"Hunt, what are you doing?" Pat asks.
I move carefully towards the hysterical goat thrashing its head in the drying mud from yesterday's downpour. I finally make it out, the mangled remains of another much older goat. Crusted blood covered the gray fur from a gash, deep enough to expose shoulder blade.
"What the hell is wrong with that crazy shit?" Pat asks.
"Come on now, you don't see this? His friend here is dead, cut deep. Doesn't sound familiar?" The sarcasm more prominent than I intended.
"What the fuck you talking about man, how would I know anything about that?" Pat sounds more intrigued than offended.
"Look at the wounds, this must have happened sometime yesterday. Same day you and Gabe were high and stumbling around here. You telling me you didn't see anything? Or wouldn't at least question me about it if our roles had been reversed?"
As I point towards the blood I notice it snake the hill towards the backyard, the same trail Gabe used on this unlucky scouting excursion.
Patrick calls behind me, "There is nothing up there, you're wasting your time."
"Then why the blood trail? It came from up there, must be something else to see. Stay here if you want, I will be back."
I was too curious to be cautious and moved quickly. It was in the air, the same dread but now close and fresh. We were in their turf now, the odds no longer in our favor. Yet something made me feel I needed to proceed anyway.
Near the top I step on a large rock cutting through the dried mud, the same that sent Gabe spinning mid-slide. The morning sun peeks beams of light through the broken boards of the outhouse, exposing the dirty magazines and floating dust inside. The trail of blood continued past the outside lavatory towards the back of the house and animal cages.
As I walk into the field I can't make sense of what I was seeing, my brain trying to catch up with processing the scene.
As I stumble forward, a loud squelching emits as my foot lands, the weight of my boot sending streams of blood out into the grass. I kick my leg to send an grayish organ flying a few feet away.
The entire backyard was a sea of dismembered heads and limbs, all scattered on random display. The carnage was so dispersed you could tell a few had tried to scurry off but were cut down at the legs before getting too far.
Some heads seemed to float on the sides of the cages, the neck stumps wedged squarely on the sharp corners.
Side slanted pupils now rolled in upwards in sockets, tongues darting from the sides of mouths.
I hunch down by the cage, in an area clear of body parts and take a few deep breaths and assess the area.
"Patrick?" I try to say quietly but there was no reply.
As I start back towards him I nearly trip over a large elder laying away from the others. It's hair was black with grey ends thinned to patches. It's muscular body and long horns indicated this was the alpha of the pack.
It had been sliced open, but that wasn't the worst of it, the eyes had been cleanly plopped out. In replace of those horizontal pupils peering at me was a blood clotted hole.
The jaw was also missing; cleanly split off and removed. I can imagine the effort it would take to remove it. The horns were sawed off, leaving only stubs at the bases.
The time and effort put into destroying this beast was more elaborate than any of the others, performed out of rage and ritual. I can see the images of it all happening and quickly try to clear my mind of it as I head back to Patrick who had grown unusually silent.
I move low and quiet down the hill to see no sign of him either direction but I do notice my still living goat friend who stops, as if noticing my stare, and baa's for me to follow.
Something ominous was hanging over there and my four-legged tour guide was slowly trotting to investigate, why not follow, this was likely the way Patrick had traveled. It was the same direction he had moved when he had separated from Gabe, to an area I had never seen. Why was he so curious to wander back this way?
The goat moves from the cover of branches to the open field and I follow keeping low in the dead grass. Treading softly through the tall grass and occasional pothole I make it to the other side and take shelter behind a row of rusted abandoned automobiles of various stages of decay, rust dominating the metal of all of them.
I near the edge of the field and see a pen filled with pigs basking in the mud. My mind twitches when I see one of seemingly smiling at me.
Well look at that; I think we know where Hoghead got his mask, from mud raised hog turned meal. Nice to see a family waste nothing.
A chill-runs through me, imagining removing a pig's face and fastening the ligaments together into a mask while listening to the voice. That deep, emotionless growl that both screeched and vibrated the inside of my ears. But this was not the Cusp, this was a memory. How could it leach off me here?
It's growing darker out now. Can't you feel it. Maybe we should move along.
Clouds had taken over and the sun was shut out since I had entered the area.
Furry tour-guide continues to trot between some brush growing between two flatbed trucks and towards some tightly packet storage buildings.
