David Robbins - Thief River Falls Run

“What’s the matter, Josh?” Bertha asked, noting his expression.

Joshua started to bring his hand up, to point, at a loss for words.

Bertha crouched, spinning, the Smith and Wesson up and ready. Too late.

The thing was already directly behind Bertha, calmly standing there, apparently studying her.

“Look out!” Joshua finally screamed.

The brute lashed out, its right arm knocking the shotgun to the ground.

Before Bertha could recover, the creature struck with its left arm, catching Bertha on the side of the head.

“Bertha!” Joshua shouted, taking a few steps in her direction. What should he do? Try to distract the thing, make it come after him?

Bertha was lying on the ground, groaning. The shotgun was out of her reach.

The female brute stood over Bertha, watching her, saliva dripping out of the corners of the cavernous mouth.

Joshua waved his arms, frantically striving to distract the thing. “Here! Over here! Leave her alone!” Maybe, if he could draw the creature away from Bertha, Bertha might be able to get the shotgun and shoot the brute.

“Try me! Leave her alone!” Joshua yelled.

The creature ignored him, kneeling, reaching down to touch Bertha’s hair.

“Leave her alone!”

The brute looked up at Joshua, annoyed by the noise.

“Over here, you monstrosity!”

The thing decided Joshua wasn’t much of a threat and returned its attention to Bertha.

Bertha’s eyes flickered open. “What the hell…”

The brute growled, the long fangs exposed.

Bertha tried to rise.

The creature slammed her to the ground with its left hand, then placed that hand on Bertha’s chest, pressing down, preventing Bertha from rising.

“Let me up!” Bertha screamed, furious. “Let me up, you ugly bitch!”

The brute hissed and cuffed Bertha with its right hand.

“Joshua!” Bertha shrieked. “Joshua? Help me!”

Joshua wavered, his mind racing. What should he do? If he went any closer, the thing would get him too. He had to stop the creature! But how?

“Joshua!” Bertha screeched, her voice breaking. “Where the hell are you?”

The brute, growling, picked up Bertha’s left arm with its right hand and raised the arm to its face.

Dear Father! What is the thing doing?

The creature was sniffing, running Bertha’s arm under its bent nose.

No! No! It couldn’t be! Joshua suddenly perceived what was coming.

The thing opened his mouth, wide, and bit down on Bertha’s arm.

Bertha screamed, twisting and turning, trying to break free.

The brute held the left arm in its mouth, blood dripping over its chin, the jaws slowly working.

Dear Father! It was eating Bertha!

“Joshua!” Bertha was hysterical now. “Save me!”

What do I do? Kill the thing? Could he do it? The brute appeared to be slightly human. How could he morally condone killing the creature if there was the slightest possibility that it was endowed with a minimal spiritual capacity?

The thing was licking Bertha’s arm, savoring the tangy taste of blood and flesh.

“Joshua!”

Joshua, wild with anxiety, frenziedly searched for anything nearby he could use as a weapon. A rock. A limb. Anything.

Nothing.

“Joshua!” Bertha renewed her feeble efforts to break loose.

Joshua ran toward them, then stopped. The shotgun was too close to the brute. If he tried to grab it, the thing would nail him.

Dear Father!

“Joshua! Joshua, please !”

Were there any guns left in the SEAL? Joshua dashed to the transport and jumped in. The Warriors had taken their firearms with them, and the rest of the confiscated weapons were hidden at the edge of town.

Bertha was sobbing and thrashing as the brute gnawed on her arm.

Joshua couldn’t stand to look! He glanced down, at the floor behind the driver’s bucket seat.

A gun!

The Ruger Redhawk he had dropped on the floor, the gun they’d taken from the motorcycle rider who’d tried to kill them!

“Joshua!” Bertha wailed pitiably.

Joshua leaned down and scooped up the Redhawk, flinging his body from the SEAL, running toward the brute and Bertha. Was the gun loaded? There wasn’t time to check!

The thing saw him coming and released Bertha, rising.

Joshua stopped, amazed at how tall the creature was.

“Shoot it!” Bertha had twisted onto her side, and was holding her left arm pressed close to her body.

Joshua raised the .44 Magnum and aimed at the thing’s face.

The creature hissed, showing a mouth filled with red froth and chunks of dark flesh.

“Shoot it!”

The brute stepped over Bertha, ignoring her, and came toward Joshua.

Joshua could feel his blood pounding in his temples, and he trembled as his finger tightened on the trigger. “Please!” he pleaded. “Don’t make me shoot you!”

Bertha struggled to her knees. “Don’t talk to the damn thing! Shoot it!”

The creature was only feet away, coming on slowly, confidently, as if sensing Joshua’s inner turmoil.

Joshua felt sweat line the palms of his hands as he tried to will his finger to fire the Magnum. “Don’t come any closer,” he warned the thing.

“ Shoot it !” Bertha bent over, her head touching the grass, dreading what was coming.

“Please!” Joshua begged one last time.

The brute suddenly roared and lunged for Joshua.

The .44 Magnum fired, the bullet striking the creature in the forehead, bringing it up short, a stunned expression on its horrible face.

“I’m sorry,” Joshua said softly.

The Redhawk cracked again, and again.

The thing was slammed backward by the impact, howling as it dropped to the ground, the muscular limbs still twitching.

“I’m so sorry.”

Joshua walked up to the brute, placed the barrel against its head, and pulled the trigger.

“May the Spirit forgive me.”

Joshua, abruptly weak, sat down on the grass, the Redhawk falling beside him. He couldn’t seem to focus his thoughts. What had he just done? Killed another creature! “Thou shalt not kill.” Violated one of the Ten Commandments! Rejected every moral and spiritual imperative! He sagged, feeling a need for sleep.

“Don’t faint on me, sucker!”

A firm hand gripped Joshua’s shoulder and shook him.

“There might be more of them things around. We got to get back to the SEAL!”

Joshua tried to touch Bertha, but his arms wouldn’t rise.

“It’s okay,” she was telling him. “The thing is dead. You did real good.”

Joshua nodded. “I did real good,” he repeated, mumbling.

“What’s the matter with you, Josh?” Bertha asked. “It was it or me. I’m glad you picked me! I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever fire that gun!”

“I killed it,” Joshua said numbly.

Bertha stared at the gaping holes in the creature’s head. “You sure as hell did!”

“I killed it!”

“Hey? What’s wrong? Is this the first time you’ve ever killed somethin’?”

Joshua nodded.

“Well, don’t blame yourself. God had a lot to do with it.”

“God?” Joshua gaped at Bertha, uncomprehending.

“Sure enough. When that thing was comin’ at you, I thought you weren’t ever going to shoot. So I did like you told me. I talked to God,” she said proudly.

“You talked to God?”

“Yep. I told God I didn’t want us ending up as dead meat, and I asked if God would help you fire the gun.”

“You did what?” Joshua’s head was clearing and he stood.

“You bet. I asked God to make your finger pull the trigger. I talked to God inside my head, just, like you said I should.”

“You asked God to help me kill?”

“Sure did.” Bertha was beaming, despite her pain. “And damn if it didn’t work! Maybe there is something to this God business after all!”