The Dark of Night

The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window.

It wasn’t til burying the body the next day I thought of its peculiarity.

The wind moaned in pain. ‘Twas a cold that harmed exposed lips and cheeks. Could it also pain these arid pastures? The open air vulnerability in these snow-spotted fields caused me to shiver. The horses and cattle that once grazed here were with old man Campbell or dead. I cast disquieted glances at the distant tree line and the cabin at its edge.

Our two dogs milled around my legs, sniffing and pawing at the frozen earth. Penny, the russet muscular bitch, and Dime, her cowardly gray brother.

My tall and broad-shouldered lodge mate, Sawyer, threw dirt from the growing maw of a grave.

I knelt by the body, wrapped in loose canvas. The dogs whimpered by my feet, licking at my fingers as I surveyed the work of my companion.

Sawyer climbed from the hole, put an earth-ladened hand on my shoulder, and said, “It’s time.” We heaved Wyatt into our arms and lowered him, the last person other than ourselves for miles, into the cold ground. The moaning wind disturbed the canvas wrappings, the fabric fluttering open to bare Wyatt’s jawless corpse. My eyelids closed tight, and I situated the fabric to cover our friend properly.

When he’d mounded the dirt, Sawyer lashed two sticks together for a cross. Then Sawyer asked, “Should we say words?” And pushed the cross into the dirt.

“I ain’t much for religion,” I replied, staring at the fresh grave.

“You knew ‘im better than me, Blaze,” Sawyer said, his handsome face shadowed by the sun at his back. His short brown hair and fierce gray eyes heavy with sorrow.

“Wyatt,” I began. Speaking felt awkward, though only one observed me. Three, if you counted the hounds. “Wyatt, you were a good boy. I’m sorry you didn’t have a long life, and… I’m sorry. So sorry.”

I grimaced. It ached to say the words, a bastard of guilt haunting my mind.

“Done good, Blaze. Ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry for,” Sawyer said. His broad hand weighted my neck as he wrapped warm fingers around my nape.

He’d rarely touched me in such a tender way. Despite the hurt, I leaned my face into his wrist, savoring the humanity of the moment. Again, my heart quickened, and this time not from fear.

“We need to leave this place, Campbell be damned.”

Sawyer nodded, and we agreed to leave with haste that day.

Feathers of snow drifted about us on our trek home. The cabin watched us from the embrace of the forest as we passed. Window dark. We packed our few belongings in the meager lodge Campbell had given us. It held the comforting aroma of old wood. A singular window lit the one room from choked daylight–muted by snowfall, with a fireplace on the opposite wall.

“Temperature’s dropping,” said Sawyer.

Night blurred with day as we packed our bags, and all was gray and white beyond the waved panes of our window. Could we see or find directions in such a gale?

Huddling by the fire, we had the dogs around us under wool blankets.

“We’ll leave first thing in the morning,” Sawyer said, shivering and stoking the embers.

I doubted if that was soon enough. I’d still not told him what I’d seen.

“Where will we go?” I asked, looking into his gray eyes.

“The city for factory work? Or another ranch.”

“I’ve had enough of the country,” I said, smirking.

Sawyer’s lips broke into a smile, bright teeth beaming. “City then. You can cook and keep the house; I’ll make the money. Factory work pays good.”

I chuckled. “Why you talkin’ like this? Making a woman out of me.”

“You made a fine stew last night, and I’ve a mind to enjoy your cookin’ for a long while.”

I gulped. The sentiment toasted my cheekbones, but the memory…

“There’s not been a day since I got here that I ain’t thought on you, Blaze,” Sawyer said.

I gulped again. What nightmare led me to this heavenly moment?

His severe eyebrows tilted toward me. “You know what I mean.”

The strings of my heart knotted up and trapped the air from my lungs.

“Wherever we go, I don’t care. But I wanna be with you,” Sawyer said. His hand crept across the wool to lace a finger under my palm, like toeing the temperature of water. His gaze never left me as he enclosed my hand within his.

I’d hungered for these words and these actions for long months. It was but the circumstance of employment on Campbell’s ranch that brought us together half a year past. Six months of sleeping, working, and sharing bedpans with a man of so fine a caliber.

Hearth fire’s reflection danced upon Sawyer’s pupils in the dark lodge.

