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In his youth he had been magnificent. Wily and courageous, many a hunter and shon:gili
had cursed him for breaking just as the trigger was pulled. There was a time he could out-race, outfight, and out love any other in these hills. He was once fleeter, stronger, more male than any other.
Once, he drank the wind.
Now bloody foam dripped from flaring nostrils. The old buck was dying of exhaustion. The grayed head dropped between legs straddled and trembling in the biting wind of this thirty-first of October.
Sahmain. Night of the dark gods and human sacrifice.
Far down on Wilkes-Barre Mountain he could hear the dogs. A pack of strays tracked and ran him in relays for so long he could not think of when it had all started. Nor of where he was, for he had been run completely out of his home territory on Bald Mountain.
His knees gave out. In the center of a laurel thicket the old buck tumbled to the ground. His grayed muzzle stretched over the sodden autumn leaves. He groaned softly, waiting for death to take him.
Near him a nenepi, a minor demonic presence, squatted. Disgust was written plainly on the grotesque features. It hissed, but not even that was enough to do more than make the buck tremble, the cataract-Filmed eyes flickered. The muzzle quivered, but life seemed to be already dulling.
Cursing, it leaped on one quivering flank and stabbed down with a blackened skein-dubh. The blade hissed and scorched through hair and hide and bone and muscle.
The old buck grunted, driving his crippled body up. His legs shivered, and even the pain of the knife only made him desire more to lay down and die.
Far in the lead, a sleek, well-Fed rottweiller propelled his black form through the brush to the little patch of ground where the buck stood. The dog had known the Man [P2]they hunted. He knew him from the time before the raid that had freed them all. On this day they would kill the Man. He would feed on his blood.
A snort of warning grunted from the buck. The young dog panted, a grin stretching the fleshy black and brown lips. Arrogant, certain of himself, he stalked to the deer. He nudged one shaking leg and whined, hoping the buck would run, and looked to the nenepi for help.
The deer's muzzle dropped, brushing the fallen leaves. The dog sat back on his powerful haunches and growled, but it seemed hopeless. He stood and cocked a leg on the buck's face.
"Let it end," the Guardian of the Deer growled. She bared her teeth at the imp on the deer's shaking back.
The imp laughed, only a little shrill. He whipped up the knife and before the Guardian could stop him, drove the feeding blade deep into the deer's spirit and possessed it.
At this point the rottweiller could no longer stand it. He yapped eagerly and leaped at the buck's stomach. His teeth sank deep. Bleating with the pain the old buck tore away from him.
The pack boiled up, charged at him. He jerked away, stumbling blindly, moving faster and faster, down the embankment and onto State Route 309 and the heavy Friday evening traffic.
Under the control of the imp, the old buck lowered his aged head and charged.
Two motorcycles, an ancient Uohali-Night Sun and a sin-scarlet Red in wild, joyous abandon raced down the mountain towards Wilkes-Barre and Scranton.
Benny glanced over his shoulder back at his stepfather and the witch/prostitute, Leda Melancowski. He snorted a laugh. Ol' Papa Bear didn't like losing at anything. Too bad that rip Leda had to come crawling up and beg a lift into Scranton.
Yo, but Mom was gonna be real POed when she found out.
Benny heard Carl's shout over the Night Sun's roar and felt his cousin Todd scream at his back.
Jerking his head around, Benny stared in confusion.
Carl bared his teeth and crouched low to cut the wind. At his back Leda shrieked and clawed. Carl battered her hands away, and twisted the accelerator so hard it jammed wide open.
The fuel line burst and sprayed flaming gasoline over Carl and Leda. The Red Sun he rode became a streaking comet of fire. Carl saw the flames feeding on him. There was no pain. There was nothing but Benny. His kid was in danger. Now, Carl knew, now he would give Leda the death she deserved. She would burn on earth, and forever burn in hell for the murder of his and Anna's baby girl. Blurring around his stepson, Carl slammed out and into the path of the charging buck.
"One of the Owl's," Carl roared over the agonized death scream of the Red Sun.
