Stephen (ed.) - The Mammoth Book of Best New Horror 18

By noon, it was colder. Clouds capped the mountains. Looks like an early winter, papa said. Thank God, mama said. As dry as it’s been, the mountains need moisture. The creek needs snowmelt, she said. At supper, we heard wood snapping outside, the horse whinnying. Papa dropped his fork and grabbed his rifle, which he hadn’t unloaded. Mama handed him a lantern. From the window, we watched his light jerk this way and that as papa rushed toward the corral next to the shed.

He kept running. He passed the fence. The light from the lantern got smaller until I couldn’t see it in the darkness. I listened to the wind. I flinched when I heard a shot. Then all I heard was the wind again. Snow was in the air. Mama whispered something as she stared through the window toward the night. I think she said, Please God. We waited. Ruth, get Daniel his coat and a lantern, mama told me. He needs to go out and see if papa wants help.

But Daniel didn’t need to. Look, Judith said, standing on tiptoes, pointing. Through the window, we saw a speck of light. It got bigger, moving with the wind and papa’s arm. Cold filled the room as he came in. Judith coughed. Papa locked the door and set down the lantern. Something scared the horse so bad it broke through the fence and tried to run off, he said. Tried? Daniel asked. Papa looked toward the window. Whatever scared the horse took it down. Didn’t get much to eat, though. When I shot, they ran into the dark.

They? I asked. No need to alarm the children, mama told him. But everybody has to know so you can all be careful, papa said. We’re already careful, mama said. Need to be even more, papa said. They , papa? I asked. I think I saw five, he said. Judith coughed. Five of what ? Daniel asked. God’s dogs? Did they run with their tails down? Papa nodded again. But now they’re the Devil’s dogs, he said. I think I hit one. I found a trail of blood, but maybe it was the horse’s blood dripping from their mouths.

Nobody moved. Judith, get the axe and the knife, papa told me. Daniel and I need to butcher the horse before they come back. Butcher? Judith said. We’re going to eat horse meat? Daniel asked. It’s meat, papa said. When winter comes this early, we need all the food we can find.

With the dark around us, mama and I shivered and held lanterns that swung in the wind while papa and Daniel cut up the horse. Papa told us to keep staring toward the night, to watch in case they came back. He kept his rifle protected in a blanket beside him. Only Judith didn’t work. She shivered too much to hold a lantern in the blowing snow.

Look at the paw prints in the snow, Daniel said. I know, papa said. Not natural. I took my gaze away from the darkness and frowned at the prints. I’d never seen anything like them. They were like huge blobs of melted wax, none of them the same size, all big and grotesque and misshapen. Ruth, keep watching the night, papa warned me.

We put big chunks of horsemeat in burlap bags and carried them to the storage pit papa had dug next to the cabin. That’s where the meat from the sheep was. Papa set planks over the hole and put rocks on them. The cold will freeze the meat all winter, he said. At least, we won’t starve. But what about the cow? mama asked. We’ll put her in the shed at night, papa said.

In the cabin, we found Judith coughing in a chair by the fire. Even though the logs roared, she couldn’t get warm. Her face was red. Has anybody seen Chester? she asked. I thought a moment. I hadn’t seen the dog since the morning. And where’s the cat? Judith asked. I looked at the others, who frowned. Did they smell what was out there and run off? mama asked. They’d need to be awfully scared to do that, Daniel said. Maybe they didn’t run off, I thought.

Yip, yip, yip, yip . We turned toward snow blowing at the window and listened to the howls. They were close. I’ll make coffee and warm us up, mama said. Yip, yip, yip . The howls sounded closer. Papa stopped unbuttoning his coat. I’d better stay with the cow in the shed.

Dawn was only a few hours away. The morning light was grey from the clouds and the blowing snow. As Judith coughed, I peered through the frosted window and saw papa step from the shed, which was large enough to hold him, the cow, and bales of alfalfa stacked at one end. He looked pale. Stiff. His shoulders were hunched. It was the first time I thought of him as old. He peered around, ready with his rifle. Then he motioned for me to come out and start my chores and milk the cow.

The day was busy as we raced against the night. Daniel went with papa to the woods at the edge of the valley, rigged ropes to logs, and dragged them back for more firewood. They had the rifle. I washed clothes and helped make mutton stew while mama used snow water for a sponge bath to try to lower Judith’s fever.

The only smoke in the valley is from our chimney, papa said when he and Daniel got back. Through the window, I saw it snowing again, flakes hitting the pane. Mama turned from wiping Judith’s brow. I guess more people moved on than we thought, she said. Maybe that’s why those things are coming here. After the drought and the fires, there’s no game in the mountains. And all the other farms are deserted, papa said. There’s no other livestock in the valley.

After supper, Daniel put on his coat. He took the rifle off the shelf. You spent the last two nights in the shed, papa. Tonight, it’s my turn.

Yip, yip, yip, yip . In the dark, I listened to them. Judith kept coughing. Mama came in with tea from bark that papa said would lower her fever. Maybe we should have moved on, I heard mama say to herself.

Just before dawn, I jerked awake when I heard a shot.

I’m okay! Daniel yelled from the shed. The moon came out! I saw them coming! Five like you said! One was limping! Probably the one you shot, papa! I put a bullet into it! The others ran off!

In the morning, we all dressed warm, except for Judith, and went out to see what Daniel shot. The sky was cold blue. The sun glinted off the snow, making me squint. A breeze numbed my cheeks. We let the cow into the pen next to the shed and fed her. Then we walked a hundred yards, following more blobby, mis-shaped paw prints. We came to something in the snow. Fine shot, papa said. At night, with no sleep, at this distance. Daniel looked pleased. I had the moon to help me, but thank you, papa, he said.

The snow was red. The thing was brown with pointy ears and a black tip on its tail, just like papa described. Its sharp teeth were bared, as if it died snarling. The cold wind blew snow across the ground. Hard to tell, Daniel said, but that looks like a bullet wound in its right front leg. Probably my shot, papa said. And that’s your shot through its chest. That’s what brought it down.

The reason it was hard to tell is that the animal had been chewed on. Its stomach was gnawed open. Its left flank was raw. Damned things ate one of their own, papa said. That’s how hungry they are, mama said. I didn’t know they got this big, papa said. It was five feet from the tip of its nose to the end of its tail. Must have bred with something else.

But the mutilation isn’t just from being eaten, Daniel said. What happened to its paws, its ears, and the snout? From the fires in the mountains, papa said. I couldn’t make myself look at it any longer. Its paws had awful scars as if a fire had melted the pads. Its fur was singed. Its ears had ragged edges. Its snout was deformed from having been burned. This one got trapped up there in the flames, papa said.

Yip, yip, yip .

We turned toward the nearby hills. In daylight? papa asked. They’re howling in daylight? I never heard of that. Yip, yip, yip . They’re watching us, Daniel said. Yes, papa said. Ruth, get the knife so we can skin what’s left of it, he told me. Even if it’s scarred, we can use the pelt. There’s no point in wasting anything, including this. Plus, I want them to see what we do to them. I want to put the fear of God into them. Mama said, You talk as if they’re smart and can think. Oh, they’re smart, all right, papa said. When I was a kid, a trapper told me these things hunt in packs better than wolves.