Edited version
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 stoked the fire with the metal poker. “What do you reckon, Bill, about the mystery we are guarding? Is it something to do with the goings-on in that thick as molasses forest yonder?” He pointed after laying the poker down next to him.
“All I know is that it has me shakin’ in my boots,” Bill replied with a shiver. He had the barrel of his rifle resting at his side. He burst with pride describing how quick he was with his rifle to anyone who listened. He even had a medal. Often, 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. “I am ready for it though, don’t you worry.” He patted his rifle and drew it closer. An owl hooted overhead, and without thinking, he grabbed the rifle and pointed it toward the tree. He let a sigh of relief as it flew away in silence.
“It sure is the biggest challenge I’ve ever undertaken,” Gareth replied, smirking at the fear in his companions eyes. He pulled his jacket closer to his body and twisted his body to settle himself. “To be honest, I am not too fond of stayin’ put. I’m used to being out on the frontier, rambling, not stuck in one place, and I 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 behind him. Their job was to guard the entry to what was called Beware Wood and they were being handsomely paid. 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.
With each breath that the forest expelled, the rusty hinges of the iron gatecreaked, creating a sound like nails on a chalkboard. Dense fog, like bony fingers, rolled down the distant mountain. Moisture that came as waved saturated the air, it traveled through the forest and outward the two sentries at their post. It traveled the forest’s border, then went back to where it started. Gareth furrowed his brow. He felt painfully aware of it matching his own breath as it left his body. He tried to alter it, but it settled back into the same pattern.
“I swear it smells of death in that terrible woodland,” Bill said. The breeze seemed to get even colder. “That blasted fog is making it so damn cold. Here, let’s add some more wood to that fire. The night is settling down and it’s gettin’ so cold. I don’t come down with a fever.” He laid two logs down on the top of the blaze, embers fluttering around them.
“Your imagination is taking off with your wits, Bill. Don’t be a scaredy cat,” Gareth said. “We just need to get through the night. Do you want to take the first watch or me?”
“I can,” Bill replied, “I won’t be able to sleep a wink.”
“Okay, well wake up when it’s time. I’m exhausted.”
“I bet you haven’t heard the rumors then?” Bill asked, surprised at his ignorance. “You don’t know nothin’ about this forest, do ya?”
“What rumors are those?” Gareth settled himself into his sleeping bag, straightening the blankets over himself. He looked over at Bill and his face looked deformed, dancing to the light of the fire and the deep worry lines settled on his face. A bead of sweat escaped from beneath his hat and rolled down his temple and disappearing.
“This boundary is notorious. There’s been others out here, guarding this wood and gate. They up and disappeared during the night. One after tother — and —, “his voice lowered, “no one knows what happened to them. Just plumb vanished.”
“Good god, Bill,” his voice became like gravel, “I am sure that we ain’t the first ones, but they musta moved on and found other jobs just like we will when we finish this job. I have no doubt we will be fine. Stop worryin’, ” Gareth covered his face with his hat. “I don’t believe no ghost story, Bill. I don’t got time for that. No, sir. Now, let me sleep.”
“Okay. But, 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 tree-line. Gareth let out a deep sigh and turned onto his side.
“I understand Bill, but didn’t you tell me you just came from the lawlesswest, no wonder you’re a shiverin’ mass of bones. Not everyone 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 be, Gareth, but my one rule is protect yourself at all costs. One thing I don’t want to do is have an old-fashioned face-off with a Spector, ghost, or anything unnatural. Human foes are good enough for me.”
The air grew strangely still, a groan seemed to escape the voice of the trees beyond. With a sudden force, the sound of a metal click far off drew their attention. A shadow grew out from the forest.
“What was that?” Bill jolted his body in a full 180 degree turn.
“It’s just an animal, Bill. Would you pipe down now.” Gareth pulled his blanket tighter. The crackle of the fire began to die down.
“Ugh, the fire is starting to die already,” Gareth sat up with a sigh and removed the blankets and put on his jacket. He grabbed the wood carrier and small bits of bark fell from it. “I’ll go grab some more. Try not to piss yourself, Bill.” He let out a laugh as he strode toward the rear of the truck, leaving Bill sitting upright, his gaze shifting from one side to the other.
Gareth placed logs into the carrier. He gripped it tightly when the sound of a groan echoed around him. He stopped dead in his tracks. He heard Bill’s voice, high pitched, scream, followed by a rifle shot ring through the cold night air. He dropped carrier, the logs gave a loud thud as they dropped onto he dirt pathway. As quick as he could, he darted back to the fire pit.
“Bill!…Bill!,” he called out. He repeated his name over and over again, his eyes frantically scanning their campground and the surrounding area. Only the sound of the wind blew across 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. But, why wouldn’t he answer? And, what was he shooting at?
“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 became weak. He 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.”
Silence….
“Andrew to Bill, come in.”
Silence…
The forest took a deep breath and sighed with satisfied for the night’s feast.
Copyright © Rachel D. Knepp.
All rights reserved. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means—including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods—without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations used in reviews or critical articles.
