Forest of Savages by Rookie Burwick (nonfiction book recommendations TXT) 📕

his hands and knees. Pine needles that littered the forest floor stabbed into his hands. The tiniest spot of blood trickled from each of the wounds. He jumped to his feet and grunted at the pain. A low, angry growl came from his right. He looked over to see a tall, man-like figure glaring back at him with small, beady eyes. The thing was covered from head to toe in brown hair. Yellowing, sharp teeth showed in a large snarl as the growl passed through them.

 

His whole body trembled with fear. The creature stood its ground, but didn’t move an inch toward him. He kept eye-level with it. Its eyes were pure evil. A plan formed quickly in his mind. He’d ignored it for some reason all this time, but now it was clear.

 

Run.

 

Getting his legs moving was going to be next to impossible. Step after slow step he began to edge away from the creature. But it snarled and started towards him. He froze for another split second, then turned and ran as fast as he possibly could.

 

***

Even through his own panting, Jed could still hear the loud thumping of the creature’s footfalls. It was oddly loud when it ran.

 

Inch by agonizing inch, he came closer to reaching the truck. If he could just make it to the door, and get inside, he might make it. Was this the horrid beast that had been making the howls? Was it the thing slaughtering deer? The questions engraved in his mind through all the panic, fear, and disbelief that controlled him.

 

The creature let out a low-toned roar, fueling his energy in running. Now, he was mere seconds away from the truck. He slammed against the door and ripped it open. As he jumped inside, the creature grabbed him, and dug its claws into his flesh. He tried to let out a howl of pain, but the creature silenced him.

 

It wrapped its sharp claws around his throat and squeezed hard. He felt blood coming up through his throat. The taste was already in his mouth. The creature stared into his eyes, and snarled. He tried to pull the creature’s arm from his throat, but it wouldn’t budge.

 

Then, the creature threw him across the road, and into the grass beyond. It used great force as it did. He landed hard on his back. Blood finally spurt up through his mouth. But he didn’t let that slow him. The creature was still standing by the truck, watching him. He waited a long while, giving it the idea he was dead.

 

But he didn’t have much time to think. The creature let out a loud howl. The chilling noise made him grip the grass below him. It was so awful, so nerve-racking. . .more howls rose up from the forest. There were thousands of the creatures. And they were coming his way.

 

Not another second went by before he jumped to his feet and ran down the road. He didn’t care if the creatures followed. He just kept on running. The creature howled again, this time it sounded more like an angry battle cry. The same sound came from the other creatures that will still hidden in the forest.

 

Now, the monsters, the beasts, the creatures. . .whatever they were, they were angry. He ran faster now. His arms flung back and forth in the air faster than the speed of light. Sweat drenched him. The temperature was rising quickly. The humidity was getting worse every second.

 

It wouldn’t be a long run to the cabin, if he could just stay ahead of those creatures. Hope that he could stay ahead pummeled through him. There hadn’t been any sight of the horrid creature, or its brethren. But in an instant, that became terrifyingly different. He looked over and saw one of them running through the trees, alongside the road. These creatures were much faster than he thought. The creature that taunted him was already ahead of him by several feet.

 

He was only half a mile away from the cabin. . .he could feel the moment of triumph against the creatures. . .but the one ahead of him jumped out in front of him a few feet away. He skidded to a halt, and ended up landing on his back in the rough dirt.

 

The creature jumped on top of him, and tore into his chest. The last thing he remembered was the creature’s loud grunts, signaling the other creatures. It tore open his throat, and then drug his body off into the forest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TWO

Nick Gluteere stared at the building from inside of his truck. The idea of getting motivated to go inside was a tiring one. He had just gotten done with a job, and wasn’t quite ready for the next one. In the business he was in, jobs were back and forth. They were either scarce, or rapid. The sheriff had asked for him specifically, so honor should’ve outweighed motivation by far.

 

It was now late afternoon, and the sun was beginning its slow journey to the horizon, behind the mountains that towered over the town.

 

Nick was a big game hunter. But he didn’t just hunt for himself. It was his livelihood. His job.

 

He and his men were the best there was in the entire town of Wallace, and in Shoshone County itself. If some rich local wanted a trophy of elk antlers on his wall, but didn’t like to hunt, or if a farmer had something knocking off his livestock, then Nick came into the picture. He and his men had hunted several dangerous animals, including bears, mountain lions, and some wolves.

 

This job offer he was about to listen to sounded very important. The sheriff had called him personally about it. He’d said it would bring Nick publicity and some quick cash. The publicity was what Nick wanted the most. Plus, a good bundle of cash kept his stomach full.

 

Nick finally opened the door and stepped out. The building was larger than the windshield had showed it to be. It was nothing but a smooth, white cement-like substance on the outside, and overly-cleaned carpet on the inside.

 

He slammed the door, hit the lock button on the key, and charged toward the door that read Shoshone County Civil Clerk in white lettering that had obviously seen better days.

 

There was an annoying tone that rang off when he pushed open the door. The man at the front desk, a tall, bulky man with slick brown hair and glasses looked up at him.

 

“What is it?” he asked.

 

“I’m here to see Sheriff Prine,” Nick replied softly in his squeaky voice.

