. What Andersen didn’t point out was that fact no animals touched the food. Nothing on earth would turn MREs into blackened lumps of what looked like frozen coal.

“Everyone saw the supplies that were left in our backpacks. The way I figure it, we’ve got about a week’s worth of food. The good news is that we can hunt for game. Still, we — well, we’re at least twenty-five miles back to the nearest road. If we continue on to your destination. Your experiment at the mine will have to wait unless you want to die before you arrive.”

“I don’t see why you can’t call in for more supplies. Our contract stated you’d guide us to the Sink Creek experimental station. Also, the contract stipulates emergency protocols. We’ve trusted…”

“Christ, check your damn cell phone. Do you see any signal?” the hunter reached into his pocket, pulling out chewing tobacco. “Our emergency Sat phone was in the destroyed supplies, so we’re not getting any help here. Maybe we’ll find help…”

He pulled open the pouch and stuffed a wad of the black leaves into his mouth.

“I really hope it’s not what I think!” Andersen muttered, mostly to himself.

While ignoring the academic’s continued rant about the contract with his company, Eagle Nest Guides, Andersen rubbed the end of his long mustache in thought. He pushed back his wide-brimmed leather hat, which showed a normal sorrowful expression. Steven’s sunbaked face grew darker as he considered their options.

Feeling someone staring, he noticed Basher’s wife, Marie. She suddenly asked a question. Her model-like face expressed disgust as she recalled the scene from a few hours before.

“What really happened to our guides? I heard someone scream about red eyes. I’ve never heard of someone with wounds like that. Their brains — the screams and shots. What creature kills a human like that?”

Andersen glanced over, briefly wondering why she and her sister were there. For the last week, they traveled like fashionable hiking models in their attire, obviously designed for the suburbs. Their backpacks contained nothing designed for this deep in the wilderness over an extended time.

Apparently, this academic and his two tag alongs expect a comfortable hotel at the end of the line.

Well, I promised them no issues to the mine if we took the ATVs! He thought ruefully.

“I can’t say for sure, ma’am,” he finally shrugged. “At first, you might think of a grizzly or wolves. But my men were only about a mile away, so we should have seen something. Whatever got them only ripped open the skull. I can guarantee you it wasn’t any pack of wolves that did that, nor grizzlies. Those animals would go for the belly first.”

“You appear confident in that assessment,” the woman replied. Her tone showed her skepticism about his answer.

“Well, I’ve grown up here. Been guiding hunters all my life, so I’ve seen what carnivores leave behind,” he explained. “Besides that, the prints only showed those circular holes. Those footprints we saw aren’t from anything living around here.”

“As you Americans say, that’s bullshit,” Bashor stated. “You will not scare me away from this gold mine that’s waiting for us. My maps and analysis are correct.”

“I don’t care about your damn analysis. I think we’ve got something hunting us.”

“Why would some creature want to hunt us?” Sandi Wyler suddenly asked.

“Seriously?” the academic rolled his eyes at the woman’s question. “Wild creatures will hunt humans. But we all know that they’re afraid of fire and we have guns to protect us.”

“I’m not talking about wild creatures. He already said they’re not from here.” The woman calmly replied while typing away on her phone.

Andersen gave her an incredulous stare. The girl remained mostly quiet during the entire trip; her attention focused on her smartphone. The guide did not know why she continued to type into her phone, since there was no cell service coming to this remote area of Montana.

She looked over at him.

“I overhear you mention you know what happened. Why don’t you tell us?” Her tone remained even.

After a deep breath, the guide fudged his reply.

“Well, I’ve heard about things like this happening when I was a kid. My dad warned me about the strange killings with broken skulls which happen along Gold Creek. It occurs every twelve years, if I recall correctly. I remember seeing remains of cattle with the same type of wound as my men. Whatever got them will come looking for us. We need to forget about going to that mine and head back.”

“Nonsense,” Bashar stated. “I remember reading about a tiger in India that hunted humans because it got smart enough to figure out patterns in the local tribe’s movements. I’m sure that’s what’s happened here. My hypothesis is a bear did the same thing. Probably thinks brains are a delicacy.”

“Dear, that’s gross!” Marie complained.

