Barely 24 minutes ter, a considerable number of other police cars and mostly patrol officers had arrived. Forensics would probably take a while, but at least there was a two-man investigative team on the scene and a sergeant who was currently the highest ranking officer on the scene.
“I just got word from headquarters,” said the sergeant, whose badge bore the name Feather. “Forensics will be a good half hour.”
Samantha had held back so far. She didn’t know the sergeant, but if there was one thing she had learned, it was never to barge in on rank superior police officers with demands or even make it sound like they were undermining their authority. Solving situations with questions was more her approach. “Sir, does this mean we’re forming a search party?”
“You bet your ass,” Feather confirmed. The man had a prominent, portly grey moustache, but he seemed in pretty good shape for his advanced age and a man of action. “Two officers will stay with the investigators and wait for the forensics. The remaining twenty of us are heading in the supposed direction of the perpetrator, to the north-eastern edge of the forest. I’ve already pced a check point there and they’ve found several tracks in the snow that are still half visible!” Feather looked briefly through the ranks of his officers, with two volunteering for house security. “Let’s not waste any more time - move out!”
Peter and Samantha left their car, in which Ben had long since fallen asleep, and rode along with other colleagues.
Police lights flickered across the front of the house and a few siren howls were let out, so that in the end a column of six cars drove along the country road until they turned onto a dirt track to the east.
The driver of Samantha’s car was really charged. “Dirty child molesters!” she spat out insinuatingly. “He’s dead as soon as I see him with my shotgun!”
Peter joined in. “Don’t forget there’s another boy,” he reminded the rest. “He’s the priority. Then the killer is due.”
Samantha served justice body and soul and she knew that wasn’t the way to go. However, it had never stopped her before, because being a police officer meant more than following rules all the time. If she had always done that, many a crime would have gone unpunished and she also knew that many of her colleagues sometimes didn’t quite follow the rules and most of them covered for each other internally. They were all just people and things like child murderers, rapists or police killers were a red rag for many, like an unwritten w. “Guns are more targeted,” she said, equally concerned for the safety of the missing boy. “With shotguns, we could hurt Richard.”
“Fine, no shotgun then,” the driver replied, briefly stretching all her fingers up from the steering wheel. Fortunately, this conversation was being had now because police officers on active duty had to turn on their body cameras - regutions. “But we have to take the big torches with us. The storm seems to be getting tougher and it’s a dark forest.”
“GPS transmitters should definitely be activated,” Samantha said, remembering a hunting trip where she got lost and was on her own for a few days. That had been a hard and unpatable lesson for her. “The forests here are manageable, but with the darkness, the snow and the cold, it can quickly turn nasty.”
Peter growled. “Not just for us.”
“Yeah, the kid’s been out for a good while and we don’t know what he’s wearing. I’ll take an extra jacket then and borrow your thermos of warm coffee.”
“For once, for little Richard,” Peter nodded less seriously. One st, brief moment of exuberance before things could get really ugly. “Look, there in front is our vanguard.”
At the edge of the nearby deserted country road, a police car waited near the start of the forest, which stretched from horizon to horizon along the tarmac. Here the snow was a good deal thicker than near the small town and not a single, civilian vehicle was in sight.
Two policemen stepped out of the waiting vehicle, as did the twenty-strong arriving team who greeted them. “Sergeant Feather,” said a middle-aged woman with a queasy stomach. “About time you showed up. I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary.”
The sergeant looked around, but there was only forest, darkness and snow. “Why?” the police officer asked sternly. “Fresh air is always good.”
“You say that now,” the woman admonished, rubbing her arms together because of the cold. “There are the tracks there. A small pair and a big one and there were some vicious sounds coming from that direction.”
“Vicious sounds?” raised an eyebrow at Sergeant Feather. “That’s a forest and there are animals there.”
“I just don’t like it, Sergeant,” the woman insisted anxiously. “That didn’t sound like animals.”
“Oh, enough of that!” the sergeant cut off this conversation. “You’re staying here anyway. We’re going in!” The officer turned to his crew and ordered. “So, unpack some high beams and every third man take an assault rifle! No shotguns! We don’t want to accidentally hurt the boy! We’ll form a straight line, with me as the centre! Ten paces between each and strictly straight out, and we did it yesterday! Go!”
The boots flipped open and the policemen helped themselves to their extra equipment. Heavy, cumbersome torches were packed and six officers took AR17 assault rifles, along with some extra ammunition.
Samantha had a torch and Peter an AR 17. Together they formed the edge of the deploying search line, on the left.
“Now, eyes open and step by step!” shouted Feather, blowing an old-fashioned whistle. “We’ll find the boy, alive!”
