44 #2
“Into the barn.” We both glanced toward the dark, ominous entrance. “If Rachel is alive, I need to find her.”
Her eyes welled—whether from the cold or grief, I couldn’t be sure—before she rapidly blinked the tears away.
Then, holding her pitchfork like a spear, she said grimly, “Let’s fucking do this.”
My heart was in my throat by the time we reached the shed.
I was constantly moving, turning, watching, just as Loki was.
Salem tried to ease open the shed door, but it was barricaded on the other side.
Pressing her mouth close to the door crack, she whispered, “Rebbecca, it’s me! Salem! It’s Salem and Rayne!”
There was no response from within, so Salem began to force the door. Bracing her shoulder against it, her feet kept slipping in the snow as she tried to open a crack wide enough to see through. Finally, she was able to shine her phone’s light inside, and there was a small gasp of relief.
Rebecca was wedged beneath a workbench, her wide, terrified eyes only visible when Salem’s light shone on them. She crawled out when she saw us, her nose and cheeks bright red from the cold, her eyes swollen from crying.
Salem took her hand and helped her climb over the mountain of things she’d piled in front of the door. She was trembling violently, looking around the yard with an expression of confused horror.
“Where’s Daddy?” she whispered, but I shushed her quickly.
“Go, Salem. Go,” I hissed, pushing her toward the house. Keeping low, tightly gripping Rebecca’s hand, Salem sprinted to the house. I covered her escape, scanning my surroundings through my gun’s sights. But Loki’s attention was fixated solely behind me... on the barn.
The tension around my lungs loosened as Salem and Rebecca disappeared into the house. Safe. They were safe.
Loki matched my pace as I crept toward the barn, his head low. The snow was disheveled with prints, some of boots both large and small, and some of hooves.
“Easy, now,” I whispered, but I wasn’t sure if I meant it to reassure him or myself.
A single electric lantern hung from a hook just inside the barn doors, illuminating the wide, frightened eyes of the horse in the stall next to it.
The mare flung her head, squealing in fear.
Chickens were squawking and fluttering, wings beating against their coop sending plumes of dust and feathers into the air.
The goats were restless, milling about in their stall, wide-eyed and bleating.
Before me, lying face down, was Andy. Blood pooled around his still body, dark patches of gore ripped through his clothing. My stomach clenched, my chest tightening as I stared, hoping for any sign of life.
His chest didn’t move. There was too much blood.
My instinct was to run to his side, try to wake him, try to drag him to safety. But I forced myself to be still, crouched just inside the barn doors. I couldn’t help him now. Making the wrong move could cost me my life.
He was lying on the broken remnants of the ladder that once led to the hayloft. He’d been ripped down as he tried to flee to higher ground.
No... no, that wasn’t right...
There was an ax, fallen near his right hand. To judge by the remains of the ladder still hanging above, he’d used to the ax to chop it down.
He hadn’t died while trying to flee. He’d died trying to protect someone.
Unclipping my flashlight from my pack, I clicked it on and aimed the beam into the rafters.
Something scurried about near the back of the barn, and I went still as stone as Loki began to growl.
He didn’t move—he just stared straight ahead, ears flattened, teeth bared.
The shadows were too deep to see within.
Chains dangling from the rafters swayed slowly, but there was no breeze in here to move them.
Suddenly, there was a soft footstep above me, and Rachel’s terrified face peered at me through a crack in the hayloft floor.
Her hair was mussed, tangled with straw as if she’d been hiding beneath the piles of hay.
She was crying silently, and began to whimper when she saw me, but I hurriedly put my finger to my lips.
Then I heard something that made my veins run with ice.
“Come here. Come . Here .”
Loki’s growl deepened. That eerie voice was Andy—but it wasn’t. He would never call his own child with such coldness.
“Where are you, sweetheart? Come here.”
Rachel squeezed her eyes shut tight and covered her ears with her tiny hands.
I trusted Loki not to leave my side; we crouched behind plastic barrels full of animal feed, with the voice of the beast emanating from the darkness.
If I could get on top of the horse’s stall door, I could get a leg up on the rafters and pull myself into the loft.
Peering cautiously around the barrels, I watched as the angel emerged from the darkness.
It crawled about on its six long limbs, coming to eagerly sniff at Andy’s corpse.
Its jaw gaped open, gore and pink-tinted saliva dripping from its teeth.
Chattering excitedly, it took the poor man’s limp arm between its teeth and—
Suddenly, with a flurry of squawking, the chickens were released.
The birds flew in a panic, feathers filling the air.
Loki barked and the beast startled, swaying its head side to side in confusion at the noise.
It swiped at them, but with a dozen frightened birds fluttering around it, it was thoroughly distracted.
Now was my chance.
As I hurried to climb up into the loft, I spotted Salem crouched near the chicken coop. She gave a thumbs-up and a wicked grin, and my heart beat harder but not out of fear.
“I love you, pretty girl.” She couldn’t hear me but I said the words anyway, hoping she could read my lips before I disappeared into the loft. Loki remained obediently hidden below.
The angel stalked in a slow circle as the chickens fled, snapping at them with half-hearted aggression. The birds clearly weren’t its preferred prey. Salem was out of my sight, but I hoped she was making her way for the exit.
Little Rachel was huddled behind a pile of hay bales, clutching a ragged plushie in her arms. Her eyes were wide with shock, and she was frighteningly cold as I picked her up.
But as I did, the wooden floor groaned, and the angel’s attention snapped toward us.
It began to chitter, and as I remained crouched and still, I could see the shadow of its long arms reaching toward the loft, looking for a way to climb up.
