Blood Blade

Chapter 3

“We’re here,” Sam said cheerily. “Get your stuff and head for the lodge.”

When he lifted his head, every muscle in Cole’s neck creaked like a bunch of gears that were trying to turn after being frozen in place. He, along with the rest of the men, jumped out and made their way outside amid a cavalcade of grunts and groans. The night was darker than anything he had ever seen. Even though the stars glittered overhead like diamonds on a jeweler’s cloth, that wasn’t nearly enough to put a dent in the inky blackness that had settled over the world. When he looked up, Cole thought he could see into eternity. When he looked back down, he could barely see the duffel bag that had been tossed to the ground near his feet.

“There’ll be food in the lodge,” Sam said.

Cole looked to where some of the others were headed and saw a large shack with smoke drifting up from the roof.

“That’s the lodge?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Brad said as he walked by. “Cozy, isn’t it?”

“Not exactly how I would describe it.”

Gerald was the next to walk by. He carried one pack over his shoulder and used a worn stick to keep his footing. “There’s food in there,” he said. “I can smell it.”

The quiet man was last. He didn’t seem to mind the cold as he lugged his bags slowly through the snow while looking carefully in every direction. When his eyes settled upon Cole, he stared him down until Cole looked away. Only then did the quiet man resume his shuffling journey toward the lodge.

“Jesus,” Cole muttered to himself. “This’ll teach me to buy a vacation without a real travel agent to yell at once I get back.”

The lodge turned out to be much better on the inside. A large fireplace took up a huge section of the wall opposite the front door. That way, the breeze from the door fanned its flames while providing immediate comfort from the cold. There was also a kitchen supplying food to three large tables set up in the main room. Seated at one of the tables was a woman with shoulder-length blond hair and a thick sweater that hugged her figure like a second skin. Another man stood next to the coatrack, bundling himself up before heading back into the cold. The two of them glanced at the front door and halfheartedly waved at the new arrivals.

“Beds are in there,” Sam said to everyone who walked into the lodge. He pointed to the only other room, which was to the right of the entrance.

Having served time in summer camp in his youth, Cole instinctively went into the other room to stake his claim on one of the beds. There were only six to choose from, and the frat boys had already picked theirs out. Cole dropped his duffel onto the bed at the opposite end of the room from the younger men and headed back toward the smell of food.

Brad made himself comfortable at the blonde’s table. Her legs were curled up beneath her, so she leaned one elbow on the table and used her free hand to play with some of the curls dangling from under Brad’s cap.

The cook was a burly man with a bald head and full beard. At the moment, he was setting up a row of wooden bowls in front of him. After the neat row was completed, he used a dented ladle to fill them. The smell drifting through the air told Cole that whatever was in those bowls was hot and tasty.

The quiet guy headed for the other room and stayed there.

“Come and get it while it’s hot,” the cook said.

Cole didn’t have to be asked twice, so he walked over to claim a bowl for himself. “What is it?” he asked.

The burly man replied, “Just beef and potato stew. It’s from my ma’s recipe, so if you got complaints, keep ’em to yerself.”

After taking a bite, Cole looked up and replied, “No complaints here. I just hope there’s more.”

The cook slapped Cole on the shoulder and walked back to the stove. “I got enough to feed a pack of wild animals in here.”

Cole went to a table and didn’t look up until he’d devoured half of his second helping. When he glanced around, he saw everyone scattered among the tables eating their meals. Naturally, the bros with the funny hats settled in at his table to regale him with stories of how many different ways they could drain a bottle and then fall down afterward. Looking around for a beam to hang himself, Cole realized that not everyone from the truck was there after all. Brad was still making good time with the blonde, but Gerald was nowhere to be seen. Cole pushed away from the table before his new buddies could start in on tales from spring break. After dropping his bowl off at the kitchen, he stepped out through the front door.

Gerald was outside, sitting beside an oil drum that contained a crackling fire. His hood was pulled up and cinched tightly around his face to protect him from a cold wind that cut like sharpened steel. In defiance of the fierce elements, Gerald remained focused upon a task that monopolized every bit of his attention. No matter how hard the wind howled, the older man kept his hands moving and his head low.

As far as Cole could tell, he was carving something into his walking stick. It had to be the same walking stick that Gerald had before, but Cole only now noticed the groves worn into the wood. Flickering light from the fire played across the intricate carvings along the thinnest section of the staff.

“It’s a lot warmer inside,” Cole said.

