Objekt 221 Page 15

  Sunlight refracted off cool mist that rose from Clear River like smoke and arced lines of color spanned the gurgling stream like a bridge. Water rushed around Gill’s waders as he snapped his wrist back and forth, pulling his fly from the water and flicking it back into place. Brian stood silhouetted beneath the rainbow, and sadness washed over Gill. The boy looked so much like his mother.

  Steep mountains covered in Douglas fir, hemlock and whitebark pine filled the horizon, and rocks and sediment ran along the stream’s edge. Mist snaked beneath the thick tree canopy, the forest a shadow world where plants and animals fought for every beam of sunlight. Midsummers in the Rocky Mountains are mild and pleasant when the snow and ice retreat to the mountain peaks.

  Clear River bent sharply twenty yards downstream, and Brian stood in a shallow pool behind a line of stones, watching his father. A thick cloud slid by overhead. Brian’s rainbow disappeared, and the boy’s hand fell to his side.

  Gill stopped fishing, his fly floating downstream. A chill ran through him and he shook himself, rolling his shoulders, but he couldn’t shake the unease. The cube of ice in his stomach grew to a block, yet there was no cause, no visible reason to make him feel like he’d eaten a plate of Tijuana tacos. Gill stared at his son, whose attention was locked on something upstream.

  The boy wiped blonde hair from his face and frowned, his expression passing from wonder to fear.

  “Brian?” Gill said.

  The cloud passed, and warm sunlight filled the dell.

  Brian squealed, a whimper of terror muffled by fear of making noise.

  Sweat slid down Gill’s back and forehead, and he cracked his neck. Panic twisted him like a cyclone.

  Brian lifted a trembling hand and pointed upriver.

  Twenty yards upstream, the snout of an animal stuck from the tree break. Douglas fir packed the far shore, their thick branches encroaching to the water’s edge. The beast’s long jaws were open, and rows of white teeth stood out against bloody gums. Dark eyes the size of golf balls stared from within the shadows of the forest.

  The animal’s head twitched like a bird’s, and it made a clicking sound Gill barely heard over the flowing river. Whatever the thing was, it was big and stood as tall as him.

  A lizard-like head pushed past evergreen branches, bobbing side-to-side.

  Gill searched the shoreline for his supplies. Their lunches and backpack sat on a rock and his Remington .22 leaned against a tree above the waterline forty-feet away. It was farther from him than the beast was from Brian.

  The creature stepped from the forest into the river. Gill shook his head and blinked.

  The beast moved to the center of the stream and rotated its long head to face Brian. The creature stood on two thick legs, one of which clawed at the river as if spoiling to run. Thin arms hung from a sleek torso, which was covered in tiny brown feathers. A patchwork of darker and longer feathers ran down the center of the beast’s back out to the tip of its ten-foot tail. It took a step toward Brian, clicking and snapping its jaws, head bobbing.

  That was enough for Gill. He started for his gun, slow at first, then picking up speed. The creature turned in his direction, but didn’t move, its head shifting from Brian to him. Gill remembered where he’d seen a similar animal. It looked like one of the raptors from the Jurassic Park movies, but instead of grey leathery skin, it had tightly packed feathers and its head was thinner. Dinosaurs had been extinct for millions of years, so the thing had to be a mutant, a bastard spawn of an eagle and an alligator.

  The beast took another step toward Brian, and Gill doubled his pace. Water sloshed and splashed, and the creature turned its full attention to Gill.

  “That’s it. That’s it,” Gill said.

  The animal took two steps in his direction, jaws open in a tooth-filled smile. It clicked and chuffed, pushing through the water, tossing its head back like a horse.

  Gill dove the last ten feet, turning his back on the animal as he lunged for his rifle. He grabbed the gun and spun around, bringing the stock to his shoulder.

  The creature was gone.

  Brian stood in the eddy, staring into the forest. Gill’s heart pounded in his ears, and he got up and pushed through the river toward his son.

  “You alright, partner?”

  “What… what was that?” the boy sputtered.

  “I’m sure I don’t know. Come to me now. It might come back and there could be more of them.”

  Brian stomped through the water until he was at his father’s side. He threw his arms around Gill’s waders, and said, “I don’t think I want to learn how to fish.”

  “Aw, don’t say that. You just—”

  The creature appeared from within the trees twenty feet away, its dark eyes appraising them.

