Beast in the Cattails

       A curtain of clouds rolled in from the east that plagued the evening sky. Kenneth knew there would be no outrunning nature today, especially in the condition of his worn F-150. Without a glance at the slumped woman in his passenger seat, Kenneth turned on the radio that welcomed static into the vehicle. The wearied man turned the dial steadily until he found the channel with the ever-repeating EAS message.

             The message alerted the country of unidentified organic lifeforms that have ravaged and most likely still ravaging many states and major cities. The strange lifeforms made poor imitations of known animals due to their bacterial cell composition. Authorities have stressed avoiding any contact with these animals as a single wound can inflict fatal infections. The message concluded with a list of evacuation sites in the local area.

             Atlanta, Georgia would be the closest site to escape the nightmare. The mere thought of the city caused Kenneth’s heart to be replaced with a rusty slab of lead. Atlanta had some of Richie’s favorite hobby stores. Kenneth would take his son to the big city to celebrate special occasions that would top off a great day with a new airplane model or some of the best mac and cheese Richie ever tasted.

             Olivia jolted awake which had nearly caused Kenneth to veer off the abandoned road. The woman adjusted her bleached hair in a bun with almost no effort and it showed. Kenneth fixed his eyes on the cracked road ahead, littered with potholes. He felt Olivia’s gaze over his right shoulder but refused to acknowledge.

             “How are you feeling?” Olivia’s soft voice competed with the EAS radio message.

             Kenneth turned down the radio before he replied.

             “You mean how am I doing? Fine.” Kenneth spoke.

             “You know what I mean. I’m trying to look out for you.”

             Kenneth fought the primal urge to attack anyone who would pry into his innermost thoughts and emotions. He was fully aware of Olivia’s intentions yet still viewed her concern as a pestilent bug looking for a way to get inside him. He gripped the steering wheel and made out a small structure in the far distance.

             “I appreciate your concern Liv, but don’t do this. Not now.” Kenneth said.

             He briefly locked eyes with Olivia’s soft brown gaze to cement his statement.

             “There’s a chapel up ahead, I say we call it a rest for today.”

             The truck slowly left the tattered road and kicked up a dust storm of gravel as it drove closer to the chapel. Kenneth parked the vehicle a few feet from the off-white building. Olivia leaned forward to take in the ruinous structure along with the kudzu vines that had nearly swallowed it.

             “How much further until Atlanta?” Olivia asked.

             She continued to examine the church, keen to catch any movement.

             “Not too far. I don’t want to continue in the rain.” Kenneth said as he pointed behind him in the direction of the storm clouds.

             Olivia turned to see clouds that churned over one another. The grey clouds that started off with the day had evolved into ebony masses of lightning. Olivia’s chest tightened, she could feel the anxiety that had been awakened by the sight of the storm.

             Kenneth and Olivia exited the truck in unison hoisting their backpacks over a single shoulder. The humid winds greeted them to the outside world of marsh flatlands that Kenneth had been accustomed to seeing since leaving their last location.

The two friends explored the petite chapel making small use of their flashlights; to their surprise, it had been untouched by humans or creatures. A few broken doors here and there but raiders vanished when nothing of importance was found, Kenneth assumed.

             Olivia sat at the first row of pews and set up her backpack as a pillow, each sound echoed throughout the chapel. Ken kept his flashlight on and stood it upright on the floor as he sat beside Olivia.

             “I don’t want to be alone in the dark,” Kenneth said before Olivia would comment on saving battery life.

             Olivia sat up.

             “You’re not alone.”

             He was.

             What felt like years to Kenneth was only 24 hours. In Kenneth’s eyes, losing Richie was God’s way of telling him that his life has now ended and he has entered limbo. A mix of rage and sorrow continuously toiled within Kenneth. Constantly repressing rage had been too taxing on the man, who collapsed beside Olivia. Kenneth turned off the flashlight to hide the emotions that seeped from his face.

             “I have to go back.”

             Kenneth felt Olivia’s body jerk in response.

             “Where?”

             “The gas station, the warehouse wherever that bastard is hiding.”

             Olivia kept quiet, she checked her raw response before she chose her careful wording.

             “Ken, I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but I really don’t think –”

             “I’m not asking for permission, Liv. I need to kill that thing, I can’t…I can’t continue like this.”

             “We barely made it out alive and now you want to confront it? We’re lucky it gave up chasing us!” Olivia’s frustration reverberated through the church.

             “You don’t understand, and I don’t expect you to.” Kenneth contrasted Olivia’s emotions with a soulless tone.

To have a monstrous entity take a child’s life so ruthlessly, so nonchalantly, gave Kenneth such rage and anxiety. Kenneth paused his line of thought; it was not just a child, it was his only son. He arose from the pews and grabbed his backpack; Kenneth’s mind would not be changed.

             “Ken! Are you serious? Right now, you’re going to head straight into the storm?”