Benny howled a denial. He tried to force more speed from the old motorcycle.
"Carl . . . no, Oh, God, don't -"
Carl's Red Sun burst through traffic. No way to save Benny and himself. It was too late for him, anyway. Leda had to die, or she would kill and kill and kill. Dear God, but Anna deserved better for a husband.
He could feel a little of the flames now, burning up the legs of his jeans, eating at his jacket.
Carl roared in defiance.
Shrieking in horror, Leda hurled through the guttering flames in an effort to save herself. Carl howled with glee and relief and felt his ride surge forward.
Arms and legs flailing, the woman crashed into the road. A small car smashed into her. It flung Leda through the air to tumble over and over until she slapped into a tall stretch of bare rock on the side of the mountain.
Closing his eyes, Carl whispered, "I love you, Anna. Thank you for loving me."
Buck and Red Sun met on the centerline, crashing head on. The motorcycle exploded, spinning out of control. It went over, momentum sending it hurtling to the bare bones of the mountain. Fire touched his eyes, Carl screamed in defiance of the god of death. The crash ground him between the cliff and the massive Red Sun.
Uncalled to assist, Carl's Guardian stood helplessly by, tears running over his ashen face.
On the embankment above them the dark-sun lord, the Owl, raised his fists and screamed in rage at the
Aga:Veil and the Lords of Light who resided beyond.
"I shall yet destroy thy precious Grey-wolf," he shrieked. "I shall 'were' his flesh and rule."
Coldly the demon surveyed the wreckage below. The woman, his priestess, would not be missed. She loved money, fearing him less and less since the day he brought the man, Benjamin Grey II to life at the Witch's Stone.
He raised a cold and handsome face, watched his prey, the Grey-wolf, slam through traffic, roaring in desperation between cars and tractor-trailers and screaming denials of what had happened.
Benny whipped the Night Sun to a stop on the wide berm and sat paralyzed, staring in dull horror at the burning hulk of the bike and his stepfather.
The fire sputtered, leaving the stench of human sacrifice behind.
A blackened hand moved in the flames.
Benny leaped over the windshield and bars, tears streaming down his face. He raced to Carl, dragged his stepfather out of the flames and slapped the fire out with his bare hands.
Sitting with Carl's head in his lap, Benny stroked the scorched, half-burned face. Tears washed at the black, flaking skin.
"No, man," he whispered brokenly. "Don't die, Carl. I love you man. Papa Bear, don't leave me-" Benny choked, bowed his head over the mangled black and bloodied face and his shoulders heaved in sobs.
With a boom of laughter, Carl leaped to his feet.
"Ha," he crowed, "Gotcha, kid, but good." Carl snickered at Benny. Hearing a shriek of pain and terror, he jerked around and stared in shock at where Leda lay. Carl sneered. Yo, the only thing she ever did well was lay there for a guy. Leda screamed again, twisting and striking at black, snake-like things. "What the hell is that?" he whispered shaken to his scruffed, worn boots.
They crawled over the shrieking woman.
"Carl," Leda screamed, flailing her arms at the burning tentacles webbed around her. "Carl. Please, Carl, help m-me."
He shuddered. As much as he hated the woman for her constant using of him and every person around her, Carl still lunged forward to help.
Stumbling to his knees, Carl looked down at his feet and snarled. The tentacles had him, were slowly twining around his legs and boots.
Cursing and panting, Carl tried to kick free. Claws formed on the ends of the tentacles, stabbed deep into his legs, lancing up his body. Carl roared in anger and reached for his knife. A claw reached the pocket first and drove through his groin, up, then out his back through a kidney.
Screaming, Carl pounded his fists on the things, trying to crush them as he would a man who enraged him.
Wrapping around Carl, they chittered excitedly and dragged him slowly under the earth, down through the bones of the mountains he loved.
Grasping at anything to slow their progress, his spirit-Flesh could touch nothing.
"Benny, Benny," Carl shouted. "I love you. Tell Anna I love her forev-"
The blackened lips sighed. Benny's head jerked up, staring into his cousin's face.
©2003 StoriesByEmail.com
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