The beams of the high beams cut through the shadows of the forest, taking away a good portion of the elemental force of wood, wind and snow’s deterrent. Certainly not everyone here was comfortable walking through a storming forest at night, but none of the police who arrived let on and soon the rotating lights of the parked cars dimmed until they disappeared. Cracking branches took over the scenery and the creaking of snow under the crew’s feet.
“So?” murmured Peter softly. “Like that time with your dad?”
“Not in the least,” Samantha denied unequivocally, searching intently for clues along the cone of her mp: more trees, bare bushes, blown rocks and no sign of the ones they were looking for. “We did hunt to kill, but my father taught me respect for nature and life as such.”
“When you hunt, you hunt animals,” Peter pronounced deprecatingly. “And that’s what we’re doing now - hunting a rampaging animal that doesn’t give a damn about life.”
“We do, but unlike with my father, I don’t feel any pleasure in it,” Samantha remarked without sympathy. “Instead, it’s an unwavering duty.”
“Yes, sorry,” Peter nodded. “A poor comparison on my part.”
“It’s all good, partner.”
“Hey,” Sergeant Feather murmured to himself, not looking in any particur direction. “Concentrate and be quiet!”
Samantha had to admit that was easier said than done. She was used to this environment, but the longer the team trudged through the forest, the more Samantha noticed the tension in many a face and fingers rubbing nervously over the casings of their assault rifles.
“Hey!” one of the policemen made himself known. “Look! There!” He had one of the mps and circled its cone of light a few rounds near a tree to highlight the spot.
They all stopped and fixed on a rocky outcrop that ran right across this area and was a natural obstacle, or much more of a deadly trap.
“Oh God,” Peter murmured fearfully and how could he not. He saw a blood-covered, motionless body lying on the stony ground. It was a body that matched that of a developing young man.
“Fuck,” Feather blew out a bubbling cloud of breath from his mouth. The officer’s wrinkles tightened in anger, but he kept order. “Okay, everybody. Advance slowly. If I hear so much as a crackling branch, there will be shooting.”
To Samantha, the conclusion of the instruction had been purely rhetorical, and to everyone else I’m sure it was as well, as she moved with the line towards the rock and a semi-circle slowly formed around the supposed victim. What she found strange, however, was that next to the motionless body was a rather uncharacteristic bloody circle in the snow, as if a bomb had exploded or someone had been forcefully smashed into the ground.
Sergeant Feather got down on his knees and examined the faintly snow-covered body. “... No pulse ... that’s Richard, no doubt,” the man gave the sad assurance, pressing his right hand as a fist on the stone. “He has bruises all over from brutal force and probably cuts. What kind of beast does that and where is that bastard!”
“If I may, sir?” murmured Samantha as she stepped closer and the rest of her colleagues followed at half a distance, all looking around in arm.
“Go ahead,” Feather beckoned the woman closer, curious. “Did you notice anything wrong, Rockford?”
“These aren’t cuts,” Samantha expined, running her finger over the injuries without touching the victim. To an untrained eye, it took more than a gnce, but the flesh was literally ripped out in several pces, with one bite. “Someone literally mauled poor Richard, and I’m not talking about an animal. The bite wounds are too small for that.”
“How do you know that?”
“Hunting experience, sir. I’ve seen a lot of wounds, inflicted by hunters or wild animals on animals.”
“Hell,” Feather groaned uncomfortably, rubbing his thick moustache. “Did the victim in the house look the same?”
“I didn’t get that close a look at the woman, but she looked more like blunt force trauma.”
“Mhpf, doesn’t matter either,” Feather said firmly, looking at the woman who was carrying an extra jacket. “Give me that, please.” The officer received the garment, which he gently pced over the upper part of the lifeless child’s body. “I have a grandson that age.”
Samantha stood by the old officer. “I think we all feel the same, sir.”
“Very good, because we’re about to go hunting,” Feather said, clenching his fist as he rose and sought contact over the police radio. “This is Sergeant Feather to response team, come in.” There was a crackle in his spark and no reply. “Sergeant Feather to response team, does anyone read me? ... ... No signal, fucking weather! Then the old fashioned way!” the officer determined and gave new instructions. “Officer Rockford! You and your partner get back to street control or at least until you get a radio signal and call for more backup! I don’t give a shit if the HQ has to ring entire precincts out of bed, but I want to find this freak and we need more people to do it!”
Dutiful and more than motivated, Samantha nodded. “You can count on us sir!” she said and at a run she walked over to Peter. “Come on!”
“For the rest!” crified Feather. “Me and two policemen stay with the body! The rest of you form groups of 5 and search the nearby area! Find that bastard and give him hell!”
The search party had covered quite a distance into the forest, which was why the way back was not done after five minutes, although the envoys hurried. They were not running, if only because the snow was such a hindrance, but the steady bsts of heated air from their mouths testified to their prolonged exertion.
“I wonder if there’s something to that werewolf story after all?” asked Peter uncertainly, his face wet with sweat, though it certainly wasn’t from fear.
