"Who is that?" Phillip sobbed. He repeated the question as Ry tried to gently turn the boy around and away from the decapitated head, the severed limbs, the blood dripping into the dirt, the whole gory tableau. The kid seemed smaller now, younger. Ry hoped Phillip was resilient. Therapy wasn't cheap.

In the distance, shrill cries rose from the woods. Ry could feel it in his chest.

"Don't look at the gate," Ry said. "We're walking around the side of the gate. We're gonna slip through the barbed wire and go to my house. We'll call the cops and fingers crossed they'll take us seriously."

Once Ry positioned Philip in front of the barbed wire fence on the right of the blood-stained cattle gate, he put a foot on the lower wire and pulled the middle one up, ushering Phillip through the gap. The boy leaned down and put a foot through, hopping the rest of the way and falling into the grass.

"Look ahead, you'll see a trailer. Go inside, I got a dog, he'll take care of you!"

Phillip crawled through the grass and leaped up, running across the white rock road to the trailer, his arms flailing.

"Okay, okay," Ry said to himself. He could hear the flies buzzing, a cloud around the severed limbs. Around the head of his landlord. Jackson, what the hell happened? He tried not to think , to just focus on the next steps. Home. Cops. Is there anyone else to call? There should be someone. Animal control?

Ry looked around him to watch for more of the creatures. He felt a chill, a nervous shaking hit his hands. They were close. He rubbed away the sweat on his forehead. The crunch of footsteps in the dirt made him turn.

"Fuck."

Beside him stood a figure. One of the creatures? No, this was a man. He wore a dark leather mask, no eye holes, but a massive jaw, human in appearance, was affixed to the mask. His outfit was made from tanned skins, with dark patches that looked like oil stains. The entire thing was stitched together with thick threads. A belt circled his waits, he could see the skin of the fingers and a hand hanging loose.

The man held Jackson's head in his hands, turning it over, examining it. He dropped it and raised his head.

"What in the ever-loving fuck?" Ry whispered.

The figure brought a finger to the jawbone and gently shushed Ry. It nodded to the woods behind him, where the howls resumed. Ry backed away. The man didn't give chase. He backed up to the fence, unsure of whether this lunatic would come at him once Ry's back was turned. He sucked in air and dove through the barbed wire, it snagged his pants and tore through them, gouging his left leg.

Ry hissed and collapsed on the other side, looking briefly at the bleeding wound. He scrambled away. Once on the road, in the brilliant burning sunlight, he looked back. The man was gone.

"Just one thing at a time please. I can only handle one thing at a time!"

Ry burst into the trailer. Phillip sat on the couch, West Donaghy in his lap. The dog sat up, tail wagging. Ry took his phone from his pocket and called 911, telling them everything. Then he called again. The third time, they threatened to have him arrested. He begged them to do just that.

"Yes! Come down here, arrest me, just hurry!"

The operator hung up. Ry raised his arms and dropped them, letting the phone clatter onto the floor.

"What did they say?" Phillip asked, scratching West Donaghy's ears

"They're not coming. Listen, I'm going to take you home. You know your address?"

"Yeah," Phillip said. He watched the door and swallowed hard. "Is it safe?"

"Totally," Ry said. "We're safe. We're going to...go..."

Mosquito buzzing. But not the insect. The sound was deep in his head. He felt hot, like he was standing on asphalt in August.

"You hear that?" Ry asked.

Phillip nodded.

He felt scared. Not a normal fear, not what you get from a scary movie or particularly creepy book. This was no cemetery stroll fear. He was prey.

Before he could speak, the entire trailer rocked. Phillip fell back onto the couch and rolled to the floor. West Donaghy barked and growled, and Ry slammed into the small kitchen counter. He slid to the floor holding his sided, wondering just how many ribs were broken.

The trailer shook again. Then again. The smell filtered in, these things were walking garbage dumps. He heard them grunting with each push, others behind them laughing and whooping.

Ry motioned for Phillip to crawl to him. They could go out a window maybe? Would these things chase them to a highway, would they let themselves be that exposed?

He heard a whistle. The rocking stopped. The creatures were silent. The whistling continued, as a shape slammed against the door. He could see fingers sticking out on each side of the door frame, as the creature ripped it away like it was paper.

"What do we do?" Phillip cried.

"I'm thinking," Ry said, his voice shaking.

They heard another sound. A roaring engine. Then a scream and the sound of crunching metal. The creature in the door fled so fast, it was like teleportation. Ry stood up and struggled to the door. Outside, he could see a truck, smoke pouring from the caved in bumper and hood. One of the creatures was sprawled out in front of the truck, still. The rest of them were gone. Completely gone.

Elizabeth fell out of the truck, blood trickling down on her forehead. She slammed the door shut and screamed.

"Elizabeth?" Ry said.

"Pissed on the crosses!" She screamed. "One of those goddamn devils was pissing on the crosses!"

The memorial for her son. One of the things defiled it, and she ran it down with a goddamn truck. She feared neither God nor beast.

Ry raced to her, and caught her as she stumbled and almost collapsed. Phillip remained in the doorway, sitting down and clutching West Donaghy, who rested his head on the boy's shoulders.

"Those things attacked us, tried to get the kid," Ry said. "Are you okay?"