  Gill didn’t raise his rifle, he was lost in the awe of seeing something that shouldn’t be, one of those rare oddities that made you feel special for having seen it. The beast was damp with mist and sparkled in the sunlight. It raised itself to its full height, lifting its narrow head and nodding at them.

  Gill pushed Brian behind him and lifted the rifle.

  The creature stepped back into the dense forest, disappearing in the mist.

  “If I didn’t know better I’d think the thing was playing with us.” Gill wanted Brian safe, so he could focus on… what? Shooting the creature? If he could take it alive... He remembered the teeth, the powerful legs. “Brian, go wedge yourself into that pile of rocks.”

  The boy stared up at his father, then at the boulders he pointed at, fear and betrayal filling the kid’s face. “No. Stay with you.”

  Something screamed then. Gill knew it was a thing because human vocal cords couldn’t roar with such ferocity and shrillness.

  The primal wail was all Brian needed to push him into motion. The boy sloshed through the river toward the pile of rocks. Gill scanned the forest, but there was no sign of the monster. Brian reached the stone pile and was climbing toward his hiding place when the creature stepped from the forest behind the boy.

  Brian couldn’t see the beast and Gill decided not to alert him. If he knew the monster was behind him he might panic, and the animal would attack. Brian was almost to a gap between two large stones where the creature couldn’t get to him.

  Gill brought the rifle stock to his shoulder and put the beast in his sights. He took his eye from the scope. Brian had climbed in front of the creature, and if the beast moved, or he missed, or the bullet ricocheted off a stone…

  The monster squawked and jumped atop a boulder. Brian froze, but didn’t look back.

  “Keep going son, you can make it.” Gill was trying to convince himself. If the monster leapt twice more it would be on the boy.

  Gill sighted the rifle and took a shot at the thing. He missed, and the bullet smacked a tree just as Brian slipped into his hiding place.

  Air rushed from Gill’s lungs. He pulled back the bolt and dropped another round in the firing chamber and jacked it closed. He fired again, but the beast was too fast. It zigzagged across the river, darting in and out of the trees.

  The buzz of insects and the chatter of birds died away. Mist puffed from the forest as something moved within. Gill loaded the rifle and brought it up, searching for a target. Was there more than one? He felt exposed, standing in the river alone, gnats dive-bombing his head.

  Gill bolted for the cover of the trees.

  2

  As soon as he entered the mist Gill knew he’d made a mistake.

  Not only had he left Brian alone, but now he was blind. He walked into a wide fir branch, its tiny green leaves poking him like a thousand toothpicks as he pressed through it. Gill peered out at the river, but didn’t see Brian in his hiding spot, which was good. He didn’t see the creature either, and that was bad.

  The beast could have taken off, or it could be ten feet behind him. Birds fought on a branch above, and flies and bees hummed like high voltage power lines, ringing in his head so loud Gill pressed his fingers t
o his forehead. He needed to get out of the forest. Back to Brian.

  Gill brought up the Remington, panning it back and forth as he emerged from the evergreens. He eased into the river, looking over his shoulder, scanning the stream in both directions.

  The raptor bolted from the forest in a blur.

  Gill brought the rifle around and fired.

  The beast slammed into him and the gun flew from Gill’s hands, landing on a stone and bouncing into the forest. The raptor clawed at him with one of its seven-inch retractable talons, but Gill’s momentum as he fell saved his life, the beast’s swipe passing inches from his face.

  He hit the water, landing on the rocky river bed. Pain spread across his back as the creature passed over him and crashed into the river. Gill rolled in the water, coughing and sputtering, fighting to distance himself from the beast.

  “Dad? You OK?” Brian yelled.

  Gill said, “You stay there. Stay there! It can’t get you. I’m fine. You hear?”

  No response.

  Gill got to his feet as the raptor circled. The beast chirped and huffed, its teeth clicking as it opened and closed its long mouth. Its eyes never left Gill. He felt its stare, knew it was seeing every move, evaluating his strength.

  Somewhere in the back of Gill’s mind his dead father’s voice rose above the panicked tumult, and the memory of a hike they’d taken when he was a boy came back to him as if sent from the beyond.

  Gill and his dad were hiking in Rocky Mountain National Park and they’d come around a bend to find a massive grizzly bear standing on the path. Startled, the beast rose on its hind legs and roared, slime dripping from its tooth-filled maw. Gill remembered how he’d been thankful for not drinking all his iced tea at lunch, because only a tiny spritz of urine soiled his underwear. He recalled the fear like it was yesterday, just as he remembered his father’s soothing words.