             “Yes.”

             Olivia had not anticipated such a true, unfiltered response.

             “And what, you’re going to leave me here?” Olivia’s voice quavered with uncertainty.

             “Wait for me. I’ll come back for you.”

The constant downpour obscured Ken’s vision of the road. The waters flooded the marshlands on both sides of the asphalt that created a sleek coat of water that Ken couldn’t escape from. Fields of cattails revealed themselves to Ken just a mile out; he was close. Ken’s heart fluttered with adrenaline and regret. The beast that took his son was a primal juggernaut that man was never meant to know. Ken questioned his reckless impulse to return to the territory of the beast.

             Ken’s eyes located the silhouette of two structures in the storm; one on each side of the road. To his right was a deserted gas station that still shined that tired neon sign of scarlet and gold. Ken was positive it should have died by now but the sign remained like an eerie lighthouse in the storm. On the left side of the road stood a behemoth warehouse structure that never finished construction; it had been neglected long before the country went into a state of emergency.

             The truck made its way to one of the gas pumps. Ken shut off the vehicle and the stillness of the truck enduring the heavy rain gave him a reminder this was indeed real. Bursts of lightning contrasted the black sky, thunder soon followed. Ken couldn’t move; his eyes focused on the warehouse across the street protected by a moat of cattails. He wondered if his son’s body still remained inside or if the beast had devoured it completely; the rage that started in his heart spread like a virus and empowered him to leave the truck and prepare.  

             Ken braved the storm and searched the back of the truck for a spool of barbed wire. The warehouse loomed in the distance that watched each movement. With every action Ken performed, he glanced at the building, the lair of the beast. Creeping thoughts of the animal leaving the warehouse and peeking through the cattails entered Ken’s mind and temporarily immobilized him with dread. Ken shook off the fantasy each time he failed to find a pair of predatory eyes through the large plants.

             Pure strength would not best the animal, Ken knew this and would have to approach with keen ingenuity and preparation. Ken protected the footway of each entry into the gas station with three rows of tripwire fashioned out of the barbed wire from his inventory. After setting up his last trap, Ken emptied four gallons of gasoline around the perimeter of the building and hoped the rain would not jeopardize his plan. Ken would spend the next hour preparing for his showdown.

             Ken looked ahead to the warehouse; with preparations complete there was nothing left to keep him at the station of armored snares that no animal could anticipate. The further Ken walked away from the building, the less confident he felt about his machinations. One foot after another, Ken dissociated from his body, and his mind piloted his feet toward the warehouse. Ken’s emotions ran rampant, but he refused to let them compromise his task. The instinct to live clashed with vengeful rage; Ken could still turn back now but wouldn’t.

             The flooded wetlands were much deeper than Ken remembered. The cattails hovered over Ken’s head shrouding the environment in mystery. The waters poured into Ken’s rain boots as his walk soon became a trudge. Ken deduced the warehouse was near as he lost all visibility except for the towering rooftop emerging from the forest of cattails.

             The creature was attracted to light. During the first encounter with the beast, Olivia and Richie consistently had their flashlights active, and each time the beast found them. Ken had made several attempts to create boisterous clashes of metal in the warehouse to deter the beast from his son and Olivia but it paid no attention; it must be hard of hearing.

Ken arrived at one of many entries of the warehouse, but he wouldn’t dare step inside. Without a second thought, Ken turned on his flashlight and aimed it into the building. It was flooded, littered with wooden debris that clashed with one another in the darkness. Ken’s heart banged in his chest with such speed it felt as though it would levitate from his body.

             A splash of water echoed through the interior.

             Ken braced his flashlight as he felt each heartbeat on the edge of his fingertips, his lips, and feet.

             A guttural croak huffed in the darkness of the warehouse followed by a few high-pitched cries that faintly resembled an animal in distress.

             Ken continued to scan the building through a large entryway. Beyond the wooden debris, Ken spotted a tremendous mass of coarse fur underneath a metal staircase that leaped through the waters. Ken nearly abandoned his flashlight as he spun around giving his best effort to run through the wetlands. The predator crashed through the floating trash in an attempt to leave the warehouse. Ken assessed the sound of the beast and acknowledged he would not be able to outrun it, not in the cattails. He killed his flashlight and continued to run to the neon-lit gas station. The beast followed Ken’s trail despite the loss of light. The wheezes and cries of the animal imbued an alien kind of horror that spread in Ken’s veins; an amalgam of a crying person distorted with a maimed beast.

             Ken hoisted his legs up onto the asphalt of the road, relieved to put the swampy cattails behind him. Foolishly, Ken paused and turned around to analyze the distance between himself and the animal. The cattails acted as an organic curtain obscuring the darkness even further. With a cacophony of growls, the predator propelled itself through the wetlands onto the road. The neon lights casted vibrant glows on the sickly creature’s anatomy.