I felt the pull towards him from my chest. The perfume of soot and Sawyer’s man musk quickened a fire within. His brows arched in anticipation for my reply thus unspoken, but I was nigh speechless at his beauty.

“I’ve been thinkin’ on you too, Sawyer. First I saw ya–was I vexed. I thought on how your magnificence must surely rival Achilles and Helen both. For naught the sun does shine–you are the brightest thing in my world.

“Remember when you pulled me from the river that day, I fell through the ice?” I continued. “I thought I’d never know warmth again. But I could see you through the glassy frost. Striking at the river’s surface until you finally broke through. Like tonight, you fished me from the whirl and wrapped me by the fire. I knew such warmth then.”

I’d stared down flames of the hearth for long moments, but turned to find a gaze fixed upon me so gently. Had anyone ever looked at me this way? Sawyer closed the space between us, drawing so near that his nose almost touched mine.

“I want to wrap you in my arms every night, Blaze,” Sawyer said, drawing closer still so I could feel his breath on my lips. “For I love you–and you alone.”

I couldn’t bear the pulsing centimeters between us. Leaning forward, I locked upon Sawyer’s doors of breath with my own–that built a cathedral to worship each other.

Awash in the rose light of our fire, we prayed at nave and altar. And when we were but exhausted pilgrims, covered in the blankets and sweat of one another, did sleep grace us.

Penny whined.

My eyes drifted open, and I felt the embrace of Sawyer’s arms around my shoulders and my legs around his waist.

A drifting moan on the wind. Not the wind, but a seeking wail that possessed tenor from something wild. Something animal. I’d heard it last night just before finding Wyatt and just after…

“Waoooooooooo… “

My heart drummed against my sternum.

I kissed Sawyer through his sleep and felt him peck me back as he awoke.

“My love,” I whispered. “The… thing. It’s out there!”

Sawyer’s eyes shot open and surveyed the shadows of the lodge. “What? Where?”

“Its cry came from somewhere close by.”

“It’s a rabid wolf,” he grumbled, kneading at his eyelids with knuckles.

He buckled his jeans and walked to the window.

I thought of poor Wyatt, the eviscerated horses, and the sundered cows. “That ain’t no wolf.”

Penny and Dime stirred and paced around the room.

Sawyer pulled himself upright to look out the window. “That’s…” Sawyer began, but crouched to the floor instead.

“What’s the matter? what did you see?”

Sawyer shook his head. “There’s… a candle burning. In the window at the cabin.”

My mind swam. I’d still not told Sawyer about yesterday. I didn't want him to know. Didn’t want it to be important. And by defying reality, I could somehow stitch together my own truth of our situation. Though, I knew otherwise.

I pressed my eyes closed and wished it all away. That the warmth of Sawyer beside me and the glow of flame was all I’d know forever. But the cold blew at the door.

“And I saw a shadow,” Sawyer said, crawling closer to me.

The lodge was filled with black, save the aura of embers in the hearth.

“We can’t go out there.” I pulled Penny to me. Sawyer frowned at us.

“Penny can chase it off,” Sawyer said.

“No, I couldn’t,” I said, squeezing her body, and she licked my face.

“Blaze, we have to live,” said Sawyer, his tone struck me in severity.

I looked at Penny with all the love I’d grown for her in the months at Campbell’s. The dogs were for herding, but the relationship grew deeper than mere work.

“She’ll come back once the wolf is driven away,” Sawyer said, petting her bronze coat.

I nodded, though I struggled to believe him. “Penny always comes home.” I wanted to believe myself.

I guided her to the door, knelt to kiss her snout, and scratched behind her ears. “My good girl,” I said with sadness, patting her rump.

The door to our lodge careened open as I set her free. Watching from the doorway, she sniffed the clouds of snow borne on the wind and set off running.

Long minutes of silence, where Sawyer held me while I shed taciturn tears.

He played with my hair and hummed an old cowboy song.

“Waoooooooooo…”

Sawyer’s song stopped at the creature’s call. Closer this time than before. Just outside the lodge.

I buried my face into Sawyer’s lap, clinging to him. “Oh, Penny. My baby girl.”

Dime whimpered, curled between the crook of my thighs and calves.

“Shhh,” Sawyer whispered, fingers twirling my locks. Though I could see, he was pulling his pistol closer with the other hand.

