Into the Hollow

“That’s exactly what we’re going to do. We’ve got guns and nothing but time.”



Actually, we didn’t have a lot of time. Our supplies would only last us so long. It’s not like we were lounging on a beach in Cabo.



“I hear you.” Dex smiled. “Now what do we do with the llama leftovers?”



Mitch eyed the carcass eagerly. “I’m going to take it out into the woods, leave it as a trap. Maybe it’ll bag us a bear or a cougar in the meantime.”



“Cougar, huh,” Dex commented. “You like the older women then?”



Would have thought he was a cradle robber.



Mitch wasn’t even listening. He had grabbed both of the llama’s hind legs and was dragging the poor dead thing away from the tents and toward the forest, a thick trail of blood left behind.



Dex sighed. “I suppose I should go help him.”



I grabbed his coat and held him in place. “Why are you being so nice?” I whispered.



He gave his eyebrow ring a brief tug. “I don’t really think we have a choice.”



Then he left me and hurried after him, picking up the llama’s front legs. Together they disappeared into the woods.



I turned the camera off and brought a bottle of water from our packs and a thing of hand sanitizer. Dex was going to need it after that. Then I wrapped my coat tightly around me and went over to the fire, adding more kindling and wood and prodding it until it was going again. I felt I was safe if I was by the fire, plus the two guns were still right there. I didn’t know if I could handle the recoil of the shotgun but I knew I’d be handy with a rifle if it came down to it.



I could hear Dex and Mitch in the woods, even laughing over something, which seemed wrong and out of place. But at least I knew Dex was still alive and they weren’t being attacked by some beast. So far it seemed that the attacks only came at night and I was hoping the creature was nocturnal. Not that night attacks were great, but I was going to have a heart attack if I had to be in panic mode 24 hours a day.



I just didn’t know what to think. There was something out there, something with the power and the desire to rip the head off and gut a harmless llama. Part of my brain kept arguing with the other, saying that there was no way some unclassified, unknown beast could exist in this world of satellite feeds and YouTube videos. How was it even possible that the fabled Sasquatch might even be true? It just didn’t make any sense in my rational mind. Urban legends were just that - legends.



Yet, we now had proof of something dangerous and terrifying and the fact that it still didn’t seem possible only made it scarier. I’d dealt with ghosts and demons and I thought things couldn’t really get much worse for me. I mean, the only reason I agreed to the whole stupid episode was because I thought none of this was real. I thought none of this could hurt me. I thought I’d be given a break because I’d been through so much already.



I was very, very wrong. And whatever lurked in those dark trees was very, very real.



I rubbed my hands together, trying to get them warm. Even through the gloves, the morning air seeped through, turning them into frozen blocks of pins and needles. I heard one of the llamas snort, so I got off the log and walked around the pile of boulders to my left and over at the patch of grass that the llamas were being kept on. To my relief, they looked fine. Spooked but alive and unharmed. I felt sorry for the animals, wondering if they had to witness what had happened to their buddy.



I carefully walked toward them, wishing I had spare food or treats I could give them. Their heads were raised, snouts to the air, and the whites of their eyes showed as they rolled around, trying to figure me out.



“It’s just me,” I said, approaching Tonto first. He seemed to calm a bit at the sound of my voice, so I came forward, one step at a time. I didn’t want to freak them out and start a stampede - they wouldn’t get very far on their lead lines.



I paused and gauged the way the lines were wrapped around the tree. Mitch had said that if we turned them loose, they wouldn’t leave. I needed to believe in that because there was no way we were going to keep them tied up and unable to run if some beast was going around killing them.



I had just reached the pine tree and was untying Tonto’s lead with fumbling fingers when I heard a low moan from behind me.



I froze on the spot, the terror seizing me from limb to limb. I had seconds to try and process what the hell I had heard when the moan got lower, nastier. And human.



“You trying to make a run for it, girly?” Mitch’s depraved, sloppy voice roared from behind.



Before I could whip around to face him, he had grabbed my shoulders and spun me around then he shoved me backward onto the hard ground.



I screamed as I fell and the llamas bolted. I fought to get back up but before I could he placed his boot on my stomach and put the weight down, crushing me.



“Dex!” I tried to scream but he pushed even harder, taking my breath away and replacing my world with pain. My arms flailed, trying to grab onto his leg, to fight back, to do something but I could only lie there, writhing, as Mitch towered over me. His face was drunk, and demented with lust.



“You think I wouldn’t notice if you took off with the llamas and left me here?” he sneered. I didn’t think the man could look uglier but here he was, looking like a disgusting, red-faced animal. “You think I’m too stupid to catch on to your plan?”



“Dex,” I cried again, turning my head to the side and trying to see beyond the spots that were forming in my eyes. Where was he? What had he done to him?



With the last reserves of strength I had, I whipped my hand up and dug my nails as deep as they would go into his pant leg. They broke through the fabric and then into his skin.



