. . . circling the bear, like wolves circling an elk calf, the deer slowly closed the gap between themselves and their intended meal. The terrified black bear dint stand a chance in hell against the three large does. They were hungry and she was next up on the menu. With the speed of an arrow launched from a compound bow the largest of the trio was on the bear, fangs sunk deep into her throat. A final attempt to struggle free and then a life ending gasp, the bear was done and the feast was on. They ravaged their victim tearing flesh from the bone with no effort. When at last they were done gorging, all that remained of the once noble bear was some scraps of fur, blood soaked bones, and the skull staring up from the snow with what appeared to be tears in her now dead eyes.

CARNIFOREST

A bedtime storyBy Allan Kelson

AuthorHouse

Copyright © 2011 Allan Kelson
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4634-2288-2

Chapter One

It had not rained this hard since the day I met my friend. We had gone through some rough times, Trent and I, but we always managed to come out on top, no matter what. As we sat there in the make shift enclosure we had hastily made for ourselves to escape the relentless February rain, we began to think back. We tried to avoid the subject as long as we could, but somehow recounting that most evil of times was inevitable. "Ya know" Trent began; If it hadn't been for those damn Radner's we could have probably made a go of it in Aspen. "I know, I know," I said, wishing the subject had not even come up.

My companion Trent is a bulk of a man, standing all of 5'8" and tipping the scales at a whopping 275 pounds. He resembles a redwood trunk more than a man. I found it amazing that he had escaped, when so many others more fit and agile had fallen victim to the ordeal. But here he was none the less, and I was damn glad of it. Because what Trent lacked in physical attributes, he more than made up for in his eerie intelligence about our menacing enemies. And I'm sure that if not for my friend I wouldn't be here today. More than once I can remember him pulling my ass out of the fire just in time; or showing up guns blazing when I believed I had fought for the last time. You see Trent and I had been fighting this evil war for what seemed like an eternity, we had seen a lot, so much so that I wish I could forget a lot of the situations that we got ourselves into. There had been times that I was so terrified by the predicaments we found ourselves in that I had just wanted to curl up and cry. We had definitely seen the worst of the worst out here, and this couldn't possibly end soon enough for me. However I do know that someday when this is only a bad memory, I would be able to look back and know for certain that through it all there wasn't another living person, man or woman that could have watched my back better or done more to help me stay alive than Trent. By the same token I am sure he felt the same about me since I always seemed to be Johnny on the spot when he was in dire need. Although Trent was definitely more aware of our surroundings than me, I was able to be of help to him because of my expert marksmanship abilities. There had also been numerous occasions when it was me that came up with a strategy to get us through a hopeless situation. Together we made one hell of a team and I had no doubt that together we would emerge from this horror movie we now lived in, very much alive, war torn from battle but alive none the less. As we sat there in the rain filled forest talking about past victories and near misses, my thoughts eventually drifted back to a less hectic and dangerous time.

It was New Years Eve, my wife Marty and I along with our close friends Bob and Joan Hammond had been celebrating since early in the evening. We were traveling along a dirt road outside Manitou Springs where our companions, the Hammonds' lived. Not one of us was really fit to be driving, but as usual I took the wheel. I felt safer driving than I would have felt in the passenger seat with someone else swerving and dodging traffic. As we made our way up the winding hill to their cabin, by cabin I mean "woodland mansion", our friends though we love them dearly do not know the meaning of frugal. Their cabin was a three story home on fifteen acres of heavily wooded land, just outside the Manitou Springs town limits. It consisted of five bedrooms, four full bathrooms, a kitchen that would rival any of the five star hotels, and a living room the size of a small house. Additionally there was a large billiards room with a wet bar and on the lower level a twenty five seat home theater and an Olympic sized swimming pool. Marty and I had stayed there on many occasions, since the Hammonds spent most of their time abroad. We were there so often that most of the other locals that lived nearby thought the home was ours and treated us as if we were the rich neighbors.

As I prepared to turn into the long driveway to the cabin, I noticed an eerie light just over the ridge. I stopped the truck and trudged through the ankle deep powder till I could see over the edge. Below in the ravine was an overturned pick-up truck. I struggled to try and see if I recognized it, since we knew everyone who lived along this road. The snow was so heavy I couldn't even make out the color of the truck. With the rest of my fellow travelers passed out in my truck, I began to traverse the snow covered rocky incline towards the truck below. As I approached it from the driver's side I could see there was someone inside. I moved with a greater sense of urgency to reach the vehicle and hopefully help the occupants to escape the wreckage. I figured they had gone off the road because of the snow, and possibly the consumption of spirits celebrating the holiday. As I reached for the door I soon realized, that even if my perception for the cause of the wreck were correct, the circumstances surrounding what happened after that was no accident. The events that unfolded before me next will live in my nightmares for the rest of my life.

I was startled back to reality by their horrible wailing. Something was obviously caught in one of the traps we had set before it started to rain. I wondered how long it would take for it to either die from its wounds, or be discovered by the other deer and be dispatched.

"Hey Trent",

"Shhhhhhh", he said, with a finger over his mouth.

I waited for a signal from him before I spoke again. Trent had an uncanny ability to feel their presence even when no sound could be heard. His natural abilities have a lot to do with our survival success to this point. He lowered his finger, letting me know we were safe, at least for the moment.

"Damn it Wiz, you're going to get us nailed one of these days. When you hear them screaming wait a while before you speak. Those damn things are always close by when the smell of blood is in the air".

"I know and for the 87th time I am sorry".

I always seemed to be the one making crucial mistakes, and Trent always kept me honest about it. I was about to begin saying what was on my mind, when suddenly the screaming turned to snarling and the woods seemed to come alive with that awful growl, the growl that has come to be known as, pre-death for anyone and anything that finds themselves in the wrong place. So far we have managed to stay alive through it all but it's not for a lack of ignorance and bad moves. We just seem to be a little luckier than most. Trying to shield himself from the noises of death and the relentless downpour, Trent had managed to fall asleep leaning against his rifle. We had not slept in three or four days and I was glad to see he was able. I listened a while longer and then I too fell into a restless slumber, the living evil was taking a break, the nightmares would begin.

Marty and I had only been married a relatively short time. She was everything I was looking for in a wife. She was kind to a fault, an animal lover to rival most, she had a hippies' quality about her that made her appear exactly as she was, a peaceful happy go lucky friend of nature. We met online through one of those computer dating services, Match. com I think it was. It was a short time before we fell for each other and started dating. Our first date was a ride on my motorcycle to a bar in Manitou frequented by bikers. We sat and talked for a couple of hours effortlessly. I had a...