Gerald didn’t look up, but he did nod.

Cole took a few steps closer until he was able to reach out and warm his hands by the fire. “This fresh air is doing wonders for my sinuses. I’m from Seattle, so it practically takes a miracle to clear out the smell of coffee grounds from my clothes.” Laughing reflexively at his own joke, he noticed that his was the only voice drifting through the air. “That one usually goes over a little better.”

“Not with someone who was born in Seattle, I bet,” Gerald said sternly.

“Oh. Were you born there?”

Gerald kept his eyes fixed firmly upon the small knife in his hands as he smirked and replied, “Nah. Just keeping you on your toes.”

“Heh. Good one.”

Gerald ran coarse fingertips along the wooden staff that lay across his lap. Despite the beefiness of his fingers, he handled the jackknife the way a surgeon used a scalpel. While rolling the staff along the upper portion of his knees, he carved into the wooden surface in a constant flow of motion. Considering how thin the wood was on top and how hard he was working, it was a wonder to Cole that he didn’t slice the staff into bits.

After a few seconds of working quietly, Gerald asked, “You saw it, didn’t you?”

Cole kept his arms stretched toward the fire and looked around. “Saw what?” he asked.

“During the ride on the truck. You saw that thing that was following us.”

“I did?”

Gerald nodded and flipped the staff around so the clean end was closer to his jackknife. Probably because of the flickering firelight, that end now looked thinner than the one with all the carvings. “I saw you watching it. You were probably wondering how a thing that big could move so damn fast.”

Just as he was getting uncomfortable with the conversation, Cole made a connection in his head. “Oh! You mean those bears?”

Gerald nodded.

“There’s probably bears all over the place around here,” Cole said. “Good thing we’ve got that nut job with all the guns staying here with us.”

“I guess.”

“There aren’t any bears…you know…like, right around here, are there?” Cole asked.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you see for yourself?”

Cole looked up again and took some more time to study his surroundings. His eyes drifted toward the trees that encroached upon the cabin from the north. They grew there in a thick wall of large trunks that seemed to be as solid as the black shadows between them; infused with some ominous presence or possibly keeping one at bay. For a second, light from the fire seemed to catch a figure within one of those distant shadows. Cole rubbed his eyes and took another look just to be certain.

The figure was gone. Looking up, he noticed something in the darkness that could only have been reflections from the glittering array of stars over his head. “Looks safe to me.”

“Good,” Gerald said as he reached down and brushed away some snow to reveal a kit that was made from a few sheets of leather stitched together and unrolled into a mat. Various tools were kept in pockets specially made for them, ranging from picks and knives to things Cole hadn’t seen since his leather-working unit in shop class. Gerald was using the rag in his hand, stained by some sort of rust-colored polish, to smooth out some of the rough edges on the staff’s fresher carvings. The rag left behind a wet smear, which he wiped away until the polish had been worked into the grain of the wood.

“Where are you headed from here?” Cole asked. “Bear hunting?”

Looking up to the exact spot where Cole had seen those reflections, Gerald replied, “Ain’t no bears stupid enough to go where I need to be.”

Suddenly, the cold air and stilted conversation took their toll. Cole looked over his shoulder and saw the fire beckoning through the lodge’s front window. “All right, then. Good luck with that,” he said to Gerald. “I think I smell hot cocoa, so I’ll just leave you out here to polish your stick.”

As he turned and started walking toward the lodge, he heard Gerald getting up. It sounded as if the older man was having some trouble, or possibly losing his balance, which would account for the quick, heavy scraping. Heavy breathing drifted through the air, followed by the smell of turned soil and freshly cut timber. Even though he knew the older man would probably refuse any help, Cole turned around to offer it anyway.

“Go inside,” Gerald snapped before Cole had turned far enough to get a look at him. “Now!”

Cole turned away, but at the continued scuffling sounds, turned back to see a beast charging across the snow toward Gerald like a runaway tanker truck. It flew over the ground so quickly that its claws barely seemed to push all the way through the snow. Steam poured from its flared nostrils and spewed from a mouth filled with row upon row of jagged teeth, overwhelming his senses. The beast came to a stop a few yards from Gerald, its massive torso blotting out the moon and most of the stars.

“Holy shit!” Cole screamed as he leapt out of the creature’s path. His feet flew out from under him and he hit the ground with a solid thump. Breath rushed from his lungs, adding to the panic that had already washed over him.

