The Nine Lives of Felicia Miller (36 page)

“What? No.” Crystal tried to pull free of the hand he had clamped on her arm. He held her firmly for a moment then let her go. She took one errant step and collapsed to the ground.

“Damn it,” Wally snapped. “Now she’s no good at all.”

“Don’t sweat it, dude. She’s not the first chick I ever roofied. I’ll get her up. Just be ready in case that cat shows up.”

Nelson stepped over Crystal and knelt down across her torso, his knees planted on either side of her. He started unbuttoning her blouse.

Wally raised the rifle and gazed through the scope. Slowly sweeping it around to check the surrounding woods.

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Owen was surprised to find the Audi parked on a secluded road. He had reached the end of the woods nearest town, and decided to head back towards Granny’s.
What the hell? Why would those kids park here, in the middle of the woods? Don’t they realize how dangerous it is out here?

He trained his spotlight on the car. The kids were nowhere in sight. He knew if they were screwing in the back seat, they’d sit up when they saw his spotlight. His lawman’s intuition told him something wasn’t quite right. He thought of the questionable look on the girl’s face and couldn’t imagine her being bold enough to head into the woods at night for a little woodland frolic.

He climbed out of the SUV and approached the car. As he stepped alongside he caught sight of something else—Wally’s dirtbike, dumped on the side of the road near a trail into the woods.
Shit, I should have known. The fuckers are in this together. But what do they want the girl for?

The answer stuck in his head immediately.

Sweet Jesus. Bait.

He looked down the trail leading into the woods, and knew right where it led.

Devils Point.

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“Stop it. No…” Crystal’s voice was a muddy slur as she tried to fight off Nelson’s probing hands. He’d started off wanting to scare her, but opening her blouse and yanking her bra down had inflamed his erotic passion. Her nipples were like dark cherries, too tempting to resist.

They had dragged her drugged body to the center of Devils Point. A likely spot for Felicia to come looking. Her grave was already dug. Deep enough for both her and her friend. The trap was about to be sprung.

Wally watched silently as Nelson slapped Crystal’s face to keep her awake, and rudely played with her breasts.

“No. Please. Stop hurting me.”

“Shut up, bitch,” Nelson slapped her face hard. “I don’t want to hear another yap from you, you hear me? Your mouth is only good for one thing.”

“Help! Help!” Crystal’s cries grew louder and louder. Even in her foggy state she knew she was in serious trouble.

Nelson moved a hand down into her panties, roughly manhandling her.

“No no please,” she warbled. Tears of anger and shame streamed down her cheeks.

She fought to clamp her thighs shut, trying to protect her virginity from Nelson’s clawing fingers. She looked to Wally for a sign that he might intervene, but he was busy holding his rifle in one hand and rubbing a prominent bulge in his pants with the other.

“Hurry up, man,” Wally said. “I want a piece of her too before we dust her.”

Crystal screamed. Her ungodly wail echoed through the clearing, seeming to bounce from boulder to boulder and around the wooded perimeter of the Point. As her scream faded another sound rose.

A bone-chilling animal growl.

Wally and Nelson froze. Their blood felt like icicles in their veins. The growl was like nothing they’d ever heard. The very air seemed thick with its vibrations. Crystal started to cry out in fear but Nelson clamped a hand over her mouth.

The Sheriff froze in his tracks as he heard the unearthly growl. He wasn’t easily frightened, but some part of him was terrified by the sound. He stood still, afraid to make a peep. Having serious second thoughts about going on.

Maybe I should get back into town… get a hunting party out here.
But Owen knew that wasn’t a viable option. Someone would surely be dead before he made it halfway back to town. And it might be that innocent girl.

He chambered a round in his rifle and plodded forward. Knowing he was on the hunt of his life.

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The growling stopped but the creature that made it didn’t. Its footsteps crunched loudly through the forest, snapping fallen branches and old dried leaves. Bushes shivered and small trees bowed as the predator muscled its way through the woods around them.

Wally and Nelson waited in growing trepidation. They could follow the beast’s approach, gauging its progress by the movements of the foliage. It was circling the Point as it moved closer, then away again. Keeping them guessing where it might finally appear.

Crystal had passed out in Nelson’s arms, his hand still guarding her mouth.

Suddenly all was still. Even the wind had ceased, as if in anticipation.

Wally raised his rifle into firing position and slowly turned in a circle, scanning the surrounding woods through the scope. They’d chosen a good spot to set their trap. It was at least thirty feet in any direction to the treeline. There was plenty of bright shiny moonlight. Whatever was stalking them would have to race his bullets across the open clearing, giving him time for a good clean shot.

A snarl drew his attention to a spot in the woods.

A bush moved. Wally considered taking a blind shot into the woods but knew he’d probably just scare off whatever was out there. He pressed his eye to the scope, hoping for a better look. But scanning the woods carefully, he saw only empty foliage all around.

Another growl sounded, directly behind him. He pivoted quickly, and saw some bushes rustling on the opposite side of the clearing.
Damn. That thing is fast. Fucking sneaky fast.

His finger slipped over the trigger, slick with sweat. He continued turning slowly, aiming wherever he thought the creature might appear.

Nelson sat on the ground with Crystal cradled in his lap. He was white with terror, trying to convince himself he was safe in the circle of boulders, with Wally protecting them. But inside he was wishing he’d never come.

