Dennis Yates - Minus Tide

They rubbed their noses against him, as if asking that he bend down and pat their heads. He stood still. Anticipated the coming tide that would soon flow up through his legs and into his blood, the bodies of the dogs moving faster and faster against his legs until he thought he smelled scorched cloth.

He stared down at Ann as his body shook. Unable to stop the ghosts from moving up his body. Now a cold electric current that made him clench his teeth.

A memory floated back above the waves of pain. The vision of Ann running naked through the dark woods. Of laughing about it then because he hadn’t understood its significance.

The dogs were excited. They wanted to chase the elk woman through the woods. And they wouldn’t denied.

“Leave her alone,” Chad shouted.

Cyclops turned and stared, his body now charged with the energy of the dog pack. The boy was where he’d left him. His eyes were open and he was struggling to get up. Cyclops drew the knife from his jacket and the dogs barked excitedly.

Ann leaped forward and grabbed his arm. He lifted her up and pitched her against the concrete wall. She struck her head before dropping to the ground. Shards of broken glass bit into her palms. She felt him snatch her by the hair and lift her up against the wall and for a moment she saw silver motes dancing in the corners of her eyes. He leaned in close and waved the knife in front of her face.

“Don’t interfere, elk woman. Unless you want some of this.”

“What are you doing?” she cried.

“I think it’s his time, don’t you?”

“You don’t have to hurt him. He hasn’t done anything.”

“Why should it matter to you what happens to the boy? You just said a moment ago that nothing was permanent.”

“Then take me. I don’t think he’d even be here if it wasn’t for me.”

Cyclops stared at her. His single eye seeming to have filled his entire forehead like that of an insect. Ann gasped and looked away.

“I’ll take care of one thing at a time.”

“You’re crazy!”

“I know. But the dogs always get what they want.”

“The dogs? What dogs?”

“You don’t see them?”

“No. You’re just imagining them.”

Cyclops laughed. “I’m not surprised you’d say that.”

He let her go and started toward the boy, wading through the thick river of dogs that now filled the parking lot. They fought and howled for the best place to watch. He refused to look at them, didn’t want to see their faces anymore.

He heard a familiar sound and stopped. Recognized the growl of an engine. When he looked up toward the highway he saw the lightless van roaring down the empty highway. He looked over his shoulder and saw Chad struggling to sit up.

Not yet boy. Not just yet.

He ran up to the drive and waved. The van skidded to a stop in the middle of the highway. Sat while its engine boiled. It was too dark to see who was inside.

“Joseph,” he shouted.

The door swung open and the sheriff slid out and landed on weak legs. His clothes were covered in blood. His eyes moved slowly, as if he’d been hitting the whiskey. They paused on Ann. What is she doing here?

“He says he’s going to kill us,” Ann screamed.

The sheriff raised Cuke’s.45 and pointed it at the Cyclops’ forehead.

“Toss the knife to me. Slowly.”

Cyclops grinned. He lobbed it toward the sheriff and it landed next to his feet.

“Now get your ass on the ground. Before I blow out that goddamned eye of yours.”

Ann followed the sheriff’s orders and ran to check on Chad. He didn’t appear to be bleeding anywhere that she could tell. But his face and hands were pale and he was cold to the touch. She noticed deep bruises around his neck. When he’d heard her voice he’d looked up and smiled weakly.

“Can you walk?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where do you hurt?”

“All over…”

She lifted his arm and flung it over her shoulder and helped him to his feet. His legs were wobbly.

“I don’t know about this.”

“You’re going to have to try and help me Chad. We don’t have a lot of time.”

“Where are we going?”

“There’s a boat down below. It still has a little gas left in it.”

“But the sheriff is here.”

“I don’t think we can count on anything.”

Cyclops watched as the sheriff seemed to expand and contract with each wave of pain, the barrel of the.45 still leveled at his face. He noticed the dogs sniffing hungrily at the sheriff’s legs. The blood that had soaked through his pants now trickled across his boots.

He still hadn’t lain on the ground as the sheriff had ordered. He’d seen something in the sheriff’s eyes that gave him hope that he wouldn’t have to. It was obvious the sheriff was teetering on the edge consciousness.

The dogs raised their heads and whined. As loud and piercing as a railcar crying against steel and causing his ears to ring. He looked down and saw their human faces superimposed like bloodless masks. Men and women whose lives he’d taken. Some deserving and others just unlucky.

Many would want to argue with him at first, especially the traitors. They’d say they didn’t deserve what had happened to them, that it was someone else he should have killed. And at first he would argue back, list each offense that may have conveniently slipped their minds, and this seemed to quiet most of them.

It was the others that he felt bad about, the ones the dogs had forced him to claim. They hadn’t deserved the knife, and every time he saw them his heart would ache with guilt until after the years the guilt lifted and he accepted what he had done and what he would do to others in the future.

The sheriff seemed lost in a daze. Each time he closed his eyes Cyclops took a step closer until Cyclops snatched the gun from his hand and whipped him across the face with it until he dropped to the ground.

“You can have him if you want,” Cyclops told the dogs.

He checked the chamber to see if the gun was loaded. It was not.

Getting down the gangway hadn’t been easy. Chad had stumbled forward several times and almost sent them both over the railing. When they reached the dingy Ann helped him on board before heading to the back. She pulled the rope-starter and the motor kicked to life and began churning up black water. She sat on the cold aluminum bench and saw Cyclops staring down at them from the concrete seawall.

We’re going to make it out of here.

She was about to put the motor in reverse when Chad looked over his shoulder and pointed at the dock.

“Wait… You forgot the rope.”

Ann glanced at the dock and felt her stomach roll over. Sure enough, the boat was still tethered. She’d been in too much of a hurry to untie them from the dock.

Come on. Don’t lose focus now…

She set the motor in neutral and climbed out of the dingy. As she worked to loosen the rope, footfalls began thundering down the long gangway. Cyclops was heading toward them, dragging the edge of his knife along the steel handrail as he went. She could see that Chad was trembling with fear.

“Chad.”

“What happened to the sheriff, Ann? He was supposed to protect us.”

“You’ve got to help me.”

“No. I don’t want him to hurt me again.”

“He won’t Chad. But you have to listen to me. I need you to take over the motor. I might not have time to get back there.”

Her fingers were numb. The rope was sticky with frost and not coming loose easily. She could hear Cyclops getting closer. She turned and saw him grinning at her as he advanced, the knife singing against the steel rail.