Bigfoot’s Fury: A Halloween Chiller

Posted by admin on October 31, 2007

The evidence suggests Bigfoot eat meat, especially that of deer. Some researchers believe the creatures take pieces of deer carcasses, or perhaps even the whole carcass, back to a hiding place where they dine at their leisure. But what happens when a human trespasses in a Bigfoot’s meat locker?

Excerpt from The Hunt for Bigfoot: A Novel by Lisa A. Shiel, Book One in the Human Origins Series

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Dark had fallen before they reached the clearing. Pete Kryszka clicked on his flashlight, a three-cell MagLite that lit up the woods like a spotlight. Katy followed Pete.

Rick followed Katy. He wasn’t dressed for a nature hike. He wanted dinner, not deer parts, whatever that meant. He had a feeling after he saw the deer parts he wouldn’t want dinner anymore.

Pete halted. He shined the flashlight on a pile of sticks. "Here."

The pile stood three feet high and at least as thick. A hole in the front gaped mouth-like. Katy edged nearer the pile. Picking up a few sticks, tossing them aside, she leaned into the pile.

Rick grabbed her arm. "Careful. You don’t know what’s in there."

Pete aimed the flashlight over Katy’s shoulder. "Better?"

Katy murmured.

The pile had engrossed her. She leaned deeper inside, planting a hand on the top of the pile. A breeze wafted the stench of decaying flesh over Rick. He moved closer to Katy.

"What’s in there?" he said.

"Legs. Hooves. A breast maybe. Couple heads and some chunks of meat."

"Seen enough?"

Clack.

"You hear that?" he asked Pete.

Pete cupped a hand over one ear.

Clack.

"Yup," Pete said, lowering his hand. "That’s them."

"Them?" Rick searched the darkness for whatever or whoever Pete had meant. He saw the outlines of trees and bushes, the moon above, its rays glistening on the pine needles and Katy’s hair.

The clacking had sounded like wood hitting wood.

"The hairy ho-mo-nids," Pete said. "They’re watching. Might not like us messing with their stash."

Katy stepped back from the pile. "Turn off the light."

Pete obliged. The darkness deepened.

Clack. Clack.

The hairs on Rick’s arms stiffened. While his eyes adjusted to the dark, he turned his head left and right, staring into the woods. The trees looked like men, the shadows like trees. Right then he wished he’d bought the night-vision binoculars he had seen in a catalog last month. On sale. What did he need with night vision in the city, he’d asked himself, and thrown the catalog in the trash.

Damn.

Clack-clack-clack.

Closer. He started forward. Katy laid a hand on his arm. He stopped.

Across the clearing, the clacking erupted in machine-gun bursts.

What the hell?

Clack-clack-clack.

Behind them. He looked at Katy. Head tilted, eyes half-closed, she stood motionless.

Clack!

The percussion rang in his ears. It had come from across the clearing.

Vegetation shooshed and crackled.

Katy seized his sleeve. "On the count of three, run."

"What?"

She released his sleeve. "One—"

CLACK!

A shiver sidled up his spine.

"Two—"

A shriek ululated through the clearing.

"Three!"

Katy exploded past him. Pete scrambled behind her.

Cursing, Rick bolted after them.

Another shriek, high and undulating, rattled his eardrums. Saplings cracked, twigs snapped behind him. He could barely see Pete, much less Katy, though their footsteps pounded ahead of him. He followed the sound, praying he hadn’t slipped into the track of one of them by mistake.

The crashing resounded closer and closer.

His foot smacked into a tree stump. He bit off the cry that welled in his throat.

Crashing. Grunting. Too damn close.

He vaulted over the stump, racing in the direction of Katy’s and Pete’s footfalls. He had lost sight of them. Jesus, he didn’t know these woods—

"Eh-eh-eh."

What the hell was that?

Never mind. A flash of white up ahead alerted him to Pete’s position and he veered toward it. Thank God for the old coot’s shirt, it was the one clean thing the guy owned.

A hand nabbed at his shoulder.

Rick pumped his legs faster. His muscles burned but he pushed harder, harder, until he the pain melted into the background.

A hand seized his hair, jerking him back.

He jabbed his elbow backward.

"Uh!"

The hand released his hair. He ran.

To find out what happens next, read The Hunt for Bigfoot.

Source: Bigfoot’s Fury: A Halloween Chiller