  “Don’t make any sudden movements. It’s just as afraid of us as we are of him, and it’s important not to show fear.”

  Then the old man did something that stunned Gill so completely he’d gasped.

  His father charged the bear, yelling and screaming, waving his arms. The bear roared and bolted into the woods. “Just have to show them who’s boss, that’s all.” Gill remembered thinking his father was the bravest man he knew. With his son’s life in the balance, could he be as brave?

  Gill ran toward the forest to get the rifle. The beast’s eyes followed him, and it squawked, but held its ground. The gun lay just inside the tree break and he snatched it up. The raptor splashed in the river as it took a step forward. Gill slipped a hand into a pocket and pulled out a bullet. He slid back the bolt, ejected the spent cartridge, and slipped the .22 caliber shell into the firing chamber. The click of the bolt closing echoed over the river as Gill brought up the rifle.

  The raptor attacked, charging and jumping into the air with its clawed feet forward like an eagle dive-bombing a field mouse. Gill lurched backward and fired. The shot went high and wide, but he managed to knock aside the creature’s claws with the rifle as the beast came at him.

  The raptor recovered quickly, and before Gill could get to his feet, the beast had him pressed into the river. Gill sucked in air as he was thrust underwater, the creature’s short arms holding him to the riverbed, talons digging into him. Gill thrashed, pounding the raptor with the rifle and kicking it. The beast was strong, and it held him fast as its jaws smacked.

  A loud caw came from the forest. The creature paused and lifted its head.

  Gill knocked the raptor in the head with the rifle and freed himself. Another caw. The raptor’s head jerked side to side, its eyes focused on the woods.

  Gill inched backward toward the tree break. The beast wailed, opening its jaws and throwing its head back as it advanced, the call from the wild forgotten. Gill backed away, rifle held like a club. His shoulder ached where the raptor hit him, and he was losing his strength, tiny stars dancing in the air before him. That’s when he remembered the fishing knife in its leather sheath.

  The memory of the sheath brought a smile. People think of the strangest things when the adrenaline is flowing like wine. He and Abigale had gone down to Sonoma before Brian was born. A second honeymoon. They’d visited the four corners where Colorado, Arizona, Utah and New Mexico meet in the lamest tourist trap ever assembled. He’d wanted to leave, but Abigale and shopping had been an unstoppable force, yet it was he who had made a purchase.

  Gill remembered the face of the young girl who’d sold him the sheath decorated in beads of various colors. She’d been so proud of her creation. It made him so happy to buy it from her.

  He pulled the knife and his father’s voice again mocked him from beyond. “What are you gonna do with that? Only you’d bring a knife to a dinosaur fight.”

  “Hey, you leave him alone,” Brian yelled. He stood atop the pile of rocks, a baseball sized stone in his hand.

  Panic ran through Gill. Brian was exposed, and it was his fault. Never taking his eyes off the creature, and keeping his voice steady so as not to frighten the boy, Gill said, “I’m OK son. Please go back to your safe place. Please.”

  The raptor inched forward, its talons clicking on river stones. Its mouth opened into a smile and the creature lunged for Gill.

  The rock hit the beast square on the snout, and the raptor turned toward Brian. The boy stood perched atop a boulder, dirty-blonde hair blowing in the breeze, a broad smile running across his face. Then noticing the creature’s gaze fixed on him, Brian headed back to his hiding place.

  The raptor abandoned Gill and sprang across the river. Brian wasn’t going to make it. The raptor was too fast.

  Gill fumbled in his pocket for another shell, but there were none. He dug in his other pocket and found a bullet. He jacked it into the firing chamber and aimed the weapon at the beast.

  The creature hopped onto the stone pile, lurched forward and pulled on Brian’s foot with it snapping jaws. The boy held on, grasping at rocks as he climbed, but the strain was too much, and he fell backward into his attacker.

  Gill fired and hit the animal’s upper torso, blood splattering Brian’s face. The beast’s head jerked back, but it didn’t release the boy’s leg.

  Brian cried in pain, and Gill screamed, a primal yell of fury, fear, and self-loathing. He’d allowed this to happen. He’d let Abigale die, and now he was going to lose Brian and it was his fault. He fumbled for another bullet, but his pockets were empty, the rest of the ammo in the backpack forty feet from where he stood.

  The raptor jumped from the pile of stones and disappeared into the forest, Brian screaming and crying as he dangled from the creature’s mouth.

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