I follow it. I imagine Patrick moved this way. I try to ignore the voice. You create and feed what you give attention to, right?
You can not will me away, I am a passenger, just like you. Your wishes don't concern whatever binds us both here. And what makes you think I was talking to you anyway? Maybe I was talking to the other you, the living one.
"Bullshit" I mutter, "This is just a memory, you can't talk to him, what has happened has happened."
"Is that right? Well, maybe you should just sit back and enjoy what happens next, since you no longer recall. I will be back soon enough.
Then just silence. I really was alone. Taking a few deep breaths, I loosen my arms and legs to be as light and quick as possible while moving through the yard to the surrounding buildings, where Mr. Goat had wandered, and the trail of blood.
I move through the mud and rocks quietly enough, even for this ghost town and see no one around. Yet I still feel some thing near, something ominous. I am leaning against a metal shed and see my guide has trotted around the corner and out of my sight.
Turning around the corner just seconds behind the goat I see it vanish at the next intersection. Straight ahead I catch view a large metal water trough, steam rising from the water.
As I approach I see its filled a milky pink color, a combination of soap and blood, the smell of sweet copper filling the air.
The handles of some long rusty tools reached out from the water. The smell of dawn and death. It sloshed about as if someone had used it recently. Wet towels hung over the porcelain rim, still dripping.
Then I felt a dark presence behind me.
I had made a mistake, had been distracted, had been stupid.
Ron would not be pleased. Never let your guard down.
Mid-thought I am spinning around, knife quickly unsheathed and staring at nothing.
Straining to focus on everything around me, I finally identifying the shape of furry guide from down the next corridor before moving out of my vision again.
I dash over towards the wall and look down the side of the barn to see its shape move around right out of my sight into another narrow opening between the walls.
Just seconds behind it, how could anything move that fast and silent?
I feel uncoordinated and dizzy, like my blood pressure had suddenly dropped and I was losing consciousness.
Eyes drill through me, a presence and turn around quickly to see nothing but the waving maze of corridor.
You still have time, think, just breathe and don't get caught off guard again, it may cost you next time. My senses told me something was off, something was here. Just like in the woods, I felt the presence of dread ahead.
Just your imagination playing tricks on you dear poor Hunter. I leave for a few moments and this is what happens, you look a mess!
I finally move up to the next junction to the left, peeking around the corner first to an opening, the dark open entrance of a large double barn doors.
Want to see where dear old brother Patrick wondered off to? Then by all means go inside. Have a looksee.
From the darkness I see something emerge from the shadows before me. The face of the goat in dying daylight staring at me. Its slanted dead eyes pierce he is laughing at me, taunting me to come see the shed.
Just a little closer dear Hunter. Come and see what awaits inside...
The goat lets out a light cry before backing itself into the barn's deep shadows, no longer visible.
Compelled to not lose sight of it I quickly make for the opening.
As I approach the barn entrance a chill-runs through me, warning me of what's inside. Standing right outside the door I take a deep breath and force my way in. The taunting voice laughing low, no longer is in my ears but from the corner of the barn.
Oh come a bit closer dear boy, the better to see you...
Laughing grows louder, I smell the damp decay of rotting flesh and moldy vegetation.
Walking in I feel my swimming head rolling in all directions, trying to take in my surroundings the best I can. The light coming from behind me barely gave visibility to the hay covered dirt floor.
A shape is moving towards me from the darkness but looks to have quadrupled in size, its head rising from the ground.
I have been waiting a long time to finally reveal myself to you.
My muscles tense as darkness materializes into something more sinister than the absence of light. Something I wish would stay hidden and out of sight.
Is that fear I smell? From the great Hunter Stone?
The very outline of the thing had broadened and lurched back on its hind legs. The small nubs were now twisted into long horns that curl into a sharp point. It moves quickly towards me with arms outreached instead of hooves.
I stumble back and fall down, it's mouth formed the shape of a human smile but the eyes were goat but bigger and angry. An antient fear consumes me, like a worst fear being remembered.
Instantly the bells chimed around me from the darkness and I feel the warmth of hope start to surround me.
It was my one way out of here, I just need to focus. As I leave I feel hot breath in my face, the smell of shit and rotten flesh blown into my nostrils.