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the opposite direction.

 

“Dear God, there’s more of those things?!” the man asked, looking off towards the direction Prine had just come from.

 

“I’m afraid so, mr?”

 

“Oh, I’m John Ellway,” the man said, smiling weakly again.

 

“Nice to meet you. Now, follow my directions.”

 

John gulped and raised an eyebrow.

 

“Directions?”

 

Prine didn’t even hear him. He pointed toward the back of the truck.

 

“In the back there is a couple of gas cans. Grab both of them.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because we’re going to need them,” he said. “If we want to get out of this alive.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

ELEVEN

 

Prine lead John into the trees off to their left. The sun was now beginning to set, and a thin blanket of darkness was settling in across the sky. It wasn’t dark enough quite yet to take notice of, but Prine knew it would be soon.

 

And once darkness hit, they were sitting ducks.

 

John carried the two gas cans without trouble. He carried one under each arm and, despite both cans being full, was trudging along as merrily as the situation allowed. Prine carried the rifle, and kept the barrel facing the forest ahead of them.

 

The Bigfoot had all fallen silent, but he didn’t know why. They had only been silent for a few minutes now.

 

Prine lead on, up the small slope, and into the forest. The sun was still high enough in the sky to allow the forest to be fully lit. Pine needles crunched beneath their feet as they marched deeper towards what John feared was their fate. He didn’t know if the sheriff felt that way or not, but he didn’t care.

 

“Okay, right here’s good,” Prine said, suddenly stopping.

 

John stopped behind him, and set the gasoline cans down on the dry ground.

 

“What’s the plan?” he asked.

 

“I think you can figure that one out,” Prine replied.

 

The plan that was close to being fully formed in Prine’s mind was simple, given the circumstances. They would soak the general area with gasoline, lure the beasts into the trap somehow, and them set the forest ablaze.

 

Prine really did hate having to do it, but it was necessary. He didn’t really plan on living through it, but he wanted other counties and states to be safe from these monsters.

 

“Don’t ask questions, just follow directions,” Prine said.

 

John shrugged, and waited for his command.

 

“Now, start dumping that gasoline everywhere.”

 

“Everywhere?”

 

“Well, within a mile radius.”

 

Prine didn’t except John’s raising of an eyebrow, but there was no time to worry over it.

 

“Get to it, boy.”

 

“Don’t call me boy. You don’t know me hardly at all, so none of this ‘getting personal’ crap.”

 

“Hey, knock it off with the attitude. Get to it.”

 

John shot him a quick glance that was full of anger, and then marched off to fulfill his orders. Prine watched him until he got around forty feet away, and stopped. Then, he released a sigh of relief, and looked around.

 

He scanned the tree trunks for any sign of the creatures. But none were to be found. The air was now sweet with the smell of pine and moss. He took in a deep breath of it, and managed a smile.

 

John began circling around into his vision. He looked straight at John, and saw he was doing a good job of spreading an even coat of gasoline. In a matter of minutes, John was finished.

 

“Looks good,” he said as John returned to his side.

 

“Thanks,” John snorted.

 

“Now, to find a way to lure those things here.”

 

John didn’t reply. It puzzled him that the guy didn’t for a second, but then he just waved it off and kept his gaze on the forest around him.

 

“Uh, I think I know how,” John spoke suddenly.

 

“How. . .” he asked, turning towards John’s point of direction.

 

What he saw was the most stunning thing he’d seen all day. A young Bigfoot, only around four feet tall, stood a little way away from them, sniffing the air and grunting at them.

 

"I see it, but how exactly is that going to attract them?” he whispered.

 

“Well, I imagine there’s a. . .”

 

John was cut short when an adult Bigfoot emerged from the trees. It glared at them, and growled in a low, threatened tone.

 

“Mother,” John finished in a half whisper.

 

“Congrats, your right. What are you thinking?”

 

“I never thought we’d get this far.”

 

A thought seemed to come straight out of the blue, and hit him in the head. He raised the rifle he still clutched in his hands, and looked through the scope. The gun was aimed towards a tree to his right. He straightened it out, and aimed at the smaller Bigfoot.

 

He took in a deep breath, said a prayer for their safety, and pulled the trigger. A bullet whizzed through the air, and struck the young Bigfoot. It fell dead, blood spilling out like a flood from its head.

 

The mother Bigfoot let out a loud roar of anger, followed by a long battle cry howl. His plan was working perfectly. When the creature’s howl died down, it didn’t move. It stayed right where it was, and continued to growl at them.

 

Soon enough, thousands of howls responded. Everything was set. Now all that was left was to wait for the colony to arrive, and he would light the forest on fire. He could only pray that it would work.

 

Within minutes, hundreds of Bigfoot began to emerge from the trees. When they lay eyes on the dead young one, they all jerked their heads back, and let out mournful howls. Suddenly, their howls were joined by John’s screaming.

