Sheep's Clothing by Gary Lewis (dark books to read TXT) 📗

houses came into view, brightly lit in the center of the midnight fields. Vance let his foot off the pedal as he cruised past and the first row of rusted trailers with decaying, weathered porches lined up beside the road. He turned slowly down the rugged clay and dirt that was probably populated with a thick layer of gravel long ago.

His dad's truck sat parked beside the red Mustang. Things looked like usual until Vance noticed, beyond the bright porchlight reflection of the glass screen door, that the front door was wide open. Normally it wouldn't catch his attention, but tonight it was definitely out of the ordinary.

Vance pulled a three-point turn, backing up within fifteen feet of the porch. With a light click of the driver door handle, he cautiously eased the door open with a quiet squeak before striding over to pop the Mustang's trunk. Snatching out a hefty, dark duffel bag, he crept carefully to the back of his pickup and pulled heavy duty paracord from the bag.

"Should be plenty," he said, crouching in the darkness behind his truck. Vance tied the cord over and over around his tow hitch, finishing it with a tight pull that strained him to the face. He slung a giant loop of remaining line across the damp dirt just in front of the porch and waited. Only the late-night sound of bugs along with the rumble of his still running engine permeated the air that hung with a dense haze, making the most distant trailers invisible from where he stood. Never mind the forests that stretched beyond.

After a couple minutes, Vance's patience had reached its limit. He squatted down, raising up with a large, broken chunk of concrete. With a heave, he hurled the tiny boulder into the screen door, loudly shattering its glass window. "Come out, you fuckin' pussy!" he shouted loud enough to rouse the entire mobile home park. His eyes strained to peer into the dark room through the busted glass door from his place beside the truck. "This is why I've always been better than you!" he yelled deeply from the bottom of his chest.

Furniture slammed across the living room beyond the narrow doorway. A mountain of dark fur bolted into view, pausing just short of stepping out into the light. Vance jumped into the cab, throwing the duffel bag in the seat and threw his truck into gear. His rearview mirror reflected a pounce as the beast cracked through the warped wooden porch rail with ease. He stomped the gas, spinning red dirt downhill. With a sudden zip, the creature was jerked in the lasso Vance dragged behind. He felt the thump of resistance yank tight as he accelerated toward the road. "Snagged ya!"

Vance's engine growled with fury as his carnivorous cargo howled a constant scream, tearing uphill through the muddy gravel. He jerked a hard right onto the pavement, tilting the truck on two wheels. The creature was flung in a wide turn that smashed into a chain link fence. Vance punched it through the tangle with torque and the metal ripped loose, throwing silvery shards along the street. Vance's truck dragged the beast, wrapped in metal fencing along the asphalt drive.

Every porchlight came to life as Vance turned the heavy metal rock all the way up and they roared down the street, spraying sparks behind while the creature screamed out barks of distress along the way.

As he neared the chicken houses, Vance slammed his brakes. The squealing rubber burned its way to a sudden halt. His truck bed banged with force when the beast's momentum crashed it against the back of his cab, shattering his rear window into the seat. "Hang on!" Vance grinned. "We're in for one hell of a ride."

A ferocious growl erupted with hatred from behind and Vance's engine began to purr once more. With a sharp off-road turn, he hit the gas, sending them tumbling down the hill. It was everything he could do just to keep driving on track as they bounced at every bump. Reaching his arm around back of the seat, Vance glanced back for a second to see the creature sliding along the truck bed, clawing, struggling and climbing to stand.

The brightly lit tan and white walls of a chicken house grew closer and Vance clenched his eyes shut while he held the pedal to the metal. The impact pounded him like a ram butting into his chest. Sand smacked his face from his cracked windshield as his truck beat its way through equipment and bouncing birds.

After an eternity of dozing through feathered footballs and hellish hurdles, the truck puttered to a halt. Vance coughed out the stinging smell of chicken waste that burned his sinuses as he climbed out of the wreckage, duffel bag in hand. He slung it over his shoulder as he looked through raining feathers that floated around the destroyed building.

A dark figure began to slowly rise a short distance behind the truck. Its long ears stood high above a mane of tufted fur. Vance watched as it started violently shaking its head into a series of rampaging sneezes. It raised its menacing yellow eyes to match Vance's stare as it stumbled slowly toward him, stopping to sneeze again.

"Perfect," Vance said before retrieving his flashlight from the bag and banging it against the metal panel of his wreckage. "Over here!" he shouted and turned to jog away. He dodged injured hens as he continued to the other side of the building.

His right ankle stung a sharp pain with his weight on every step and his hip and neck pulled him back with chains of soreness as he approached the exit. Vance unlatched the lock, turning to look back as he swung open the door. The werewolf snarled at the flapping birds that surrounded it, baring teeth from its long snout as it slashed a few bloody swipes through them, clearing a gory path. He watched until it set its eyes on him once again with renewed vengeance gleaming deep within.

Vance slammed