The Hunt

Far from the hustle and bustle of town, concealed by deep woodland, stood the old wooden lodge. Rose stood amongst the brush and hushed hue of daybreak as she looked upon the beat-up shack, secreted away through hours of overgrown country road.

For a second or two, she doubted herself. Many years had passed, and the landscape had changed, but the lodge looked almost the same as the one she'd fought so desperately to forget. She swallowed and clenched her hands hard as they trembled. Tears threatened to reveal her fear, but she refused to let them show, even to the woodland.

Surrounded by untamed flora and fauna, she struggled up the once grand pathway as thorns pulled at her jeans. Carefully, she walked towards the moss-covered door, took a deep breath, and knocked. She heard footsteps long before the heavy door scraped upon the bowed wood and groaned open.

‘Jeez, Rose. For a second there, we thought you weren’t gonna show.’ Jack beamed. Even through the shadows of the shack, she could see he’d aged poorly.

Rose looked down at the floor and shuffled her feet as her face flushed, unsure what to say. They stood subdued, taken aback by each other's appearance.

‘Look, we’re all here now,’ he stated softly, ‘we should at least try.’

Rose nodded, took one last look around and reluctantly entered.

The lodge was dusty and dark but had changed somewhat over the years. Most of the decor had been removed, probably when the Park Rangers or the Press had searched the place. The cupboards were open; household goods and old cans of food lay scattered across the floor. Neon tape that warned people not to cross had been pulled down and decorated the floor amongst the dust and leaves. Someone had swept most of the rubble towards the corner of the room.

Rose walked slowly around what was once a place of fun and adventure. The door to the small bedroom was bowed; the wood was frayed and hung at an angle on the door frame, barely attached. The floorboards underneath, once blood-soaked, were now a dull, rusty brown. Rose swallowed hard as sweat beaded on her forehead.

The large wooden beams held proudly overhead as scattered sunbeams broke through the darkness from the cracked wooden shutters that surrounded the room. They’d been fastened shut all those years ago and hadn’t changed. Rose remembered the sound of the sharp thuds as Jack had rushed to hammer them closed.

‘Water runs at least.’

Rose jumped, snapped out of unwanted thought as the only other door swung open. Peter Thompson emerged to the sound of a flush.

‘A good omen, perha -’ Peter stopped short as he saw her, lost for words. Tears welled as Rose waved shyly, taken aback by Peter’s appearance and large stature; He’d gotten older.

‘Good God, Rose. Aren’t you a treat for sore eyes?’ He gasped. Before she could reply, he walked over to her and hugged her hard. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much. You don’t understand how much -’

‘Shh. Hush now. My bag was packed the second Jack phoned.’

Peter pulled away and put a large rugged hand on her face. ‘Words can’t express-’ he choked.

‘Say no more. Let’s get out of here as fast as we can though, okay?’ She pleaded.

‘Of course.’ He nodded.

The day passed slowly as they took turns to watch the woods through the many small holes and gapped wooden shutters.

To keep busy, they heated tea on a gas stove every hour or so, prepped food and talked about the last decade and a half. Gradually, they caught up on each other’s news. The repeated warmth of her cup comforted Rose as the day grew long.

As the hours passed, the atmosphere grew heavy, and Rose began to pace.

‘How can we be sure?’ She asked, suddenly. The men looked over at her, concern on both faces.

‘We searched the area... there are broken trees, large branches snapped...some are even crushed. There’s a tepee structure a touch deeper through the woods on the left - we assume a den. There’s some fur scattered, large claw marks... and bones. We’re pretty sure.’ Peter answered.

‘The news reported the boy was snatched less than forty acres from here, down by the lake. The parents swear they saw a creature; one that’s large, one that watched them...stalked them before he was taken. The news stated that a bear took the boy from camp as they slept, regardless of the parent’s statement.’

Jack kneeled and spread a map across the floor. Rose frowned and moved closer as he smoothed out the edges. The map had many marked areas, drawn across the expanse of the woodland.

 ‘What are they?’

‘Encounters.’ Jack answered matter-of-factly.

‘We’re not gonna search the area, there’s no need. We’re gonna lure the monster to us. For Alex.’ Peter told her.

The colour left Jack’s face as Alex’s name haunted the room.

‘Oh God,’ murmured Rose.