"Yes, are they coming back?" Elizabeth asked, breathing hard.

"My truck works, we can run," Ry said. He looked at the creature on the ground, still but he could see the rise and fall of its chest. It was alive. It was going to be pissed.

"Get in the truck, my keys are in the middle console," Ry said. He yelled at Phillip to get in the truck.

"What about West Donaghy?" He asked.

"He'll be fine, let's go!"

He got them inside and started the truck. It rumbled to life and the AC started to blow. Ry remembered his phone. He needed to warn Erin. She couldn't walk into this. He bolted to the trailer. Elizabeth yelled at him to come back.

One look inside the trailer, with the trashed furniture, dangling cabinets and their worldly belongings scattered all over the place, and Ry knew finding the phone would take time.

Erin.

He ran back to the truck.

"Do you have a phone?" Ry asked.

"At home on a charger. I have a gun though."

"Good. Good! Okay, take him home. I'm gonna find my phone and head to the highway."

"I'll take care of the kid." Elizabeth unbuckled and crawled over to the driver's side. She pushed Ry away and slammed the door. He barely saved his toes as she hit reverse and peeled away.

The creature on the ground was still, but his head slowly side-to-side. It mumbled. Ry went inside the trailer and started to sift around for his phone. Finally, he found it. The screen was shattered, but it still seemed to work.

He started the call to Erin when West Donaghy growled. The mosquito buzz hit Ry's brain and he cursed under his breath. Behind him, one of the creatures stood in the doorway. Leaner, smaller with a face that appeared to have been severely burned in the past. The eyes glowed, illuminating the scar tissue and upturned lips, the teeth gleaming. The body was patched in hair, the skin seemed loose. This was an older creature.

Ry could hear the phone ringing. Pick up, Erin. Pick up.

The creative opened its mouth and started to make a sound.

"H-h-h... Hugh. Hugh."

"Hugh?" Ry whispered.

He heard Erin on the phone. "Hello? Ry?"

"Hugh. Hugh."

Without raising the pine to his face, Ry screamed for Erin to keep driving.

"Don't come here. Those things. They're here."

"Ry? What are you saying?"

"Keep driving! Get help and a lot of guns!"

The creature smiled. It spoke again.

"Hugh. Man. Human."

Then, it laughed. Its own laugh this time.

* * *

Elizabeth tore down the white rock road. Phillip gripped the shoulder strap of his seatbelt. She glanced back at the boy, his eyes wide and mouth pursed shut, breathing hard through his nose.

"What's your name?" Elizabeth asked.

Before he could answer, he saw the creatures running alongside them. The truck jerked left as one slammed into it. Phillip screamed and Elizabeth tried to correct, but had to punch the brakes as the truck hit the telephone pole, crushing her son's memorial. The airbag burst and forced her head back. She fought against it, calling out to Phillip.

"Are you okay?" Are you okay?!"

She heard him whispering.

"Monster. Monster by the truck," Phillip said.

The airbag deflated and she tried to wave away the cloud of talcum powder. Goosebumps prickled her skin and she stopped moving. At the open driver's side window, she could see one of the creatures. It was massive. The creature's head almost filled the window. The thing licked its lips, its small brown eyes, with a hint of red, focused solely on Elizabeth. The creature looked more human than she would have assumed. Most pictures people make of bigfoot show essentially a big gorilla. There was a lot of humanity in this thing's face, and it provided no comfort.

She lowered her right hand to her side. She started open carrying just after the accident. She told people living alone after her son died made her feel vulnerable. That was a lie of course, the driver of the truck that killed her son was drunk, and while her son died, he walked away with barely a scratch. Elizabeth knew if she was patient enough, and watched the school closely enough, she could have a chance to take her shot.

Elizabeth unholstered the gun.

"What did you say your name was?" She asked Phillip, never taking her eyes from the creature's grin, drool running from its mouth.

"Phillip."

"Phillip, honey, I'm gonna need you to cover your ears. Right now."

She knew practice would never compare to the real thing, so she was pleasantly surprised with how easily she turned the safety off, aimed, and fired into the creature's face, turning two-third of its head into a red mist. The thing dropped. In the distance, she could see more approaching, they howled and started to run to them, dropping on all fours.

"Two wrecks in one day. Hell."

"What do we do!"

"Right. Phillip!" Elizabeth called, undoing her seat belt and opening the driver's door. She went to the driver's side passenger door and pulled Phillip out. She glanced at the crushed memorial. I'm sorry, she thought. She grabbed Phillip's shoulders and took a deep breath, speaking gently as she could.

"Just follow me, it's gonna get loud."

* * *

Erin found Ry's truck crashed into a telephone pole at the end of their road, right by the highway. She slammed the brakes and jumped out. The truck was empty, the driver's door and passenger were open. She walked closer, and could see blood pooled in the dirt and dotting the grass.

She got into her car and drove to the trailer. The door was ripped away, the front porch crushed, shattered and scattered around the yard. The windows were broken, and the smell of piss and shit were overwhelming. The creatures left multiple gifts in the house.

"Ry?"

West Donaghy ran from under the trailer.

"Westy! What happened? Where is Ry?"

She scanned the area, but it was quiet. No sign of them. Except the footprints in the dirt. She saw several coming to the trailer, and others leaving, all to and from the path, from the path to Jackson's place.