At the guns rattle across the floorboards, I sniffled. “What’re you gonna do with that?”

He looked at me with his gorgeous, candlelit face. “Can’t stand seeing your heart break like this, darlin’. I’m gonna kill this wolf. We’re gonna leave come mornin’ and get that factory job in the city.”

I fought the urge to cry some more. I’d already bared so much hurt. It ached more for being a selfish pain I’d caused myself, keeping so much from him.

“You can’t! Don’t leave, please, please. We’ll hide here until daylight,” I said. I sat upright and grabbed the lapels of Sawyer’s jacket.

“I couldn’t ask you to send Dime out there, and the beast ain’t far. Imma good shot, remember? You even said so yourself.”

“This is different, Sawyer. I didn’t tell you everything about last night.”

“How you mean?”

I gulped and took his hand in my own. “I saw a candle in the window of the cabin. I went to see who was there. The floorboards had sunken away at parts, and holes gave view of the stars beyond the eaves. There seemed to be no one.

“As I looked around, a shadow stirred. I shot at it out of fright, my nerves a mess. It wailed something fierce and jumped back into the wild through a window. Whatever monster it could be. It left behind the tail shot off its body. Lucky shot. And since meat’s been scarce, I skinned it and brought it home for supper. This is that beast. It’s a demon of some sort, Sawyer. You can’t leave.”

“You’re a better cook than a storyteller, handsome.”

My chin quivered. “Believe me. It sounds crazy, but it’s the same creature, and it’s my fault. I brought this on us. It wants back what I took from it. I shouldn’t have….”

Sawyer shook his head. “You didn’t bring this on us. We are in a strange new land. This is an act of nature and the devil. Mayhaps some native magic is at work. I’m gonna make it right. Wait here with Dime and don’t leave.”

“Sawyer, don’t,” I said, my grip tightening upon his hand.

He gave me a light kiss and pulled from my grasp.

“Stay put, Blaze.”

My cowboy walked to the door, thumbing back the hammer of his pistol. He touched the brim of his hat, dipping his head to me like a gentleman. A gust of snowy air intruded the lodge doors opening, and he forged out into the world.

I rushed to the window and hung my fingertips on the sill, chin pressing into my knuckles.

Sawyer’s boots crunched marks in the snow as he ambled from the lodge to the path that led to pasture. Snowflakes drifted about him and collected on top of his hat.

I watched him look left and right at the path. Brush and sparse copses of trees to either side.

The break of sticks. Sawyer snapped to his right, gun pointed into the bramble.

We heard the low and warbling moan of the creature, a warning more than the questioning whine prior.

Dime panted beside me and danced his clacking toenails on the floorboards.

I can’t stand the badgering tingle of sweat beading my brow and the inability to draw full breath.

I rushed to the door and opened it just a crack, centered on Sawyer.

The dog followed me, mewling.

“Shh,” I said, touching his head.

Sawyer stepped from the path.

Snow blasted from the brush as a shadow burst forth— jumping with incredible speed— toward Sawyer.

Dime pushed against my calves and launched from the lodge, nosing through the door’s crack.

I fumbled, grasping for him, grabbing for leg and tail, trying to keep him with me.

The flash bang of Sawyer’s pistol pierced the night air.

Pow!

Sawyer fell to his back, the shadow bearing down on him.

Our silver hound beamed and jumped to intercept the airborne demon.

The dark silhouette of the beast carried Dime away into the cluster of snow-crowned trees across the path.

Flakes of white drifted all about to the deafening and oppressive choir of silence.

I bit my lip so hard to keep from screaming.

“Jesus,” I said, voice breaking, raking my fingers down my face. My vision blurred with tears.

Sawyer rolled onto his stomach. The outline of his form and the curve of his cowboy hat rose from the ground as he stood. Sawyer raised his pistol once more.

The dry rustling of leaves under muting snow. Sawyer turned fast and fired a shot; its blast echoed through the landscape.

Then, branches stirred, Sawyer switched his footing to face the opposite way. Another splitting crack of pistol fire as he shelled into the dark.

I breathed thin winter air. My pulse pounded in my ears.

There was the soft padding of something else. And the jarring grate of nails upon wood.

Above. The roof.