With no sound or movement in the woods, Wally saw an opportune moment to wipe the sweat from his trigger hand. And that was all it took.

From nowhere the sabretooth came flying into the clearing.

Before Wally could react it was standing in front of Nelson, unleashing a roar that caused him to pis his pants. Both boys were petrified. There was no earthly explanation for what they were looking at. It was unquestioningly monstrous. And there had to be witchcraft involved.

This time there was no mercy. Not a moment of hesitation. Felicia opened her mighty jaws and bit down over Nelson’s head. Her huge fangs passed harmlessly over his cranium and locked on either side of his neck. He was barely scratched, but he knew he was finished. Everything in him collapsed into a single point of emotion. Pure hopeless fear.

   Shaking like a car with three blown cylinders, Wally somehow managed to raise the barrel of his gun. He could hear Nelson’s unholy whimper muffled by the cat’s monstrous jowls. But before he could aim and fire, Felicia threw her head back, whipping Nelson’s body up towards his friend.

Nelson’s wildly kicking legs sent Wally tumbling backwards. He landed hard, his back slamming into a boulder, hard enough to bruise a kidney. As he landed his hand squeezed the gun in a desperate bid to hold on and his finger pulled the trigger. The shot blasted past his temple, deafening and almost killing him.

Nelson’s headless body landed at his feet, sprawled like a discarded puppet. Wally nearly fainted at the sight. His vision dimmed, clouded by a sickly yellow haze. His mind slowed to a crawl. He watched in horror as the giant cat opened her mouth and flicked Nelson’s head off her tongue into the air—then snatched it back on the tips of her oversized fangs and popped it like a blood-filled egg.

Wally tried to stand but reeled back as explosive pain shot through his damaged kidney. He braced himself on the boulder and raised the rifle. Sweat stung his eyes, blurring his vision even more.

The big cat eyed him with a cold deliberate stare. She seemed to be smiling. Enjoying the torment he was feeling. She crunched a few times on Nelson’s head, then flicked what was left at Wally. The mashed ball of blood and brain matter landed in his lap. His bladder unleashed its load. His sphincter opened. His pants turned hot and wet and cold in the cool night air.

Wally slowly brought the rifle up, moving as slow and steady as he could so as not to provoke an attack. It was going to be near impossible to get a good shot off in time.

Something moved at the edge of the woods. Wally looked over and a tiny burst of hope ignited in his breast. “Dad,” he whispered hopefully. An involuntary response that slipped from his lips, as if he was reassuring himself that his father was no illusion.

Felicia heard the whisper and read Wally’s eyes. She turned to see the Sheriff stepping into the clearing, armed with a high-powered rifle.

Owen couldn’t believe what he was seeing, but there it was, unmistakable in the bright moonlight.

A sabretooth tiger!

He took a cautious step forward. His mind was on autopilot. Doing what a lawman should do under pressure. He noted the big cat’s position. Saw the remains of Nelson’s body. His son in obvious peril. And Crystal’s fallen body.

The cat growled softly, warning him to stay out of it. Owen took a step sideways—and almost slipped into a hole. He gazed down at the open grave, and the shovel lying nearby. A shovel from his own garage.

“Dad…” Wally whimpered. It was a sound that the Sheriff hadn’t heard for many years. Not since the boy was first learning to speak.

The huge cat half-turned to face him. Another low growl rolled unbroken from her throat. Warning him to stay away. To mind his own business.

The Sheriff understood. But his son was in danger.

He took aim at the sabretooth tiger. Watching it like a hawk for any sudden movement.

The cat stepped gingerly over Crystal’s body, careful not to tread on her. The girl remained mercifully unconscious.

The cat’s movement struck a strange chord in the Sheriff’s heart. It was uncanny how it stepped so lightly over the girl. As if it was taking care not to hurt her.
But then again look what it had done to Nelson. A normal American boy.

The wheel’s started spinning in his head. He looked into the eyes of the creature. He looked down at Crystal’s prone body. Finally noticing her open blouse. Her clothes in disarray.

And he finally understood.

Wally saw his moment and raised his gun. Pressing his eye to the faulty scope. “No!” his father shouted.

Wally fired. And as he did the Sheriff swung the barrel of his own gun and fired.

Wally’s bullet whizzed past Felicia’s head, missing by a foot. But the Sheriff’s found its mark.

Wally buckled at the knees as the high-powered round hit his chest. Splitting his ribcage it burrowed through a lung towards his heart. In the final moment before death he dropped the rifle, spun and looked at his father. A look of bewilderment settled into one of understanding. For one fleeting instant they had reconciled. Wally tumbled down, finally redeemed.

Owen and the cat exchanged a look. For a second it wasn’t clear what would follow. Then the Sheriff lowered his gun and quietly waited. Frozen in uncertainty.

The big cat roared gently. A roar of respect. Then it stepped carefully away from Crystal and ran off into the woods.

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Owen drove slowly back to town. The girl was still unconscious, buckled securely in the passenger seat beside him. Her vital signs were stable, and he needed the long slow drive to process everything he’d just seen and experienced.

His son lay buried with the gruesome remains of his pal in a hole at the edge of Devils Point. An appropriate resting place for the boys. In a hole that was conveniently big enough to hold two bodies.

The Legacy rifle with its broken scope was buried in the hole with them. Owen didn’t really need the gun and it held only bad memories.

Maybe his son could make use of it… wherever he was.

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