“That wasn’t an animal,” Samantha affirmed with conviction, shining her light left and right again and again, looking for something suspicious. “I’d almost guess we’re really dealing with a freak here, some kind of cannibal.”
“All the better if the others take him out immediately,” Peter said, when suddenly there was a bang in the distance! It was the shot of a pistol and he turned hastily. “Do you think they have him?!” The shot was swiftly followed by more pistol shots and several volleys from an assault rifle. “They’re really perforating him!” said Peter, before the officers′ radios crackled moments ter.
“Sir, we have two wounded!” it went through the frequency.
Sergeant Feather inquired. “What happened!!!”
“Out of nowhere sir! This madman came out of the bush and attacked us!” the male voice described excitedly. “We put several bullets into him before he went down! He must have been full of drugs! We need help right away! Jenny’s neck is completely ripped open!”
“Feather to Brown and Rockford!” the sergeant demanded.
Samantha reached for her spark. “Rockford copy?!”
“Order an ambunce for backup and do it yesterday!”
“Right away sir, we’re flying!” confirmed Samantha, looking at her partner. They both knew that caution was now no longer the first priority and they hurried through the forest and snow as fast as they could. Both she and her partner stumbled a little and Samantha nded once in the snow, but she was alright and kept going.
Suddenly it echoed ticked off through the frequency. “- to?!”
New shots whipped through the forest and not too scarcely. An entire unit had to unload their magazines into who knows what “To ..ch!” commented a woman in the spark.
“Hello?!“, Peter contacted the rest. “What’s going on?!” He was not granted an answer, but instead seemingly every weapon in the distance was fired, so much did the sounds bang through the forest and pained screaming sounds joined in. “HELLO?!”
“We have to try from here!” responded Samantha, trying to reach the road control. “Rockford to road control! Do you read me?!” Shots continued to be fired, meanwhile, but Samantha did not get the response she had hoped for and the sound of the guns diminished. “This is police officer Rockford to road control! Do you read me?!”
This situation made even a seasoned policeman like Peter panic slightly. “What the hell is going on Sam?!”
Samantha felt little different from her partner. “I don’t know Peter! What do we do now!!!”
“Go on to the road control!” suggested Peter, surely steeped in adrenaline and the will to support his comrades, unlocking his assault rifle. “I’ll go back and help our colleagues!”
“No, let me go back to the forest!” retorted Samantha, holding out her hand with the high beam. She wanted to trade light for rifle. “I know my way around better and I’m smaller, which makes me less conspicuous!”
Peter hesitated unwillingly. “But I’m stronger and this sounds like a fucking war!” the policeman opined, but the gunfire was getting less with each passing moment.
“I know,” Samantha nodded honestly, wiggling her light promptly. “But I’m the better syer! Please Peter!”
“Mhh, mhpf!“, Peter continued to grumble indecisively, but conceded defeat. “All right!” He exchanged his rifle, complete with spare magazine, for the mp. “But you better not get hurt! You owe me the after-work beer today for that!”
“Role reversal, eh?” came in a bitterly joking tone from Samantha as she checked the gun. “Deal! Go now!”
“Take care!” demanded Peter pinly and continued on his way back. “See you ter!”
Samantha looked after her partner before taking a deep, cold breath and going inside. It was not a good sign for her that there were only scattered gunshots, with ever increasing intervals between them, but for this she became as focused as she could be. It was an extremely dangerous situation, with all her senses sharpening and she took another sip of warm coffee from Peter’s thermos to calm down. Then it was - hunting time, but Samantha did not take the exact same route back as her tracks had been too conspicuous for possible attackers. Now, as she made her way through the snow and undergrowth as quietly yet as quickly as possible, Samantha made a muffled attempt at a renewed contact to the rge unit. “Officer Rockford to Sergeant Feather,” she said, but it remained silent. “Anyone there? Please respond.”
No, the only thing to be heard now was nature itself. The wind made the branches of the trees dance and py a concert of beating and cracking wood. A howl mingled with it, a lone wolf in the distance, but otherwise it was unusually quiet.
Samantha had only now really registered this, because even though it was night and winter, there were almost no animal sounds in this forest. She had never experienced anything like this before and it definitely scared her. What the hell was going on in this forest? It was a question that made her pause halfway through the walk, hidden between two sturdy oaks and in a hollow over which she could scout the otherwise ft area. She saw no sign of movement and heard nothing as she rested her assault rifle on the earthy ledge and peered more closely. She steadied her breathing, driven by instinct, hidden in this concealed hunting position and then she saw something!
Someone was swaying cross-field one among the trees, but even in this poor visibility it quickly became clear that it was not one of the policemen. Judging by the outline, it could be a man, but what was he doing here? Who was he? Had he not heard the shooting? Because he seemed very boisterous, even drunk.