             The beast was a hideous mockery of a boar. The snout of the animal ruptured like a blossoming flower of sinuous flesh and teeth. The hind legs of the beast were hooves with little to no skin, exposing bone and muscle; this contrasted with its front legs that resembled paws of a wild bear damp with rain or blood, Ken could not tell. The beast charged at Ken with an outstretched claw. Ken retreated to the back of his truck with full sprints that tore at his tired muscles. The predator clashed headfirst onto the hood of the truck. The vehicle shook violently and knocked Ken back against the gas pump. Ken stayed on the ground and kept a watchful eye on the beast’s movement. The animal’s claws disappeared from sight along with its hooves. Again the truck shook as the beast made its way to the back of the vehicle.

             It occurred to Ken that the beast no longer had an interest in light, it paid no attention to the glowing sign of the station. It was searching for Ken. Ken silently moved to the engine of the truck, appreciative of the storming rain that minimized his sounds. With a powerful burst of energy, Ken sprinted to the open entrance of the gas station. A painful wail broke through the storm and the metal of the truck clashed with the predator’s limbs as it beast took off after the man. Careful not to slip over the gasoline he poured, Ken dove over the three levels of barbed wire he fashioned at each exit. Ken crashed shoulder-first onto the floor with a poor tumble. The beast collided with the wires with a troubled yelp that soon turned into a growl of frustration. The wires were easily torn from the frame of the door but had ensnared the beast and sent it into a frenzy. Ken took the opportunity to grab a shovel he positioned behind the counter within the building and charged at the confused beast. He angled the shovel so that each strike would inflict maximum pain. The first strike hit the nape of the beast. The creature was unphased as it continually made attempt to rid itself of the coiled barbed wire that sunk into its flesh. Again Ken struck the beast three more times, the second and third attacks broke the skin of the animal.

             Ken realized the damage he caused was not sufficient enough to maim the animal; he continued regardless. He imagined Richie, how scared his son must have been being so close to this relentless behemoth. How much fear was welted up inside his son only to be disregarded by the violence of this uncaring beast. The pain Richie must have felt having flesh torn from his body by the dozens of teeth. The imagery fueled Ken as he pierced further into the predator’s hide. The beast finally gave in and turned its attention to Ken and knocked him onto his back with a swipe of his claw.

             The beast made efforts to walk to Ken only to be interrupted by the last remaining wires entangled onto his hind legs. Ken took the opening window and dug the shovel directly into the beast’s girthy neck. Without wasting more time, Ken got up to his knees and headed towards the back exit of the station. The beast struggled to keep up but did so with surprising speed. Again, Ken dove over the barbed wires fashioned at the door frame. Ken landed on the same shoulder as before which caused a great deal of pain against the concrete. The beast failed to learn, having no capacity for intelligent thought, and entangled itself once more. The animal retreated inside. The beast sent out an anguished cry and Ken reveled in its frustration and pain.

             Ken sluggishly rose to his feet and held on tightly to his left shoulder. There would be no time to recover and Ken searched his pockets for his zippo that was gifted by his son. With a few attempts, the fire sparked and without a second pause Ken dropped it onto the gasoline that surrounded the building. The initial force of the igniting gasoline caused Ken to take a few cautious steps backward. The heat of the powerful flames immediately replaced the cold rain on Ken’s skin and the brightness of the fire contrasted heavily with the darkness of the storm. Ken covered his eyes at first but forced himself to see the beast’s final moments.

             At first, the beast was intrigued by the light of the flames but recoiled painfully at the burns the lashing flames had inflicted on its mouth. Panicked, the beast charged throughout the station and collided with the last remaining shelves. In a fiery whirlwind of desperation, the beast mindlessly escaped the station through an open window. The wires intertwined with the predator luminesced into a gleaming orange. Ken contemplated whether the burning beast should wither away in flames on its own accord. Remembering Richie, Ken knew the beast had to perish by his hands.

             The back of the gas station was mostly vacant with the exception of an empty dumpster that had been knocked over by previous raiders. Ken had planned for any situation, the dumpster was equipped with a baseball bat and crowbar should his encounter with the beast lead toward the back. Pulling the crowbar out into the rain, Ken stormed to the burning beast and despite the immense heat, assaulted the predator one blow after another. Occasionally the crowbar would feed into the animal to which Ken tore flesh dismembering the howling beast completely.

The charred carcass was unrecognizable in the rain. Ken stared at the body until his energy had fully returned. It pained Ken to know that somewhere in that blackened pile were the last remains of his son; he would never get a proper burial. Ken allowed his emotions to surface and grieved for his only child in isolation. He never imagined his son’s resting spot to be an abandoned gas station.

             Ken felt the pressure of continuing onward to make the most of his life. He hoped to find an evacuation site with Olivia to establish a new life with every decision in honor of Richie.