Exile to the Stars (The Alarai Chronicles) by Dale B. Mattheis Page B

dropped the antlers, Jeff
caught movement out of the corner of his eye. He was startled then alarmed when
he saw gray, ghostlike shadows gliding through the woods at the border of the
meadow.
    “If
those mothers are coyotes, I’m a dwarf!”
    That
comparison did nothing for his peace of mind. He grabbed the antlers, back
peddled with all his might and brought the deer skidding along. The glow of the
campfire seemed the most cheerful thing he had ever seen. Frequently peering
into the circle of darkness, Jeff butchered the deer as fast as he could. His
imagination did the rest.
    “I
can’t leave the carcass here, but those things were big! Oh, shit!”
    He
set an armload of venison on a handy boulder and took hold of the antlers.
While the deer was much lighter to pull, it still seemed like an anchor.
Although he had never been afraid of the dark, Jeff discovered foot by foot
that he wasn’t too old to learn. He had not gone far when he couldn’t stand it
and dropped the carcass.
    “I’m
outta here!”
    Jogging
back with pistol in hand, he fully expected something to take a crack at him.
When he trotted into camp, Jeff already heard sounds of a commotion in the
direction of the carcass. While it wasn’t loud like lions quarreling over
position at a kill, Jeff knew without doubt that the deer carcass was being
torn to shreds.
    Hurrying
to gather extra firewood, he muttered, “Polite carnivores?” The idea was
absurd. The commotion eventually settled down to an occasional loud pop that sounded
like bones snapping. “No sleep tonight, that’s for sure.”
    Dropping
a final armload of wood on the pile, Jeff occupied his time touching up the
edge of his saber. The sword and pistol were very reassuring. Eventually all he
heard was the creaking of insects. The recorder filled more time, but his heart
wasn’t in it. He knew that something was out there. Jeff threw more wood on the
fire and imagined a big thermos of coffee. It didn’t help. Found out by the
day’s stress, his head slowly drooped and he nodded off.
     
     
    A
snapping in the fire awakened Jeff with a start. Horrified that he had fallen
asleep and allowed the fire to burn down to coals, he grabbed a piece of
firewood. Something moved on the other side of the fire, and he froze.
    “Oh
my God! They’re here!”
    A
number of inkblot shadows were grouped on the opposite side of the coals.
Glowing orbs of green and red seemed to hang suspended in the shadows, giving
the impression of monstrosity. Jeff tossed the piece of wood on the fire and
moved back against the tent. It was a big piece of wood and a vortex of sparks
shot into the air. Fighting a nearly irresistible urge to take off running, he
yanked the saber free.
    Illuminated
by the slowly growing firelight, six creatures that looked as big as Shetland ponies
took shape. Sitting motionless, they stared at him with unblinking intensity.
Another minute and they still had not moved. Jeff relaxed a fraction.
    “Okay,
they haven’t jumped you yet. Maybe their bellies are full and they’re only
curious. Let us hope!” The piece of wood was full of pitch and flared up. “Shit
they’re big,” Jeff breathed. “They look like wolves, but I’ll bet they run at
least 250 pounds and stand four feet.”
    Jeff
figured his prospects in a free-for-all and knew he wouldn’t have a chance,
pistol or no pistol. He tossed more wood on the fire, the wolves turning their
heads as if linked together to follow his every move. Several let tongues loll
out of partially open jaws that looked big enough to swallow a rabbit whole.
That and they way they were looking at him really irritated Jeff.
    “Those
bastards are enjoying this!”
    Easing
tense muscles and grimly clamping his jaw, Jeff focused on the biggest of the
lot. “All right, bucko, this seems to be your game. What’s it going to be?” He
shifted the saber to his left hand and unsnapped the holster.
    “Greetings,
two-legged brother.”
    His
mind lurched and