Chasing Them Down: Day 8

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Killing is the easy part.

This phrase, spoken to me many times by my father, comes to mind upon occasion, and I had plenty of time to reflect upon it as I emptied the pockets of the Martin cousins.

Damned few of them knew how to do more than sign for their wages, and even then, I discovered, it was little more than an ‘X.’

It wasn’t until well after midnight that I found a hint as to where Luke might be hiding. There was, according to the information kept by Bill Martin, a hunting camp a little further north. It was there that family tended to cool their heels when there was a bit of trouble. This place seemed as good a place as any to start my search.

I was in a sour mood when I left the lumber camp, and I was downright foul by the time I was approaching the hunting cabin. My mind, I confess, was not where it should have been, and had their rifles not been so blessedly loud when they chambered their rounds, well, it would have made an unpleasant situation worse.

As it was, I heard them, and no sooner than I did, than I was on the ground. Their shots tore through the forest, and they tried to figure out where I’d disappeared to.

They might have been hunters, but I’ve been killing men since I was ten.

The fact that they had tried to bushwhack me made me a bit perturbed, and I decided they needed to suffer for it.

I left my Colts holstered and drew my Bowie knife, and I listened as I worked my way around to the right. They spoke to one another in loud, confident tones, and I don’t think they understood the mistake they had made.

They learned soon enough.

I listened as they agreed to move forward, chatting as though they were at a Sunday dinner. They walked with only a few feet between them, but still, I was able to take them both down.

Soon, I had them both trussed up and over a large fire, the flames of which I steadily fed.

As their clothing began to smolder, they told me what I wanted to know about Luke Martin, where he most likely was, and why he would go there.

Unfortunately for them, I don’t let bushwhackers die easy.

#horror #monsters #supernatural #death

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Nicholas Efstathiou

Husband, father, and writer.

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