“I’m sorry, but it’s a fact that humans killed and ate the brains of other humans since we came out of the trees. Often, it’s obtaining the soul or the spirit of the individual.” He smiled at his wife. “However, I’m sure a wild animal like a bear doesn’t have a clue about a spirit.”

“Your hypothesis is missing the fact that there were no bear tracks,” Andersen replied.

“Then, are you suggesting something we’ve never seen before?” The drool way the academic stated the question made the hunter frown.

“Well, there are things we don’t know about in this world, or outside of it.” Andersen suppressed the urge to smack his employer.

“Ooh, so it’s monsters or E.T.!” Jones mocked him. “Except it only shows up every twelve years. Next, you’ll be telling us stories about the native legends. It’s so cliché.”

Andersen remained quiet, looking at the people around him.

“Come, Marie. We will set up our tent,” Bashar stated with a sigh.

“Before you do that, we need to set up a night watch,” Andersen warned. “We’ll need to keep a lookout unless you’re comfortable sleeping if that thing comes back.”

The academic looked back as he took his wife’s hand.

“Mr. Foo and I aren’t paying you, so I can stand watch,” he stated. “Despite your clumsy attempts to dissuade us, we will continue to Sink Creek.”

Andersen remained quiet, spitting in the man’s direction as he and his wife went over to a level spot and pitched their tent. While they worked, he heard Jones.

“Hey, Andersen. I have a theory. Maybe your men went loco and freaked out? I remember seeing an old western where people go crazy after drinking contaminated water.”

The guide glared at him, then realized Jones sincerely believed what a movie showed him. With a sigh, he shook his head while recalling the gruesome scene.

“No, water didn’t do that. Something scared them. They weren’t shooting wild, even though we didn’t see any blood. I just don’t think their bullets did anything. But they’re all three dead now. To me, that’s the final warning for us to leave. We’re in bad enough shape with just a couple of rifles for protection.”

“Don’t worry about it, Grizzy Adams!” Jones suddenly chimed in. “I got the rest of the tech in my bag.”

“I wish we could have grabbed another rifle,” the guide mumbled.

However, Jones, who called himself a cultural journalist, focused on the young woman across the campfire from him. He lifted his arm to expose the device around his wrist.

“Sandi, if you like the mountains here, Tibet will amaze you. I used this bad boy over in the mountains. It’s got a compass, gyroscope and barometric altimeter,” he continued. “It supports multi-GNSS satellite. I can get out of any place with this and a map. In a way, this kind of reminds me of my time in Tibet.”

Jones launched into an account of his time in the mountains with Sherpa guides. The young woman faintly smiled at him, which encouraged his rambling story. Andersen rose from his position and stepped over to the journalist, who was filming him the whole time with his phone.

“You and the lady better get your tents up and grab some sleep. It’ll be a long night. Since nobody volunteered, I’ll take the first shift. The lady gets the second and you get the dog watch.”

Jones stared up with a brief scowl, then glanced at Sandi, who stared at Andersen.

“There you have it; our guide is nervous.” The journalist turned off his camera app. “You’ll have to give me some more of those nasty Native American legends we’re supposed to worry about.”

“I’ll tell you all about it in the morning if we survive the night.”

There was an unpleasant smile on the man’s face as he stared down at Jones. The journalist recognized Andersen’s dark scowl meant trouble if he kept up the mocking.

“Alright, alright, I get it. We need to have a watch. It was the same in Tibet with our guides.” Jones lifted himself to his feet to face Andersen. “Maybe you’re being a nanny, but you’re right about us being in the middle of nowhere. Who knows, all the timber they’ve hauled out of here might have stirred up something.”

He grinned at the guide.

“Maybe it’s Bigfoot?”

The journalist put away his phone, grabbed his backpack and began putting up his pup tent close to the Bashir’s. Andersen unleashed his tent from his pack, then pulled out his Remington 700 rifle from the attached gun case. He quickly inspected the weapon, then loaded a bullet into the chamber by the firelight. Ensuring the safety was on, he noticed Sandi watching him. Her expression still held a shocked indignation, but he noticed a hint of fear as she stared at the rifle.

“What’s your problem?” He asked.

Sandi looked like she changed her mind before she spoke.

“Who said I was getting up in the middle of the night? That’s your job.”