 

The man pointed over his shoulder.

 

“The very back office.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Nick nodded at the man, rounded the desk, and took off. It was a signal-story building, so the ‘very back office’ was only a quick jog away. The door was blank, but still looked professional.

 

Nick knocked three times sternly on the door, and then waited. A few seconds went by before the door opened. An older man, white hair, and a white mustache, wearing a cowboy hat, peered back at him.

 

“Ah, you must be Nick,” the man said, smiling.

 

“That’d be me. Are you Sheriff Prine?” he asked.

 

“Yes sir, who else would I be? Come in,” the sheriff stepped to the side and beckoned Nick in.

 

He smiled and entered. The room was small, only containing a large desk, a trash can, and a few framed photos. Dozens of papers were scattered across the desk’s surface. The walls were plain white, and the floor was the same blue carpet as the front room. The sheriff turned to him, and extended his hand.

 

“Sheriff Cole W. Prine.” Nick smiled and shook Prine’s hand. It was cold, but held a firm grip.

 

“The name’s Nick Gluteere. But just call me Nick.”

 

“Alright, I’ll do that.”

 

The sheriff seemed to be a very easy-going, yet stern man. Nick liked a person like that.

 

“I hope you don’t mind the mess,” Prine said, taking a seat behind the desk.

 

“Oh no, I understand. My place ain’t much better,” he replied.

 

Prine took a gulp of water from his water bottle, and then looked Nick in the eye.

 

“Now, let’s get down to business.”

 

“Yes, I’m very curious as to what this is all about.”

 

Nick took a seat on the opposite side of the desk, and peered back at Prine, whose eyes were turning cold.

 

“I’ll have to tell you the circumstances first,” Prine began.

 

“I figured.”

 

“How’s that?” Prine raised an eyebrow.

 

“Well, you’re the sheriff. And you want me to hunt an animal down, correct?”

 

“Correct. But, this isn’t your average, everyday bear hunt.”

 

At the sound of this, confusion filled Nick’s eyes. Prine saw it, and continued.

 

“About two months ago, we received a report of a nasty bear attack from a local. According to his report, this man he’d found was a friend of his. Jed Lance was the victim’s name.”

 

Nick scooted around in his seat.

 

“Huh, I know just about everyone in this town. Never heard of this guy.”

 

“Well, he lived way up in the mountains. He was a woodcutter who had just moved to the area, only a few months before the attack.”

 

“I see. Go on.”

 

“So, some deputies and I rushed up there to his cabin where the man had said the body was. The man was still there to give his report. We called in some specialists to look over the body. They said it was just a bear.” Prine paused, and looked down at the table.

 

“Well? Was it a bear?” Nick asked, now engulfed in the man’s story.

 

“Not in my eyes, it wasn’t. They were judging by the claw marks. But I looked at far more than that. The body was mangled and tore up so bad, it just didn’t make sense for it to be a bear. If bears get angry, they will attack. But I honestly don’t think they’ll do that much damage.”

 

“I’ve seen what they can do. They usually eat on the carcass for a bit, then walk off.”

 

Prine looked him in the eyes again. “Exactly.”

 

“This was worse, wasn’t it?”

 

Prine nodded.

 

“Yeah, a lot worse. The body had been completely skinned. Nothing but flesh and bones.”

 

Nick nearly gagged. “That. . .bad?”

 

“Yeah. It was downright awful.”

 

“How the hell did you identify him, then?”

 

“Well, we drove up a little ways further, to his work site. His pickup was still there. On the window, it looked like blood had been splattered a bit. The door was open. There were signs of struggle.”

 

He was surprised Prine had paused when he did.

 

“What signs were there?”

 

“They were spots of grass that had been torn from their roots. It looked like he’d taken a fall into some pine needles a few feet from the wood piles,” Prine paused and shook his head.

 

“Anything else?”

 

“We also found his axe. It had been broken in half, like a stick.”

 

This nearly took his breath away. “A bear couldn’t have done that.”

 

“No boy. It wasn’t a bear. I know that much.”

 

“Then, what do you think it was?”

 

Prine thought for a moment, then shrugged. “That’s where you come in.”

 

Nick raised an eyebrow.

 

“You want me to identify it?”

 

“I want you to at least try and find its trail. We’re looking to bag a cat at the end of the day.”

 

“But then. . .”

 

“Don’t worry,” Prine interrupted. “We’ll handle the body of the animal.”

 

Nick leaned back in his chair.

 

“We’re there any animal tracks at the scene to indicate what might have done it?”

 

Prine’s face grew even colder.

 

“No, that was the weird part. Not a signal footprint to be found. At least not outside his cabin.”

 

“Were there footprints at the woodcutting sight?”

 

“No animal tracks, but there were some human footprints?”

 

Nick saw uncertainty in Prine’s eyes. It started to bug him, but he needed to focus. He managed to ignore it, and continued on.

 

“That’s weird. Were they like, shoe imprints?” Nick asked.

 

“No, it looked like the guy had been barefoot. But, I don’t know. Maybe it was all a trick from those Bigfoot buzzers.”

 

Nick leaned forward and rested his elbows on the desk.

 

“That’d be the closest thing I can think of,” he said.

 

“So, let’s get to the business