Watching the scene as if somehow detached from it, he couldn’t decide just what the hell the thing was. It had the bulk of a bear, but with larger hind legs and longer front paws. Daggerlike claws curled from the ends of thick, gnarled fingers. It had a squat head with a long snout. None of its teeth extended at the same angle, and some had even ripped through the beast’s cheek as it opened its mouth to let out a rumbling, unearthly roar.

Whatever the thing was, it didn’t seem to be interested in him. After craning its neck to find Gerald, it charged straight toward the older man. Its upper body reared up and stretched outward at the same time in a constant flow of frenzied muscle. The left forepaw slammed down to grab hold of the earth while the right was pulled back toward its long, pointed ear. The older man was eclipsed by the enormous creature, turning his back to it while struggling to retrieve something from his kit.

Despite his better judgment, Cole opened his mouth and hoped something intelligible would come out. “Gerald! Look out!!”

The beast put its upper body muscles behind a mighty swipe of its front paw and lashed out, but Gerald was fast enough to roll away, so the thing only managed to kick up a spray of earthy snow. Letting out a thundering growl, it dug its claws into the ground as if to punish the spirits that had forged it and propped up the front half of its body with both front paws. Turning like a muscle-bound cougar, the beast shifted its weight to look at Cole.

A chill shot through Cole’s body as he wondered if he could gouge out one of the creature’s eyes before he was ripped into several pieces.

Then the beast opened its mouth and let out a roar that was even louder than the first. Saliva poured from the corners of its mouth and flew through the air as it lifted its head to the sky. Its roar then turned into a howl.

Cole scuttled toward the cabin like a crab before flipping himself over and jumping to his feet. When he turned around again, he caught a glimpse of Gerald rushing directly toward the creature, to drive the sharpened end of his walking stick into the meat behind its right shoulder.

The beast turned then, and took another swipe at Gerald with its left paw, but the older man managed to duck and roll out of its range. Now, Cole could see that Gerald wasn’t holding the walking stick he’d had before. The weapon in the old man’s hands looked like a longbow with a spearhead on one end.

As the creature swiped at him again, Gerald was quick enough to block the incoming paw with his weapon. Even more surprising than the old man’s speed was the fact that the wooden staff held up to the beast’s attack without exploding into a shower of splinters. His fists remained closed around the weapon as blood began to trickle from under his palms. Cole saw three tips protruding from the upper end of the staff. With this wooden trident in hand, Gerald gritted his teeth and drove all three points into the creature’s side.

Cole yelled for help. Footsteps pounded against the snow and he turned to get a look at who was coming.

Brad rushed outside, holding a short machete in one hand. “Get behind me!” he said.

Cole was breathing so quickly that he was getting dizzy. “I’ll bring help,” he wheezed.

“No! Just get inside the lodge and stay there. Tell the others to do the same.” With that, Brad charged the creature.

Massive paws thumped against the frozen ground and a savage growl gave voice to a hunger that was older than the dirt. Without knowing what else to do, Cole turned toward the lodge and ran for the doorway.

“What the hell’s going on out there?” the young guy in the jester cap asked. “What the fuck is that thing?”

“I don’t know what it is. Just—” When he saw Jester Cap’s eyes open wide and the color drain from his face, Cole quickly looked over his shoulder and saw the creature rushing toward the cabin with a feral spark gleaming in its eyes.

Cole shoved the kid aside and slammed the door. Unfortunately, the creature didn’t need a door. It tore through door frame and walls alike as if the eleven-inch-thick logs had been made out of cardboard. From there, it planted its front paws against the floor and tore up several planks before its eight-foot-long body came to a stop.

The quiet man emerged from the next room as if this was the moment he’d been waiting for. In one hand, he held a sawed-off shotgun, and in the other a large-caliber pistol that reminded Cole of something he might give to one of the characters from his games.

“Come and get it, motherfucker,” were the first words Cole heard from him since the beginning of the trip. Then the formerly quiet man pulled both triggers, filling the room with the roar of gunfire and the stench of burned cordite.

The creature grunted as bullets met its body. Although it lowered its head and winced, it barely seemed to acknowledge the ordnance that was being thrown its way. What started as a grunt turned into more of a sniffle as the smoke from the gun barrels drifted into its nostrils. Letting out a low, rumbling growl, the beast stalked deeper into the cabin.

From the corner of one eye, Cole could see a flicker of movement as the blond woman who had been talking to Brad emerged from beneath the front table and crawled to another table, away from the action. He rushed over to her, keeping his head down.