He glared at her.

“I let the man paying the bills slide, but you’re just excess baggage with no weapon. You can continue to pretend you’re sending messages on your phone, or you can get some sleep. We need fresh eyes to warn us if that thing comes this way.”

“How do you know it’s a thing?” Her tone revealed her disdain for the idea.

“I don’t, but something intelligent left tracks. And I enjoy living, don’t you?”

To his surprise, Sandi didn’t continue to argue. Instead, the woman got to her feet in a huff and dragged her backpack over near Jones’ tent. Andersen didn’t pay any attention to Sandi’s muttered cursing as she worked. However, the man noticed how quickly Jones stepped up to help her. He couldn’t hear what they talked about, but he didn’t care much. His head was splitting from a headache. With a grunt, Andersen started pacing around the edge of the campfire light with his rifle slung over his arm.

After a quiet night and plenty of grumbling the next morning from the tired group, Andersen carefully circled the area. As he looked for prints, he stopped occasionally to get his bearings while observing the terrain. Like Jones pointed out the night before, their position was between a forest wilderness which extended for miles. On the other side sat a large parcel of nearly barren acreage, stripped of trees by a timber company. Next year, the company would plant pines to replace what they took out. Still, the landscape gave off hellish vibes, with the occasional dead tree sticking up like pieces of a bleached skeleton exposed to the sun.

As Andersen made his way back, he saw the two women in an intense discussion with Bashar. Jones was packing while listening in to the conversation from the look on his face. The guide already knew the reason for the conversation. He told Bashar he was heading south, back to the road. Despite repeated threats and curses, some of which Andersen couldn’t understand, the academic threatened to go it alone. With a shrug at the announcement, Andersen told Marie to talk sense to her husband, and he left the camp.

That’s when Andersen discovered the prints again. He kneeled by the print, a strange-looking ring about the size of his hand with a cup-shaped depression along with a raised center. The hunter scanned the path, which showed five prints in a strip of mud heading south. Given the number, size of the prints and depth, he estimated two of the creatures, probably larger than a human. However, the nature of the print revealed something else strange. No claws or pads, only a slick surface that did not pick up the mud.

“What’ve you got?” Jones said as he approached.

“You tell me,” the hunter replied after he spat the juice of his tobacco.

After showing the journalist the trail and what he observed, Jones whistled lightly.

“Yeah, that’s figgin weird. What do you want to do?”

“Well, the boss insists on going north to that damn mine. It appears this thing is going in the other direction. I guess that’s the best we can hope for.”

“That’s good! I didn’t want to lead them north on my own. I don’t think he believed you’d abandon us at first. You won’t believe some words he was calling you after you left camp,” Jones snorted. “I noticed his English gets pretty lively when he’s mad.”

The man rubbed the back of his neck, rolling his head. Andersen grunted at the news, but remained quiet.

“When I tried to tell him to listen to your advice, Bashar told me he also doesn’t like me getting so close to the women. I mean, I’ve been looking. Who wouldn’t! But he wasn’t so touchy when we started out.”

As he started back to get this pack, the journalist stopped him.

“Say, do you have any aspirin? I woke up with a hell of a headache.”

“No, you’ll need to get the first aid kit in Sandi’s pack,” Andersen said. He remained quiet about his own painful headache.

When they got back to camp, Bashar’s mood brightened considerably when Andersen told him he’d lead them to the mine. While Marie appeared upset at the choice, her sister showed little reaction. Instead, she went back to her phone.

On the long day of walking along the ridgeline, the group finally came to a stop as the sun set behind the mountains. Despite Andersen’ continued pushing, the pace kept slowing with frequent stops. Marie Bashar was not in shape for the journey and her husband wasn’t much better. Worse, the academic kept complaining about everything going wrong with his ire focused on Andersen. Marie had a couple of instances of vertigo, along with a headache, which she complained about. Jones stopped his filming long enough to walk with Marie, which did not go unnoticed by her husband. Andersen also noticed the look between them as they hiked together. He didn’t like the implications.

However, he kept quiet about the things he noticed. The guide decided the group was volatile enough without adding more fuel to the mix. He considered talking with Sandi. However, her constant focus on her phone forced him to reconsider when the woman almost stepped into a badger hole. After he warned her, she insulted him.

