Dweller - Jeff Strand [13]
Still nothing.
Okay, the big decision. Did he dare venture into the cave, or should he keep throwing rocks?
Rocks. You couldn’t really go wrong with rocks.
He threw another rock, which also went into the cave. He was getting pretty good at this.
“C’mon, you toothy freak, let’s see your grotesque face,” he said as he threw the next rock. “Get out here, you big dumb ape!”
The monster walked out of the cave.
Toby’s stomach dropped as he watched it step out into the light, moving at an almost sluggish pace, like an annoyed neighbor coming outside to investigate what woke him up at four in the morning. It looked to each side, and then directly at Toby.
They locked eyes.
The monster began to walk toward him.
Shit!
Though it wasn’t running, there was definite menace in its gait, like a predator who knows its prey can’t escape and is in no rush to deliver the killing blow. Toby immediately forgot about the idea of photographing the monster and quickly grabbed the shotgun, uttering a string of rapid obscenities under his breath.
You weren’t supposed to be able to attribute human emotions to animals, but this thing looked pissed.
I’m gonna die! Toby thought as he fumbled with the shotgun, nearly dropping it onto the ground. Oh my God, I’m gonna die!
The monster wasn’t even ten feet away. Toby wanted to scream in an effort to gain its pity again, but he couldn’t find his voice. Nothing in his body ever worked when he needed it to!
But then he had the shotgun pointed at the monster’s chest. He squeezed the trigger.
For a split second Toby frantically wondered why the weapon hadn’t fired. He realized that the safety was still on. However, the monster took a big step back and let out a pitiful whimper. It held its clawed hands up in front of its face.
Toby flipped off the safety but didn’t shoot. He backed up a few paces, putting enough space between himself and the monster that he didn’t feel that his bloody death was seconds away. The monster kept its hands over its face, almost sounding like a puppy as it whimpered in fear.
Toby felt a bit of his courage return. “That’s right, asshole!” he shouted, waving the barrel of the gun at the monster. “I’m a lot scarier than you, aren’t I?”
Picture. He needed the picture. Unfortunately, he wasn’t sure how to snap the picture while still keeping the shotgun safely pointed at the thing that wanted to devour him. He backed up a couple more steps, and then tried to balance the shotgun with one arm while grabbing
the camera with his free hand. The instant the barrel wavered, he changed his mind. Maybe he’d skip the photograph.
No. That’s why he was out here, risking a great big bite mark in his throat. If he didn’t get proof, he’d have wasted the effort. He needed some kind of reward for all of the forthcoming foot pain and nightmares.
He let out a snort of laughter. The answer was obvious. He rested the barrel of the shotgun on one of the tree branches, keeping it pointed at the monster. After a moment of hesitation to make sure the branch didn’t snap under the shotgun’s weight, he picked up the camera with his left hand and peered through the viewfinder.
Say cheese…
He snapped a quick photograph. It might not have been a very good one, but he didn’t want to get greedy. He let go of the camera and clutched the shotgun in both hands again.
Now what?
He could shoot the monster. Blow open its chest, get photographs of its corpse from every possible angle, then bring the authorities back here. He’d be world famous. The coolest kid in Orange Leaf. Maybe the coolest kid in Ohio.
The monster lowered its hands from its face.
No, he wasn’t going to kill it. You didn’t kill something like this. It could be the last of its kind.
Or it could be one of thousands, which were circling him at this very moment. That was a new spin on the situation that Toby hadn’t considered. He nervously glanced around at the trees around him, but there didn’t seem to be any