 

Prine whorled around in time to see a Bigfoot slice into John’s shoulder with its claws. John reached over and put pressure on it. Blood oozed through his fingers as he pushed downward on it. The creature that was responsible had a strange, dark green substance on its claws.

 

The other Bigfoot beat their chests and let out strange whooping sounds. John’s grip on his wound tightened. His eyes shut tightly. He grit his teeth, and made a deep moaning sound.

 

Seconds passed, and that moan became a growl. Not like that of a Bigfoot, but that of a man.

 

John looked up at him with reddening eyes that were anger-filled. The only thing he could think to do was watch as John fell to his knees and buried his hands in his fists. The growling turned into a full on cry of pain that was deep. Prine trembling hands accidently pulled the trigger of the rifle.

 

A bullet went shooting through John’s skin, and into his lower intestine. John tensed up, and fell to the ground, dead. Blood and gore tumbled out from the area in his dress shirt.

 

The next thing that happened was fully unexpected. The mother Bigfoot came running at him on full speed. He lifted the rifle and shot four bullets into its chest, and one into its neck area. Finally, after the neck wound, it too fell to the ground dead.

 

Prine heard the other Bigfoot snarling and beating their chests in anger. He turned toward them, raised the rifle, pulled the trigger. . .

 

Nothing came out. The cartridge was empty.

 

The creatures started for him, first moving in a slow, intense pace, then running, then sprinting. He dropped the rifle, and dug into his pockets. He felt around for the box of matches he’d stuffed into them when he still had his squad car.

 

He found them at the very bottom of his pocket, and pulled them out quickly. Sweat cause by intense panic soaked his face, and his clothes. He opened the box and grabbed a match. The Bigfoot were getting so close, he could smell their breath.

 

He lit the match, dropped it to the ground, and ran for the highway. The cries of the Bigfoot as they died filled the air.

 

***

 

Prine ran down the slope. His very breath was heavily rushed and panic-filled. But now, his fear was beginning to die down. He could still hear the beasts’ desperate cries as they burned in the flames.

 

The fire was spreading really quickly. Tons and tons of black smoke filled the sky. Ashes flew in the slight breeze that fluttered by as he ran through the cooling night air.

 

His foot hit a small tree root. He fell headlong into the dirt, rolling the rest of the way down into the barrow pit. The fall hadn’t been bad, but he’d lost his hat. He didn’t look back. He just got to his feet, and ran to the other side of the highway.

 

The opposite side was a steep slope that went down for quite a ways before ending in forest. Prine didn’t know if there were any more of those beasts down that way, but he did it anyway. John and he had dumped some gasoline down the slope, just in case.

 

He dug out the box of matches again, and lit one up. Just before he dropped it, he looked back, and remembered the town of Wallace.

 

He remembered the people he used to love. The people he’d protected for so many years. He shut his eyes, and prayed for the families of those who were dead, and then released the match.

 

Right as it hit, the slope erupted into flames that traveled all the way down, and soon was spreading into the trees. Prine wiped tears from beneath his glasses, and then looked up into the darkening night sky.

 

 

***

 

Smoke invaded John’s lungs. He coughed a few times before rolling over onto his stomach. It hurt like hell when he plopped down onto it, but he ignored it. The bright flames were coming his way, and fast.

 

Dozens of forest animals ran from their habitat, headed for the slope. John watched as many different species whizzed past. Deer, elk, bears, wolves, and cats all ran for their lives while he prepared to lose his.

 

John looked back behind him, and saw thousands of Bigfoot burning to nothing but ash and soot. The nightmare was over, but so was he. He closed his eyes, and let the flames melt the skin from his body.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

EPILOGUE

 

The clear night sky was lit by the now roaring flames. The fire had spread for miles. Still, animals ran from every direction, confused and fueled by fear, unsure where to go.

 

Prine leaned against the back of the state patrol vehicle and watched it all. There were dozens of other vehicles there, including fire engines, ambulances, and cop cars. All of them had their blaring lights flashing, which only added to the brightness of the sky.

 

Even though he’d lost everything, his family, his friends, his town, he was still very thankful to be alive. The tears he’d shed still hadn’t dried, even despite the heat waves.

 

One of the police officers approached him, a sad and stern look in his eyes.

 

“Sheriff Prine?” the man asked.

 

“Yes?”

 

“We just got the latest report on the fire. They’ve got it burned out pretty good all along the East, West, and South edges, but they’re still fighting it to the North.”

 

“That’s good. Keep me updated.”

 

The man nodded, and then took off back toward the group of officers standing near the yellow DO NOT CROSS tape. Prine sighed. He didn’t care about the fire right now. He almost wanted it to spread a little further, just to make sure it burned out all of the Bigfoot.

 

He felt like there had to be more than what had nearly stampeded him when he set the fire. But, he ignored those feelings. The nightmare had ended, and they were safe.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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