Disconcerted, he fell back, watching her figure move with a growing lust inside of him. His initial thought was to slap her, then take her to the ground. That strange mix of feelings startled him. He liked to consider himself calm and collected. Sure, he knew a man had thoughts of lust. But fantasies of subjugation, along with a nearly uncontrollable rage suddenly filling his mind, bothered him. He maintained his distance from her, concerned he might lose himself to the building anger that seemed to come from nowhere.

By the time they reached a ridge overlooking the dead valley of trees, Andersen couldn’t shake the suspicion that something was watching them. He also wondered about his own headaches. He didn’t believe in coincidences and there seemed to be a pattern. The feeling of unseen eyes watching them was already on his nerves. They needed a good rest, but a vague feeling told him they should keep moving even at night.

Doctor Bashar slumped to the ground; his vitality shot at the level area surrounded by pines. He put his lean hand to the base of his brain, rubbing the back of his head as if it ached. Andersen told him to get more water, and the man nodded absently.

Marie sat next to him, and she looked spent as well. Sandi and Jones stood nearby. Both appeared tired and even quieter than usual. Andersen kneeled by a tree stump, ignoring his headache, and nodded to a nearby stream.

“I’ll see if I can catch a few trout for dinner. Fresh grub might help us feel better. Jones, can you make sure we get wood for a fire and put up the tents?”

The journalist scowled at him but nodded. With a shrug, Andersen went to catch their meal.

When he arrived back at the camp, Andersen had nothing to show for his effort. As he broke down his fly rod, he complained to the others gathered around the fire. Finally, he let them know the truth about what he discovered.

“Nothing’s moving in the water and I didn’t see one animal around,” he said, his expression serious. “However, the biggest problem is the tracks we saw earlier are back.”

Jones stared at him while Bashar scowled.

“You’re not back on that again,” the academic said. “So you see some strange tracks? What’s that got to do with us?”

“There were friends of mine a few miles back who might have asked me the same thing. They got killed, or don’t you remember? If you’re a scientist, why aren’t you more interested?” Andersen wondered aloud.

“It’s funny, but when I think about it, we’ve not come across any animals,” Jones tried to interject.

“We’ve just scared them away. You should know that if you’ve spent time in the wilderness,” Bashar kept his attention directed at Andersen. “Mr. Yoo was a fool to sign a contract with you.”

Andersen leaned back against a dead tree, pulling out a wad of tobacco. His normally calm demeanor quickly faded away.

“You know, I can always let you go on you own? Let’s see who lasts the longest out here,” he smirked, then filled his cheek.

“Must you do such revolting things?” Marie joined the conversation and Andersen glared at her.

“Mind your business and I’ll mind mine,” he replied, then spat on the ground.

“Apologize to my wife,” Bashar barked.

“Go to hell!” Andersen rose to his feet. “You know, I’ve had my fill of you. You keep slowing us down, then act like you’ve got a clue. If you’re man enough, step this way and we’ll settle this.”

The academic got to his feet and started toward the larger man. Marie pulled him back while Sandi suddenly broke out in laughter. Everyone looked at her.

“Look at you two, getting all manly,” she mocked them. “Is this what happens when men lead the pack?”

Bashar and Andersen backed off, each of them staring daggers at the young woman.

“Oh, don’t give me that look.” Sandi’s eyes never wavered as she stared at Andersen. “Who are you trying to impress? The ‘Me Tarzan’ routine is long gone, or haven’t you heard?”

“Well, what can you expect from Grizzly Adams?” Jones joined in. He was obviously trying to stop the escalation. “Come on, let’s get some food. I’m hungry.”

Andersen said nothing. Instead, he went to his pack and pulled out his rifle before hoisting his pack over his shoulders. With the weapon slung over his arm, the guide headed off into the night.

“Say, where are you going?” Jones got to his feet.

“Oh, let him go,” Sandi purred. “He’ll come running back. He needs the money.”

“Are you an idiot? He saved your butt, because you’re living on that stupid phone. You twist an ankle out here and you’re nothing but food for wolves. I’m not carrying your ass.”

The journalist took off after Andersen. It took a while to catch up to the man, who showed no hesitation as he avoided the limbs that Jones kept running into.

