Boundary of Shadows

Genre: Western

Plot: Hired guards protecting the mysterious forest are picked off one-by-one.

Words to use: gate, entrance, border, boundary, kill, shadow, death, unknown, mystery, frontier, lawless, rule, challenge, face-off, smoke

Smoke billowed from the makeshift fire. Sparks flew as the logs dropped and Gareth poked the fire with the metal poker. “What do you reckon, Bill, about the mystery we are guardin’?” 

“All I know is that it has me shakin’ in my boots,” Bill replied, his rifle at the ready. His rough hands gripped the barrel and butt until he could relax and returned to cradling it like a baby. Until he knew what the sound was, he had a tendency to point at any random chirp of a cricket or cry of an owl. To say he was on edge was an understatement. 

“It sure is the biggest challenge I’ve ever undertaken,” Gareth replied, “I used to being out on the frontier, not stuck in one place, especially don’t like not knowin’ what I am guardin’.”

“Well, if we needed to know, I’d reckon they’d tell us,” came the curt reply from Bill, who was mid-scan of the entrance to the forest they were being paid to stand watch over. The rule was no one goes in nor out. If anyone was to venture in their parts, they were to alert someone on the other side of their radio.

The iron gate creaked from the rusty hinges as it moved with each burst of natures exhalation. A dense fog that rolled in off the mountain to the north. The moisture gathered as it went down through the forest, and the sight looked like fingers stretching with menace out toward its border. Then it went back to where it started. Gareth furrowed his brow.

“I swear it smells of death in there,” Bill said, a chill went down his spine beneath his weathered flannel and thick, brown worn leather jacket. The breeze got colder. “Here, let’s add some more wood to that fire. It is getting colder and I don’t want to catch my death.”

“Your imagination is taking off with your wits, Bill. Don’t be a scaredy cat,” Gareth had added some more logs he thoughtfully gathered before dark. He knew he couldn’t leave Bill alone for any length of time. He’d end up shooting the wrong person and he didn’t want to be that wrong person. Not for this job.

“I bet you haven’t heard the rumors then?” Bill surmised his partners ignorance in his question. “You don’t know nothin’ man, do ya?” 

“What rumors, Bill? Tell me,” Gareth’s sinewy arms beneath thick layers of clothes, dexterous from youth, moved the logs around easily, organizing them, and trying to stoke the fire. He looked at Bill’s face through the fire’s light. It appeared deformed as the shadows danced across it, created by the light of the fire and the deep worry lines that had sprung out of emotional intensity of his life. A bead of sweat trickled down through his salt and pepper hair and the side of his face; the two-days worth of facial hair stopped it short and he wiped it with the back of his freckled hand.

“Just that we weren’t the first ones to guard these woods and its boundary. There’s been others, and they up and disappeared. No one knows what happened to them. Just plumb vanished.” 

“Good god, Bill. I am sure that we ain’t the first ones, but they musta moved on and found other jobs just like we will sure as not. I am not going to stay here for the rest of my life,” Gareth replied, pointing toward his thick, muscular chest with his calloused thumb; dismissive and resolute were his opinions. “I don’t believe no ghost stories, Bill. I don’t got time for that. No, sir. Beggin’ your pardon, and I don’t mean no disrespect, seeing you are of an age much older than me, but I just don’t believe it.” 

Seemed Bill had the time to worry. His usual gruff voice failed momentarily. He cleared his throat before he replied. “Well, it’s the unknown that worries me. Why do they want this forest guarded at night? Who are they keeping out, or, an even more terrifying thought, keeping in that god forsaken forest?”

Bill pointed his rifle toward the dark outline of the trees. Gareth shook his head in disbelief. Bill took off his hat and wiped his brow then placed it securely back on his square head.

“Bill, you told me you just came from the lawless west, no wonder you’re a shiverin’ mass of bones. Not everyone here is out to kill you. I ain’t worried one bit, just you wait till light. We’ll be fine and live to tell our stories of sitting in front of the fire, you telling ghost stories and scaring yourself half to death.”

“Well, be that as may, Gareth, but my one rule is protect your butt at all costs. One thing I don’t want to do is have an old-fashioned face-off with a Spector, ghost, or anything un-natural. Human foes are good enough for me.”

The sudden sound of a metal click far off drew their attention. The shadow grew out from the forest. 

“What was that?” Bill jolted his rail thin body in a full 180 degree turn toward the sound inside the forest. Gareth stood up from a crouched position, pulling himself as straight as he could to look in the direction. Out of caution, of course.

“It’s just an animal, Bill. I am going to grab some more wood. I thought we had enough, but the fire just eats them up.”

There was plenty of trees that were outside the forest’s edge. Mostly maples and ash that gave off litter of stick and leaf debris but no logs. 

“Well, damn. It is gonna get awful cold and dark soon,” Gareth said to himself. It felt good to talk to himself out loud. He shivered. A scream and a rifle shot echoed through the cold night air. He darted back to the entrance, calling for Bill; over and over again. No sound, just the sound of the wind blowing through the forest canopy. The creaks and breaking of limbs could be heard loudly and definite. It was a pattern forming in Gareth’s mind. His eyes darted, hoping Bill had just stepped away to relieve himself. 

“Bill, stop messing around and answer me,” he yelled, the forest creaked in response. A shadow grew, he noticed it, edging closer and closer. His heart rate spiked and his eyes grew big. It inched closer as his feet failed him, his knees weak from fear. Work legs, work, he told himself, then tumbled onto the soft dirt beneath him. The shadow wrapped itself around him and with a swift action, grabbed his legs and pulled him into the forest. The only sounds was his scream, then silence. 

The radio crackled: “Andrew to Gareth, come in.” Then again for Bill. Then silence. The breeze cackled through the trunks, satisfied for the night.