He yelped and took his foot off in surprise. I used that time to roll onto my side and try and scramble to my feet. I didn’t get far before he yelled, “you bitch!” and reached out. He grabbed me by my hair and yanked me backward until his mouth was at my ear.



“I’m not done with you, girly,” he murmured, warm drool leaching out of his mouth and down my neck. He took his free hand and yanked down at the front of my coat, trying to get at my breasts. I refused to panic and going on sheer adrenaline, I took my leg and kicked the heel of my boot back into his shin as hard as I could, then crunched down on his toe.



His grip on my hair loosened but instead of letting go he threw me forward until I slammed against the tree, my cheekbone catching most of the impact. I held on for a few seconds, trying to figure out where I was, what was happening, trying to figure out how to fight the dizziness that was threatening to take over, the grey that was creeping up on the sides of my vision. My cheek throbbed with starbursts of acute pain.



He grabbed my hair again and flipped me around. I cried out and his other hand went to my mouth, covering it and my nose at the same time. I fought for breath, feeling weaker by the second, while this mammoth beast of a man pinned me against the rough bark, that predatory leer on his twisted mouth.



“Pretty girly all bruised up,” he jeered. “Don’t worry, I’ll just have you from behind. Won’t have to look at your ugly face.”



My heart lurched at the finality of his words, at the separation between my lungs and the air. I was either going to die or I was going to get raped, or both. The whole time I was fearing a beast but I hadn’t been fearing the right one.



“Perry!” Dex’s voice broke through the haze and Mitch’s hand slipped off my nose enough to get a good inhale. I drank it up like water and tried to regain my courage and strength.



Behind Mitch I could see Dex running toward us. His hands were empty and all I could think was get the gun, Dex, baby get the gun. I didn’t want Mitch dead but nothing short of a gunshot wound to the kneecap was going to stop this man.



Dex slowed a few feet away, his eyes wild but in a rare form of control. He looked at me intensely and I felt only relief and anxiety. He was here. And he was going to get hurt.



“Get your fucking hands off her,” Dex threatened quietly. He sounded far too confident for what was about to transpire.



Mitch agreed. He snorted contemptuously. “Oh, is that what you think? You don’t even have a gun, you idiot.”



“I could run back and get it,” he replied calmly, his eyes like blackened lasers boring into Mitch’s bald head.



“I’d finish her off before you got back,” Mitch told him, practically salivating as he said it.



“Or I could stay here and teach you some manners,” Dex went on to say. He raised his brows and grinned coldly at him. “Which is it?”



Mitch looked back at me, shaking his head slightly. I watched him with widened, fearful eyes as his grip on my mouth tightened. “Oh this oughta be good, girly.”



“So be it,” was the last thing Dex said before he lunged forward and grabbed Mitch by the shoulders. I had one thought, please don’t let Dex die, before he spun Mitch around on the spot. The speed and ferocity in which he turned the oversized man surprised all of us.



All of us except for Dex, who just grinned again, cocking his head to the side like he was examining the psychopath. He took advantage of Mitch’s surprise and in an angry flash of fists, he punched Mitch straight in the face.



Mitch actually flew backward with blood spurting freely from his nose. I don’t know how, or if it was a trick of my mind thanks to the lack of oxygen but Mitch’s feet actually left the ground and he was thrown a few feet, his heavy, hulking body smacking down like a sack of potatoes.



I was free from him now but I grabbed onto the tree anyway, unsure of what to do and if I could and should help.



Mitch staggered to his feet and tried to go for Dex, but Dex beat him to the punch. He leaped forward and tackled him around the waist, shoving him toward me. I yelped and left the tree just Mitch was thrown against it, the back of his head swinging back against the trunk with a sickening whack, pine needles raining on the ground.



Dex tightened his white-knuckled hands around Mitch’s throat, face inches away, gazing down at him with intense hatred. I could almost feel the waves of anger streaming off of him, Dex’s single-minded mission to hurt the man who had hurt me.



“If I see you within a hundred feet of us,” Dex whispered harshly, his words dripping with venom, “I will come back and finish the job. And no, I won’t be using a gun, though you can sure as hell bet I won’t be leaving the guns with you, you fucking monkey. I’ll be using my hands cuz I can just tell an animal like you can’t stand to lose a fight to a guy like me.”



Dex gave his throat one last squeeze, Mitch’s eyes almost rolling back in his head, his mouth sputtering, before he released him angrily.



He stepped away and had turned toward me, when Mitch sprang off the tree.



I screamed in response and Dex flipped around, instinctively ducking as he went and avoiding the punch that Mitch threw. Dex spun around so he was behind Mitch and delivered a solid punch to the back of his head.



Mitch toppled forward like a fallen giant, the ground shaking beneath him from the impact. It felt like the ground continued to shake but I realized it was just me, shaking where I stood, fear and relief flooding through me like a river unleashed. I couldn’t take my eyes off of Mitch’s body as he lay there, watching him breath slowly, waiting for him to rise again. But Dex was suddenly at me, scooping me into his arms and pressing me into chest. He held me tight and kissed the top of my head.