“Hold it, stop!” He panted at the guide.

“She was wrong. Don’t quit on us. We need you,” Jones pleaded.

Andersen turned back.

“I thought you could use your fancy watch to get out of any place!”

“Alright, I deserve that,” he caught his breath. “Listen, I’m confident in my skills to navigate, but I know I can’t get us out of here on my own. They barely listen to you. Besides, I’m not good with a gun. If I understand what’s happening, we might need those rifles.”

Jones lifted his hands behind his head, taking another gulp of air.

“We’re all running on short tempers. At times, even you seem pretty out of it. Don’t let that get to you. Come back to camp,” he asked.

Andersen stood there for a moment, his partially hidden face not revealing his expression.

“Are you still getting headaches?” He asked Jones.

“Wh — yeah. How about you?”

The guide nodded.

“Plus, other thoughts — I think something out there is doing this.”

Jones looked around the dark forest.

“Well — I’ll agree with you about that. Something’s not right. Like right now, there’s no sound. It’s the fall and we should hear the animals, right?”

“Yeah, it’s been puzzling me as well. You’ve been around this group before. Do they always act like this?” Andersen asked.

“I’ve been around Bashar, and he’s not acting right. Even Marie’s been saying things.” He shook his head, avoiding something. “If you come back, I’ll back you. I’ll stay up and do a watch as well.”

“Why?” Andersen stepped closer.

“What — well, maybe I trust you know this place. They are my employer in a way, and I can’t protect them without help.” He explained.

“That’s not enough of a reason,” Andersen pressed. “I still don’t get why you’re here.”

Amid the moonlight, breaking through the limbs, he noticed how the journalist’s expression while he grappled for an answer.

“If I’m honest, I’m using Bashar. I’m sure you saw my interview with him on my Internet channel.” He shook his head when he noticed Steven’s expression.

“No, probably not. Is there even Internet out here? Anyway, Sandi’s a fan and she got me in touch about this expedition. She also invited me, so I can’t really run out on her.”

“I would,” Andersen told him without a hint of compassion. “She would do that to the rest of us. So would the others. There’s a reason I’m still pissed off about my friends dying. Nobody cares about it but me. Hell, they keep acting like nothing happened because it wasn’t them. Clueless despite what’s coming.”

Jones cocked his head.

“You know more about this thing than you’re telling us. Don’t deny it. Now that I think back, you tried to get us out of here the day before your men died.”

Andersen nodded.

“I saw the tracks and so did my men. That’s why they were away from us. I asked them to get closer and identify what was there.”

The journalist almost said something, then stopped.

“Yeah, it’s my fault,” the guide admitted. “Still, I’m not dying to save anyone else. As Bashar will say, it’s not in the contract.”

Jones nodded.

“Then tell me what we’re up against.”

The hunter pushed back his hat as he came closer and leaned against a tree. He looked around, then let out a breath.

“Like I said, I’m not sure. But the things happening fit what I remember as a kid. My dad used to tell me about the Native Americans who claimed when the gods grew bored, they descended from the sky to feed upon the people. He said they came from the Taurus constellation every twelve years to wreak havoc of the land.”

“So, you’re saying their UFOs?” Jones’ skeptical tone caused Andersen to push away from the tree.

“Call it what you want. I just know that the people who lived this land long before us were afraid of these so-called gods. They claimed the gods stayed invisible in the night and observed those who wandered into their range. Those from the sky entered the minds of the people and forced them to do things. It’s been twelve years since the last occurrence. I remember dad said there were missing people.”

He shook his head wearily.

“Hell, I didn’t believe in this idea much until everything started happening to us. But it explains what happened to my men as well.”

“Seriously, don’t tell me you really believe this hocus-pocus superstition?” The journalist insisted.

Andersen shrugged.

“Explain why we have headaches each morning and throughout the day. Prove to me those tracks are something from nature. No animal I’ve tracked or hunted leaves such marks. And why don’t we have fish or other animals around? There was plenty of game on this path last year. Being skeptical doesn’t mean closing your eyes and ears to the evidence.”

He could see Jones didn’t believe him, but he was past caring about it.