Timber planks creaked beneath the creature’s weight; I heard it upon the eaves by the fireplace.

“Sawyer,” I croaked.

He did not turn his head. Looking this way and that, probing the shadows, leading with his revolver.

“Sawyer,” I said louder, pleading.

He must’ve heard me, for he raised his hand, asking for silence, oblivious to why I called.

The rasp of claws continued, finding further purchase on the roof planks as it climbed.

“SAWYER,” I shouted, pointing up, pulling open the door–ready to run to him.

He whipped his head to me, and I could see the snow reflected in his gray eyes, shadowed by his hat. His gaze drifted upward.

The lodge’s lintel groaned, accompanying the throaty roar of the beast. Its enormous shadow descended from the top of my vision, lightning-fast, tackling Sawyer.

Pow, pow, rang out a volley of the pistol.

“Blaze!” Sawyer cried. The creature and he, turning white powder, twirled from being on top of each other to upright.

I jumped, feet pounded the soft ground, bounding for him.

The creature’s snout shot forward, taking Sawyer by the shoulder, and it lept from sight.

Sawyers’ screams faded into the black.

I stopped, hot breath fogging as I heaved. My hands upon my knees, I could see where the two fought, and the dark splatter of blackish blood dotted the milky rime all around.

The pain pumping through my veins was core deep.

I knelt one leg at a time, hands sunk into the snow, and my face dropped, steaming tears rolling from my eyes to burrow in the ice.

I was truly all alone now, and so soon after discovering heart’s fire. Sawyer, the best man I’d ever known. His last words: my name.

He fought until the end. And so would I.

The glinting of metal caught my eye. His revolver still smoking from its barrel. Fifteen yards away.

Boots digging into the earth, I sprinted to the path and snatched the gun. Turning on my heel, I pumped my legs as fast as I could, denim chafing my thighs. Terror blackened the periphery of my vision. I could see only my destination, the open lodge door.

A momentary wash of relief occurred when I crossed the threshold. Clutching the handle, I latched and locked it with a sturdy board across the frame. Then, rushing to the corner, I sank against the wall by the hearth.

Scratching at the door caused my muscles to seize. I pulled back the pistol’s hammer.

Boom.

The board across the door jumped as tremendous force crashed into the other side. Splinters tinkled onto the floor.

Boom.

The door shattered, and winter’s breath coursed through the lodge. A towering shade filled the door’s void.

I gulped and pulled the trigger. The brilliant flash of the revolver’s discharge illumined the beast for a second.

Hirsute and broad, it stood there on two hind paws. Its squat face and yellow moon eyes drank in the flare over a smile of fangs– spawning a lurch in my stomach.

But a spray of blood flecked into the night outside.

It recoiled, a claw shooting to its shoulder. I heard its rumble of pain.

However, it did not budge.

To four feet, it sank, slinking over the threshold and into the lodge.

My ears roared, and tears spilled from my eyes. Fear sweltered dampness on my palms, the pistol handle slipping. I blundered for the hammer.

My heart drummed, pawed feet padded over creaking floorboards, and the guttural roll of the beast’s song rang out.

“Waoooooooooo…”

As my quaking fingers engaged the hammer, the animal conquered my vision. It stood just before me, menacing in size even on fours.

Its nose near touched the nickel of the revolver’s front sight. A rancor of wet fur and decay wafted from it.

I squeezed the trigger.

Click.

Nothing… it’s bullets spent.

The beast snapped, teeth sinking into my forearm.

I yelled and punched at its face, dragging nails across its nose. To no avail, it yanked me to the floor. A mere child to its strength, my shoulder met solid ground with shell-shocked awe.

It released my arm for but a moment to lap at its whiskers. Then the demon struck again, tearing at my throat.

I gasped, but ‘twas blood that filled my lungs in place of sweet air. And when it released me again, our faces inches from each other, it watched me drowning in pain as I suffocated in my blood.

I squirmed, grasping with both hands at my gushing neck, feeling death’s chill.

Nostrils flaring, smelling me from lips to stomach, where the thing lingered. I could swear it hummed its own guttural laughter.

“Hmhmhmhm,” purred the beast, raising talons it tore into my abdomen’s flesh.

Rending, breaking, taking back all I’d stolen. Til nothing was left.

Except the dark of night.