Legend of Kill Creek Woods by Brett Williams

Author:Brett Williams [Williams, Brett]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Comet Press
Published: 2014-04-26T00:00:00+00:00

Recovery

* * *

Faced with rehabilitating himself, the man was forced to hire help to complete the year’s harvest. He chose a young man and down-on-his-luck father nearly his own age. Both drank too much but the man couldn’t be choosy. Work needed to get done. Their wages of course would cut into his take. With only himself to feed and clothe this year, the man figured he could get by for the time being.

What did he plan to do about the creature though? He didn’t know.

A part of him urged himself to notify his neighbors and the townsfolk. Another part of him, a much wiser part, warned against such foolishness. Could an entire posse armed with rune-carved iron bullets be able to kill the beast? Perhaps. Could he convince enough people to join him in hunting down his phantom with magically enhanced ammunition? Doubtful. The appearance of the creature proved sporadic at best. If the man tried notifying people of the danger, he would simply bring his sanity into question. Although he kept mainly to himself, his reputation stood unblemished. What if he “cried monster” and nobody believed him? Perhaps the death of his family would then seem suspicious.

Instead, the man vowed to recover from the attack and keep watch over the area—at least for the time being.

The two farm hands tended the fields adequately, with the man’s constant supervision. The effort kept the man busy enough, as did watching the pups grow. In time his wounds healed. In fact, to help work out the stiffness in his mending leg, the man walked into town to attend the ribbon-cutting ceremony for the new school. He noticed new home construction on the way. It seemed as if the entire town were in attendance. Men, women, and children enjoyed a bountiful outdoor feast, in honor of the event. A civic leader as well as one of the schoolteachers gave speeches. The other three teachers greeted would-be students and their parents, welcoming them to the town’s new school, which would be starting classes in little over one week, immediately preceding the season’s harvest.

The man knew most townsfolk, and more than once did someone ask about purchasing one of his dogs. He respectively declined sale and informed the prospective buyer that, due to the demise of his bitch, there would be no dogs for sale this year. He expected to have a litter or maybe two the following spring.

When asked about the demise of his prized terrier, the man simply said, “She bit off more than she could chew, out in the woods, and never made it back.”

“What do you think got her?”

“I haven’t the foggiest.”

On several occasions men inquired about his limp.

“Oh, nothing.” He waved off the inquest. “Minor accident. I’ll be fit as a fiddle in no time.”

The meet and greet soon became a guided tour of the four-room schoolhouse. The interior of the structure held no particular interest to the man. He had seen enough. Kids of all ages would be attending this school.

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