“What’s going on?” the blonde cried. “Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know.” Cole winced and pulled her closer to the floor as more gunshots blasted through the lodge. His ears were ringing, but he went through the motions of rubbing the woman’s shoulders and covering her with his own body. “It’s going to be all right,” he lied. “Everything will be all right.”

She didn’t take much comfort from his words, but didn’t seem overly panicked either. With all the growling and the gunshots, he realized that she might not have even heard him. They both kept their heads down, wincing at the sounds of the creature stomping so close to them. As much as Cole wanted to run, there was nowhere for him to go. The beast’s snarls seemed to come from every direction. Its steps rattled the floor of the entire structure.

Then the possibility of staying low and waiting out the storm was abruptly flung aside as the heavy wooden table was knocked off the ground and tossed across the room by a paw that swung through the air like the arm of a catapult. Claws reduced the table to splinters in midair, followed by a second set that sliced over Cole’s head, missing it by a scant few inches.

“Run!” he shouted.

The blonde’s face was drained of all color as she looked at him with the blank expression of a lamb that had already resigned itself to being slaughtered. Cole locked eyes with her and shouted once more.

“Run!”

She nodded quickly and started to move.

There was nowhere for him to hide, so he stood and chased the woman he’d just sent away. No more than four feet behind him the gun nut was shouting and firing round after round into the creature’s chest. Somewhere along the line, he had swapped out his first two guns for an automatic rifle of questionable legality.

The creature was on all fours now, tearing up chunks of the floor as its thick, shaggy limbs carried it forward despite the hot lead being thrown its way. Now that he was closer to the thing, Cole could see the taut layers of muscle heaped onto its shoulder blades. Judging by the damage done to the fur along its chest and ribs, those were the gun nut’s primary targets. The lower half of the creature’s body looked trimmer now. Its hind legs were planted firmly against the floor and it stretched its neck forward with jaws wide open, exposing glistening, crooked teeth. With one, snapping bite it turned its head sideways and clamped down on the gun nut’s chest.

Cole could only watch in horror. Hanging like a toy from the creature’s mouth, his eyes impossibly wide and his jaw strained open well past its normal limits, the man was unable to utter more than a strained, wet gasp. Still, he managed to slam the butt of his rifle against the creature’s head. It loosened its grip on him for an instant and then lunged forward again to sink its teeth into the man’s neck and shoulder. The automatic rifle let out a prolonged burst. Pieces of the creature’s coat smoldered and caught fire, but not one drop of blood was spilled. Finally, the beast shook its head from side to side until the body in its jaws simply fell apart.

Blood and flesh hung from its teeth as the creature reared up on its hind legs and clawed at the cabin’s roof, letting out a deafening howl. Then it dropped back down so it could nip at the fires on its back.

“We’ve got to leave,” Cole rasped into the blonde’s ear. “We’ve got to leave, and it has to be right now.”

Although she was close to hyperventilating, the blonde replied, “Back door…in the next room.”

“Let’s get outside and get to the woods,” Cole demanded. “Maybe we can lose that thing or get some help once we’re far enough away.”

That was all the blonde needed to hear. Keeping her head down, she gave the creature as wide a berth as possible as she rushed around it and headed for the door to the smaller room.

Cole followed her into the bedroom. When he caught sight of the two frat boys huddled in the corner, he snarled, “What the hell are you two still doing here?”

There was a roar from the main room followed by heavy steps as the creature stomped through a pile of wet human remains. The young snowboarders nodded as if their heads were coming loose and got to their feet. They had barely moved toward the smaller door that led outside when the light from the other room was blocked by the massive creature’s shaggy frame.

Crystalline, blue-gray eyes glittered in the shadow of the creature’s brow. A few persistent flames crackled from the fur on its back, but the monster let them burn while calmly assessing the contents of the smaller room. Those brilliant eyes fixed upon the college kids for a moment, causing Cole to step forward and shout as if trying to scare a stray dog off his porch.

The creature glanced at him only a second before baring its teeth and once more fixing its gaze possessively upon the fresh meat in the funny hats. A growl churned at the back of its throat before exploding into a blast of hot, fetid breath seemingly pulled from the bowels of hell.

The two boys jumped over the beds and raced for the back door. The creature reached into the room with one paw and tore through the spine of the one wearing the jester hat with one swipe. Before the creature could take another step into the room, it buckled and let out a high-pitched yelp. When it raised its head again, there was a fire in its eyes that made its previous rage pale in comparison.