“Well, let’s keep this to ourselves. Despite her attitude, Sandi kind of trusts you. I can tell. She’s a spoiled bitch, so if you say anything like this, she’ll think you’re crazy and that doesn’t help any of us.” The journalist replied after a moment. “We’ll you return and help us?”

“Even if you think I’m crazy?” Andersen smirked.

“Well, at least you’re honest about it,” Jones grinned. “Come on, I’m starving.”

When the two men returned to the camp, Sandi grinned in triumph. But Jones changed her expression when he told her they were doing shifts again that night to watch over the campsite. Her frustrated look made Andersen smile as he pulled out a ration packet.

Long after his watch, Andersen suddenly awoke.

“Yes, it’s time!”

He couldn’t place the voice he heard, and he looked around. The nearly dead campfire light revealed a silhouette of two people walking past his tent, which caught his attention. He immediately reached for his rifle and listened to the footsteps fade into the darkness.

Curious, Andersen crawled out of his sleeping bag and peaked out of the flap covering his tent in front. The first thing he saw was Sandi curled up in a fetal position by the fire. She had a rifle retrieved from the guides lying next to her.

Yeah, some watchdog!

Andersen heard the telltale sound of sticks snapping in the darkness. Hurrying out of his tent, he carefully followed the sound. As he got closer, the noises changed. He heard a zipper, then a fragment of mumbled conversation. Carefully getting off the path, the hunter let the soft pine needles mask his footsteps. Amid the faint outline still visible from behind him, he noticed movement. After a couple of more steps, he recognized the two participants.

Jones had Mrs. Bashar bent over, holding her arms back while he slammed into her from behind. The woman’s exposed breasts rocked back and forth. Jones’ face filled with a savage lust, far different from the laid-back expression the journalist normally showed. From the moaning delight coming from Marie, she was enjoying herself. Andersen slowly backed away, thinking they were stupid to do such a thing with her husband nearby.

“Primitives cannot control themselves!”

The voice again reached inside his mind, and Andersen looked around. A chill descended over him, and he had the unmistakable feeling of something very close by was watching him. Footsteps coming from another direction caught his attention. However, the noise suddenly stopped, overridden by the sounds of the pair moaning and gasping behind him.

Scowling, the hunter crouched and moved toward the footsteps he heard earlier. A blinding headache enveloped him, nearly sending the man to his knees. Forcing himself forward, Andersen fell against a tree trunk. Catching his breath, the pain subsided as he looked down. The flickering light of the campfire partially exposed the path leading back to the lovers.

To his astonishment, a footprint appeared next to him. A snap of a twig jolted Andersen, but not as much as the next footprint suddenly showing up a few feet away from the first. Another snap struck the man’s attention, keeping his eyes on the ground.

Something invisible stood only a few yards from the two lovers!

The man lifted himself, staring like a drunk at the unseen thing near him. Andersen lowered his rifle as the voice inside told him it was hopeless to resist. Lost in disbelief, he didn’t hear the footsteps come to a stop next to him.

“So, that’s where the slut is!”

The growling voice came from Bahar as he grabbed the rifle from Andersen’s hand. The jealous husband hurried toward his wife. He pointed the gun at the two people who remained focused on their pleasure, oblivious to the nearby commotion. Andersen came out of his trance, glanced down at his empty hand, then immediately tackled Bahar. However, the split-second delay allowed Bashar to squeeze the trigger.

Blam!

Andersen heard the blast of his rifle as he fell to the ground, along with Bashar. When the men looked up, they saw Jones holding Marie. Then, both of them slid to the ground. Blood spilled from across one of Marie’s breasts while her eyes stared at her husband.

“Sis!” Sandi’s voice rang out.

She ran by the two men on the ground and slid next to her sister.

Andersen grabbed his rifle away from Bashar while Sandi embraced Marie. The hunter noticed Jones rolling around on the ground, next to the two women. His pants still at his ankles, the journalist held on to his arm, moaning in pain.

“You fucking idiot!” Andersen told Bashar as he hurried over to the wounded.

“Primitive — jealousy and pain, delightful!” the voice inside Andersen’s mind suddenly stated.

The man ignored the voice. Instead, he pressed his hand over Marie’s wound while looking over at Jones, who whimpered in pain. The journalist had his hand covering his shoulder. Stevens immediately understood the high-powered bullet went through Marie’s body, deflecting into Jones’ shoulder.