Seizing a rusty hand spade from the ground, I threw it to the back corner of the loft. The beast shrieked, pursuing the sound from below, its head lifted as it sniffed intently. Moving painfully slow to remain silent, I made my way to the front of the loft, Rachel held tight in my arms.
The hay door was silent as I eased it open; thank God for Andy keeping the hinges well oiled. The icy wind hit my face, flurries of snow blowing in. It was a long drop, but I hoped the snow would cushion our fall.
When I looked down, Salem was waiting below.
Her arms were outstretched, her gaze darting between me and the barn as she watched for the angel.
She motioned with her arms and I squeezed Rachel tight, whispering to her, “Salem is going to catch you, baby, okay? Don’t be scared, it’s going to be okay.
But you have to be quiet, alright? Do you understand? ”
She gave a tiny, timid nod of her head. She didn’t make a sound as I lowered her down, and allowed her to fall the last few yards before Salem caught her.
Salem stumbled with her weight but didn’t fall.
I followed, lowering myself until I dangled from my fingers, then dropped to the ground and landed in a crouch.
“Don’t look, it’s okay, just close your eyes,” Salem was saying, covering Rachel’s eyes so she wouldn’t see what had become of her father. I could no longer see the beast in the barn; it had crept away somewhere, and without a line of sight, we were vulnerable from all directions.
I whispered Loki’s name, and the dog immediately came to my side. But he kept staring off into the trees at the back of the barn, where the cattle were huddled together against the snow. Their wide eyes glowed in the darkness as my flashlight moved over them, but they were still and silent.
“Where did it go?” Salem whispered. Loki was growing restless. He caught my pant leg in his teeth, tugging and whimpering.
Like a deer in the headlights of an oncoming semi, I didn’t dare move. We were the prey, standing vulnerable in the middle of the yard. If we ran, it would chase. If we didn’t...
We would die.
Still surveying the darkness beyond the barn, I cast my beam over a large, huddled form just at the edge of the trees. No eyes caught the light.
“Run, Salem,” I whispered, the flashlight shaking as the angel rose to its feet. “Run for the house.”
She sprinted, and in the same moment, Andy’s voice called out, “Don’t leave, Rachel. Daddy is here.”
“Run, run, go!” I yelled, bringing my rifle up and firing off a shot.
The bullet barely missed the angel’s head as it charged for me, long limbs sending it loping over the snowy ground with terrifying speed.
It was almost on top of me, and I ducked down as I braced myself—but a dark blur flew past me.
Loki met the beast head-on. He dodged around its long limbs, snapping and snarling before he caught one of its hind legs between his teeth. He wrenched his head back and forth and the angel shrieked, swiping him with its claws and sending him tumbling through the snow with a yelp.
My hands were almost too cold to fire the gun. I shot it in the back as it stalked toward my dog, who had limped to his feet, snarling and snapping his teeth. The beast stumbled and thrashed, and I screamed for Loki to come as I fumbled to reload.
He limped toward me, slowed by his injury. The angel was swiping at the bullet wound in its back, dripping blood into the snow. It gave me just enough time to fire again.
The gunshot rang out and my bullet hit its mark, piercing the beast between its upper shoulders. It roared, lurching forward before whirling around to face me.
It wasn’t intimidated. It was angry .
Loki stood in front of me, barking furiously as the angel charged. We didn’t have time to run. I couldn’t reload quickly enough. All I could do was crouch over my dog and cling to him, as if I could somehow save him.
A long object sailed over my head and speared into the angel’s chest.
Putrid blood spurted across the snow and the creature gave a horrendous scream, tumbling backwards as it clawed the pitchfork out of its torso.
Grabbing Loki’s collar, we ran. Salem was standing near the shed, already armed with another gardening tool.
Rachel was safely inside, but she had come back for me.
“Go, Loki! House, go!” I yelled, and the dog limped ahead of me with all the speed he could muster. The snow was powdery and deep, my boots dragging through it. I didn’t dare look back, but the angel’s snarling breath was close behind.
Salem began to scream. “Hey! Come on, fuckface! Come get me!” She swung her arms, jumping up and down, drawing as much attention as she could.
Loki reached the house’s front porch and began scratching at the door, which opened just enough to allow him to slip inside before it slammed shut again.
I reached the porch just behind him, but instead of rushing inside, I turned back to make sure Salem had followed me.
She hadn’t.
The angel was now between her and the house, blocking her path, stalking closer with terrifying intent.
My fingers were numb as I tried to reload, and the bullet slipped from my grasp.
Salem was still yelling, making herself as loud and threatening as she could. She jabbed her shovel toward it, and at first, the angel seemed hesitant. Almost as if it couldn’t understand why this small thing was yelling so much and not running away.
For a moment, I felt hope.
I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could be fast enough. I could reach her.
I couldn’t.
The next thing I knew, the angel was on top of her. Her leg was in its mouth and she was screaming as she was dragged, hands scrambling for something to grip.
“Rayne! Help me!”
Those words would haunt me. The terror in them. The pain.
It dragged her into the trees. Her screams echoed out as I followed, my chest hollow, my lungs like blocks of ice. I couldn’t feel the exhaustion in my limbs or the numbness in my extremities. All I could feel was the terrifying pounding of my own heart.
Her screams were distant. I couldn’t see her anymore. I was following only the awful, bright red trail of blood starkly visible against the snow.
“Salem! Oh my God—Salem... Salem!”
My throat was raw, my hands and feet numb. No amount of willpower could force my limbs to sprint another step, and I stumbled to my knees...
Only to find myself staring into the gaping maw of a dark burrow. Nearby, Salem’s torn and bloodied boot lay abandoned in the snow.