The End Is Here by Heath Stallcup

Author:Heath Stallcup [Stallcup, Heath]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, science fiction, Action & Adventure
ISBN: 9781792127694
Google: hAKHwAEACAAJ
Publisher: Independently Published
Published: 2019-01-02T01:03:10+00:00

Chapter 9

Buck slowed his pace again so that his dad could catch up. He glanced over his shoulder and moaned as he waited a moment for the man to trek up alongside and pause, bend over, and catch his breath.

“I swear, the hills are getting steeper,” Bob huffed. Buck simply shook his head as he glanced at the flat space they had just covered.

“I’m thinking she might have followed the sound, Dad.” Buck pointed toward the hill that concealed the concert.

Bob raised an eyebrow and studied his son. “You sure you’re not just wanting to go listen to the music?”

Buck turned and shot his dad a hateful look. “I’m looking for Mom.”

Bob held his hands up in defense. “Okay, okay. Just asking.” He stood erect and stretched his back. “I suppose it’s possible she headed that way. We haven’t seen any signs of blood or, well, anything in a while. She could have gone in any direction.”

“That is sort of the general direction that grumpy guy pointed,” Buck offered.

“He was a grouchy son-of-a-bitch,” Bob muttered.

“Language, Dad.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Bob sighed as he prepared to climb the next hill. “But he was.”

The two headed toward the sound of the rock band playing over the next hill and passed numerous camp sites along the way. Neither stopped to ask any campers if they had seen Lucky. By this time, they assumed that, had they seen her, they would be either hurt or still talking about seeing a dirty naked lady running through the woods. Something like that doesn’t occur every day. At least, Bob didn’t think it did in a family-oriented park. There was nothing mentioned in any of the pamphlets received in the mail, anyway.

Buck suddenly stopped and Bob nearly ran into him. “What’s wrong?”

Buck turned to him and held a finger to his lips, motioning him to be quiet. Bob’s eyes narrowed as he studied his son. Buck tilted his head as if he were trying to listen to something, but Bob couldn’t tell how the boy could hear anything above the noise coming from the concert. Buck turned and looked at him as if questioning him.

Bob shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t hear anything.” he mouthed to him.

Buck stepped toward the thick woods along the edge of the trail, his hands pulling the crossbow pistol up and to the ready. He motioned to Bob to move forward. Bob simply nodded and slowly began moving forward again, his eyes staying on Buck the entire time. The boy crouched low along the brush and swayed slightly side to side, allowing the moonlight to help him differentiate the shadows within the thick woods. He continued to listen as Bob moved farther up the trail, but he held his position. He watched for any signs of movement, listened for a rustle, a twig breaking, anything out of the ordinary to indicate movement, but the woods remained silent.

After what seemed far too long, Buck finally stood and shrugged. Bob stopped advancing and turned to him.

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