Putting its back to Cole, it hunkered down and let out a growl that sounded like an approaching freight train. Cole shoved the blonde toward the back door but was reluctant to follow her. The second frat boy was already outside and running through the snow.

“Come on,” she whispered urgently. “This may be our only chance.”

He waved her off while backing into a shadowy corner. “Go ahead. There’s other people still in here.”

“They’re already dead or gone and there’s nothing you can do against that thing!”

“Gerald and Brad were doing something!” Cole barked. “Maybe I can too!”

The blonde wasn’t about to waste any more of her breath on him. With tears pouring from her eyes, she bolted through the back door and ran away.

The creature was standing with its back to the bedroom, but was close enough for Cole to feel heat from the fire that still sputtered in its fur. Then it shook like a dog coming in from the rain and extinguished the flames. It kept shaking until several small, dark objects fell from its thick layers of fur and clattered to the floor.

One of them rattled against the floorboards and rolled to within a few inches of Cole’s grasp. He snatched the object up, saw that it was a small chunk of warm metal that appeared to have melted. Then he realized the metal hadn’t melted, but had been squashed. Holding the object closer to his eye, he saw the distinctive shape of the back end of a bullet, along with the gnarled remains of a caliber marking. More of the flattened slugs rained down from the creature’s coat then, pelting the floor like hail. Since there wasn’t any blood on the floor or on any of the bullets, it seemed that the earlier gunfire had been wasted.

“Jesus,” Cole whispered.

The creature had stepped away from the door. The beast’s hulking, battle-scarred form filled up most of the room, but Brad and Gerald had taken up positions to fight it. The triple points of Gerald’s staff had been broken off into a single jagged tip. Cole could also make out spiked protrusions along the handle of the staff.

Gritting his teeth, Gerald tightened his grip around the weapon, thorns and all, and jabbed the spear into the creature’s side. Brad still wielded his blade, which Cole could now see resembled an elongated spike forged from dirty steel. Although Gerald was carefully picking his targets and taking clean shots, Brad swung the blade erratically. Oddly enough, the creature seemed more concerned with that blade than the spear, which continued to gouge into its flesh. Bloodied and barely standing, the men did their best to coordinate another attack.

If the blood hadn’t been rushing through his head with such force, Cole would have been able to make out more than a few words.

“Remember what I taught you,” Gerald said.

Brad nodded, gripped his weapon by the blade and flung it through the air. It rotated during its flight and landed solidly in the beast’s chest. As the creature howled with pain, Brad drew an identical blade from a scabbard at his hip.

The creature reflexively turned away from Brad, allowing Cole to see a trickle of blood from the spot where the blade had hit.

Finally seeing a chance to do something other than run or hide, Cole rushed forward, reaching out with both hands.

A chill spiked through his blood the moment the creature looked in his direction.

After another step, his legs no longer wanted to work and he had to rely on his own momentum to carry him forward. His left hand snagged the creature’s coat, which felt like a coarse, matted tangle of bare wires and nylon cords. His right hand found the blade in the creature’s chest and twisted it.

Gerald appeared then, next to the creature, and jabbed it with his wooden spear. He screamed something to Cole, but it was lost amid the slamming of Cole’s heart in his chest.

Letting out another thunderous cry, the creature wheeled around and dragged Cole along for the ride. Brad was cut down by a single swipe from the creature’s claws, and Cole was close enough to hear the last sound the other man would make. As he felt the creature turning toward Gerald, Cole tried to steer him away by twisting the knife again.

Despite the knife in its torso, the creature still knocked Gerald through the air with a powerful backhand. The old man’s back slammed against a nearby table and the wet crunch of breaking bones filled the lodge.

There were more voices and more gunshots, but Cole couldn’t make out any details. He was dragged a few more feet as more shots were fired. A bullet shredded through the creature’s fur and thumped against what might as well have been a slab of solid rock.

More gunshots followed, and Cole recognized Sam’s voice through the chaos. Something hit his shoulder then and sent him skidding across the floor. His back and head knocked against a wall, and afterward he couldn’t move a muscle. But he could still feel his fist wrapped around the knife that he’d pulled from the creature’s body.

Sam shouted something and the cook shouted back. Their voices were soon engulfed by a deafening howl as the creature leapt toward the kitchen.

Then consciousness slipped from Cole’s grasp.

He didn’t expect to wake up.