It was more than suspicious to Samantha and she followed the stranger’s movements until he disappeared between the tree, blowing snow and the night. “Officer Rockford to Sergeant Feather,” she contacted again. “Please um-!”
Suddenly, an ominous rumble sounded from the direction in which the wavering figure had disappeared and a thud followed. Soaring high, the figure flew up between the trees and almost nded in front of the Syer’s hiding pce. The impact was so ungentle that the man must have broken arms, legs and spine.
Startled, Samantha dived down and hid herself, shivering, but still convinced she was safe. She had a good hiding pce and peered cautiously to first inspect the flying object that had nded. The man, dressed in extremely tattered clothes, did not move a bit and his folded posture alone gave Samantha certainty: he is definitely dead!
Whatever was responsible for this damage was slowly making itself felt on the other side of the area. It had to be huge, because the steps were quite heavy, so that not even the soft snow could quite cushion their force. It couldn’t be a human being, never, and yet a human-like silhouette was forming, a real, muscurly bloated colossus of easily two or rather three metres!
Jesus Christ!, Samantha feared in her mind. What did she see there?! The shadow and storm made clear identification difficult, but this creature was an abomination, with abnormal deformities, like a malformed, over-infted weightlifter.
“Raug bury,” the thing gasped audibly and ran to the shattered body.
It wasn’t just Samantha’s trigger finger that was shuddering. Her whole body was a wreck and she wondered. Did this thing attack my unit! She did not look closely at the approaching monster’s body to see if it had bullet wounds. She just retreated as deep as she could into the hollow and prayed that the thing would not notice her!
Audibly the dead man was lifted and the heavy footsteps moved away, but after a few metres the movements paused in pce and the forest became more active. Murmuring, senseless sounds made their way through the undergrowth and several footsteps formed an audible echo. “Raug eliminated,” the figure said without emotion, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Apparently it dropped the worn body again and from zero to hundreds started a stampede that could rival the trampling of wild elephants.
Despite the threat, Samantha had to see what was going on! She watched as this mountain of muscle ran without a shred of mercy into a group of ten to twenty people, bsting them like a battering ram.
Those who didn’t fly through the air lunged at the juggernaut baring their teeth, grabbing or punching fists, but it cared zero. His brute strength seemed unprecedented, superhuman, and what bit into his arms he threw off with massive movements before the mighty fist knocked one head off his shoulders and another made bloody mud out of the next.
Yet the many attackers were and remained equally without fear and many a one was a figure no less bizarre. Alone from the often ragged, filthy hobo clothing, one saw torn open old wounds and skin that must have been rotting for a long time. God, even bare finger bones stood out, as did jaws without flesh!
All of a sudden someone fell on Samantha and she screamed shrilly! A half-rotted body burst into her hollow from the side and yanked her to the ground, dropping her assault rifle. It was a disgusting woman, with outndish hair and a sickly complexion, who held the policewoman away from her with her hands. Nevertheless, the ever aggressively panting assaint made it and bit into Samantha’s forearm so hard that neither jacket nor police uniform could stop the pressure as rotten teeth pressed into her flesh. “Ieeehjaaaa!” she screeched her pain into the night and with all her effort and desperation, Samantha managed to throw her attacker off her. Wounded and shocked, she hastily fished her assault rifle and ran out of the hollow, closely followed by the snapping attacker. Samantha didn’t think for a second about calling out, but immediately fired three semi-automatic volleys into the body of her pursuer, but she just kept running towards her. Incredulous and almost paralysed, she dropped her assault rifle, stumbled back and crashed to the ground.
Now, however, the colossus was there and its steam hammer bsted the pursuing woman’s body, but there was no blood sptter. Only its chunks flew about and the monster looked grimly at the policewoman while another of the decomposing figures made an appearance.
Now all Samantha had left was her pistol, which she drew with shaking fingers, but at whom should she aim or shoot?! And would that do any good at all?! But as the colossus did not move towards her, she instinctively shot at the moving target: belly, legs, even once between the eye!
Nevertheless, the figure staggered on before the mountain of muscle gave her its attention and grabbed her by the shins with just one hand. Effortlessly and like a doll, he heaved it over his head and smashed it into the snow a few times, then tossed the figure carelessly aside.
Although the colossus seemed more interested in the downed rotter, Samantha did not put her weapon down. “Stay away from me!” she warned him hysterically, but she could barely hold her pistol still and the giant reached for it. Helpless, Samantha fired, but the enormous hand simply swallowed the bullet, as well as the second shot.
Without any force, the mountain of muscle took the pistol from her and clenched it in his hand. The other hand he slowly reached out to the woman.
That was it! Samantha could do nothing more. She was drenched in sweat and exhausted, her heart was racing and her arm wound continued to bleed incessantly until the big hand blocked her entire field of vision and she went bck.