“Bashar, get back to the camp and get the first aid equipment!” Andersen yelled as he tugged on Marie’s shirt.

Ripping away a strip of cloth, he handed it to Sandi, who held her sister from behind. Sandi appeared oblivious of the need to stop the bleeding as she kept telling Marie she was there for her.

“Get this pressure on her back wound!” the hunter snapped, getting Sandi’s attention.

She took the cloth while Andersen glanced back at Bahar. The academic was on his feet, slowly stepping toward them. The distraught, guilty expression replaced the hate of a moment ago.

“Damn it — ,” the hunter started cursing, but Bashar paid no attention to Andersen. Instead, he stared at his wife.

“How could…”

Andersen noticed the movement behind Bashar. Rather, he saw an indistinct, fleeting ripple appeared in the black background. Then the veil lifted. Momentarily, a black mass with red eyes flashed before going invisible as it moved behind the man, who continued to walk toward them. Instinctively, Andersen called out.

“Shit, look behind you!”

It was too late. Bashar’s eyes widen and Andersen watched as something lifted the man into the air. His arms and legs moved like a puppet on a string while his unmoving head held a shocked expression. The look suddenly changed, followed by a horrible crunch. As the man’s body intensely quivered, the top of half of Bashar’s skull disappeared. Blood flowed down the dying man’s face as Andersen stared in disbelief at the body hanging several feet off the ground.

His mind blank, Andersen automatically picked up his rifle with his bloody hand. The weapon slipped from his grasp. When the man looked down to grab the rifle again, he noticed Sandi staring up at the horrible sight, while Marie’s open eyes held no hint of recognition.

She was dead.

Anger filled Andersen. He quickly slid back the bolt, pushed it back in, then turned and fired at a point just above Bashar’s missing skull. A blinding flash struck the man just before he pulled the trigger. Still, his rifle fired.

An inhuman scream filled the air and Bahar suddenly dropped to the ground. His body fell face forward and the remnants of his brains spilled out on the ground. Towering over the body was a horrifying creature with long legs and skin like the bark of a tree. Bloody pincers hung down from an ant-like head with ruby eyes.

A split second later, Sandi suddenly screamed as pulled herself to her feet. Still, the distraught woman frantically backed away while dragging the corpse of her sister. Behind her, Jones scrambled to his feet and took off while trying to slide his pants up. Andersen pointed his rifle at the creature, only to see the thing disappear in front of him.

He fired anyway, immediately hearing a thump. Quickly cycling in another cartridge, his next shot appeared to miss, since he had heard no impact. However, the lethargy in his mind disappeared. The hunter stood there for a while, listening for anything beyond the struggling noises coming from Sandi as she continued to drag her sister’s body away.

Andersen took a few paces forward, carefully scanning the area, then kneeled at the spot where the creatures stood. It was too dark to see tracks, but he saw Bashar’s wide-open eyes. His twisted face still held a look of shocked disbelief. The top half of the man’s skull was gone, and grayish matter oozed from the cavity.

Son of a bitch!

Hastily, the man backed away and hurried over to Sandi, who stood over Marie. Tear stains covered the woman’s distraught face, with tears dripping down on her blood-stained shirt. Sandi still held her sister’s hand. He didn’t see Jones but expected the wounded man went back to the camp.

“We need to go. I’m not sure if I wounded it or not.” He told her while holding out a hand.

“Not without Marie,” she hissed.

“Fine, I’ll carry her back to camp,” Andersen replied.

It took a minute for him to persuade Sandi to let him take the dead woman back. Finally, Sandi let go of her hand and followed him. The hunter stopped when they reached the clearing, glancing back as the woman mumbled to herself. The death of her sister and shock of their encounter did something to her mental state.

Hell, it’s the same with me!

To his surprise, Jones wasn’t back at the camp. Andersen called over Sandi and had the woman pull out Marie’s sleeping bag. He placed the body inside. After they wrapped the bag around her, the guide got her attention.

“I’m going to go look for Jones. He must have passed out.” He put a wad of chewing tobacco inside his cheek.

“Leave him,” Sandi replied. “We have to leave — it’s.” She hesitated, like she wanted to say more.