‘We need you. Your scent attracted the creature before. Let's lure the bastard out. You've watched the news, Rose. Enough must be enough.’

She nodded weakly.

Jack stood up and paced as Peter unpacked a heavy bag and loaded an array of weapons. He pulled a small pack of candles from a cupboard and proceeded to place them around the room before he struck a match.

The candles burned softly as Rose nervously drank her tea. She peeked out of the shutters; Shadows had begun to stretch and dance across the woodland, slowly smothered by darkness.

Peter peered out of the gaps amongst the shutters. ‘Almost dark.’

‘Dark enough to set the traps?’ asked Jack.

‘Reckon so.’ He nodded.

Rose took a deep breath and stood up. Her legs felt weak and unsteady.

‘No, no. You stay here. We can manage.’ Jack ordered as he bent over and pulled the heavy rucksack on. ‘We just need – well, you know.’ He nodded towards her hand and passed her a cloth and a small blade.

Rose extended her arm and clenched her teeth.

‘Okay, but fast.’ She ordered. The blade cut deep but short as she whelped. Jack let the wound bleed for a few seconds. After he made sure the cloth was coated, he pulled out a bandage and wrapped her hand.   

‘Here,’ Peter passed her a small black revolver. ‘Locked and loaded,’ he reassured her. ‘We won’t go far. You keep a look out.’

She nodded.

Out there, amongst the darkness and the shadows... the beast roamed, and she was thankful to stay between the comfort of the lodge walls.

The door thudded shut.

Rose watched the dust dance through the last dull sunbeam that peaked through the cracks as the guys rounded the lodge.

Once she heard footsteps, she focused back on the large peephole at the corner of the shutter.

Jack and Peter walked past her as they headed out towards the trees. They walked fast, focused. Every few meters they stopped, pulled out a metal trap from Jack’s pack, and set them amongst the brush and overgrown fauna before they secured them to the forest floor.  

When they reached the edge of the overgrown glade, Jack placed the sodden cloth on a broken branch. Both men grabbed branches and began to knock them on the trees. Each knock echoed through the dark woodland.

Hands cupped, Peter blew loudly through them and created an awful whoop-type sound.

Each whoop he produced made Rose shake. The sound was uncanny, almost an exact copy of what she’d heard all those years ago before the creature had attacked them.

Rose shut her eyes and shook her head as a snapshot of Alex as he was dragged away flashed through her head.  She remembered how he screamed as he begged for help, how he’d fought desperately but was no match for such savage power. She clutched the gun to her chest as she shook.

Rose took a deep breath and focused. She couldn’t afford to be scared; none of them could. The guys were headed back towards the lodge. They stopped every so often to scatter handfuls of apple cores, orange peel and celery root amongst the brush next to the traps.

As they walked back past the peephole, towards the lodge door, she stared at the shadows between the trees. Her breath caught as they jumped and danced amongst the breeze.

A heavy scrape of metal, followed by a loud CLUNK, echoed around the room. The door groaned open. Jack let out one last whoop and closed the door. Peter rushed to help Jack pull an old chest of drawers towards the door to somewhat block the entrance.

‘Last trap’s set on the porch.’ He panted.

Peter blew out most of the candles and squatted next to the door. Jack fumbled through the backpack and offered Peter both a large blade and a revolver. He took them and got comfortable. Rose could see the rage and the sorrow he’d held onto all these years as they bubbled close to the surface.

She looked around the dark room and suddenly wondered whether the walls would hold up after so many years of rot and mould. Regret swarmed over her as she doubted the plan to avenge Alex. Nevertheless, she’d always known the day would come when she’d have to face her demons. She couldn’t carry on the way she was - scared of her own shadow. 

Jack frowned, as though he could hear her thoughts.

‘They’ll hold for long enough.’ He muttered calmly as he pumped the shotgun. ‘Get to cover.’

‘They can’t deny the truth when we show them the damn creature.’ Peter jeered through clenched teeth. Though he sounded calm, Rose could see how nervous he was through the shadows as she wedged herself between the wall and an old cupboard.

Suddenly, somewhere deep through the woods, a guttural howl echoed. Rose trembled as her blood ran cold. Her heart began to race as she clutched the gun close to her chest.

Jack looked at both of them and nodded.

‘Shh,’ he warned as he centred the shotgun on the large wooden door and blew out the last candle.