“I’m looking for him,” he glared at her. “I won’t go far with that thing still out there. You can stay here with that rifle…”

“Did it talk to you?” Sandi rubbed her temples as she interrupted him.

He looked at her suspiciously, then realized the creature did the same to her.

“Yeah, the damn thing can’t be from this world,” Andersen stated as he handed the other rifle to the woman. “It’s saying things and staying invisible. I’m hoping I did some damage to the bastard. Stay here. I’m going to see if I can find Jones.”

“No! I’m coming along.”

He looked at her, debating the idea for a few seconds.

“Yeah, I guess that makes more sense.” The guide agreed, then went to his tent and pulled out a flashlight.

“We’ll see if we can find Jones. If we don’t find him soon, then we’ll get the hell out of here.”

Andersen led them in the direction he expected Jones to follow when he ran away from the creature. He glanced back to ensure she remained close. Sandi shook her head in pain, giving him an expression he didn’t recognize. But he disregarded the fleeting glimpse when he heard a man’s scream to their right.

With his rifle pointing toward the sound, Andersen waved Sandi closer.

“Have your rifle ready!” he whispered over.

The woman nodded as she came alongside.

After pushing past several young pines, they saw a beam of light ahead. A groan came to them as they stepped closer. Pushing under a branch, Andersen saw legs with a pair of boots dangling several feet off the ground. He knew it was Jones. The sickening familiar sound of a crushed skull reached him as he moved to get a better angle.

He saw the ruby eye above Jones. The dying man’s face was pale and contorted. Andersen quickly pointed his rifle at the red.

Blam!

Andersen felt the blow to his side when the rifle next to him fired. A second later, the hunter found himself falling over on his side. He stared at Sandi, who still pointed her rifle in his direction. Her shaking hands dropped the weapon, and she turned to face the creature.

“No!” he yelled at the thing feeding on Jones’s brain.

“Primitive — almost dangerous!” the voice inside Andersen’s mind spoke.

“Bastard, I got you the first time, didn’t I?” the man sneered aloud. “Feel the pain!”

He realized his first shot got the beast in the eye. It wasn’t invisible, but still terrifyingly dangerous. The monster took control of their brains with another message.

“Primitives — feed me.”

At the words, Sandi stepped forward. Andersen saw the struggle inside the woman as she fought to control her body. Blood spilled from her nose, and she forced her eyes toward the wounded man.

“In my mind — I saw what — it,.UGH!” Her desperate voice reached him. “Space — like insect!”

The man watched her while struggling to find his rifle with his arm. The woman screamed and fell to her knees.

“Acts like cicadas,” she panted. “Only comes o — ut. Please, kill me!”

Andersen couldn’t understand. He wasn’t dead. Sandi must have tried to keep from killing him. However, his arm and shoulder were numb. But the creature still hadn’t overpowered his mind yet.

The hunter watched as Sandi slowly made her way toward her death. The creature suddenly opened its pincer mouth and Jones’ body flopped down in front of her.

“Primitive — turn,” Andersen heard the words inside his mind as a blinding headache hit him again.

He twisted in response and the pain in his side released the hold the creature had on him. The hunter moved his over arm, sliding his hand to the grip. He pushed himself as he saw Sandi turn her body toward him, and the monster stepped behind her. It stanched the woman by the head and lifted her like the others.

Yelling because of the pain, Andersen rolled over on the other side of the rifle. He slid the weapon over his chest and pointed it at the beast. At the same time, he heard the sickening crunch of the woman’s skull. Again, she screamed for him to kill her; he pulled the trigger.

The bullet went through the woman’s brain and into the monster. It dropped her body and let out a screeching sound that filled the air and hurt his ears. After staggering on its five limbs, the otherworldly insect fell over on its side.

Andersen stared at the body for a moment, then looked at Sandi’s corpse. She saved him and he called her useless. However, he couldn’t save her.

I have to survive!

There were other creatures in the wild who would happily take down a wounded person.

The hunter struggled to his knees, forced himself to disregard the agony coming from his shoulder. As he reached over for the rifle, he noticed the ground next to it had a familiar mark. He looked up at the slight obscurity that briefly blocked the night sky above him.

“Fuck, there’s more of you?”

FINIS