“We’re gonna kill you!”

The angry voice that rang out from the top of the ridge was actually very welcome as it helped him locate his pursuers.

About fifty yards behind me and at the top of the ravine, Jeremiah surmised.

He saw the glow of a large fire through the trees when he looked back and could smell acrid smoke. Jeremiah grimaced. He hadn’t meant to set their barn on fire.

Who in their right mind uses an open-flame oil lamp in a wooden building full of highly flammable material, anyway?

He had only been in the compound on a dare. It was widely known in certain circles that the Midnight Mountain Militia was one of the largest growers and traffickers of marijuana in the region. It was also widely known that they were having a large recruiting rally in Paris (Idaho).

That made it the perfect time to sneak onto the property and “borrow” an ounce or two. They had hundreds of pounds of weed in the building at any given time, and they would never miss a couple ounces.

Not missing and not caring were two different things, though, and when three of the mountain men had unexpectedly returned and found him helping himself to free samples of the Rocky Mountains’ finest reefer, they had gotten predictably upset. And when he had knocked over a lamp and started a huge, intoxicating fire, things went from bad to worse.

Jeremiah was honestly surprised they had chased him instead of trying to put out the fire. Of course, he wasn’t sure how exactly you put out a thirty-foot high, raging pot fire.

“He’s down here!” Another voice shouted. This time from behind him, roughly forty yards away.

Jeremiah picked up the pace, practically running now. They knew where he was so there was no sense trying to stay hidden. He needed to beat them to the lake, then he’d have a chance to get away. He knew exactly where the militia kept a boat and didn’t figure he could make the situation any worse by stealing their boat now.

He raced down the ravine, branches slapping at his face, and bounced off trees as his feet tried to keep up with his flailing body. Jeremiah could see sunlight ahead as the ravine opened up into a small clearing and beach at the edge of the lake. He smiled as he ran.

“Prepare to meet your maker!” a loud voice boomed from ahead.

A tall, muscular figure wearing torn jeans and a dirty white tank top stood in the clearing at the end of the ravine. The man had a red bandana tied around his forehead and a close-cropped reddish-brown beard. He had a shotgun in one hand and a sledgehammer in the other.

Sunlight glinted off the gold chains around the man’s neck as he grinned maliciously at Jeremiah.

Jeremiah skidded to a stop, his feet slipping out from underneath him, sending him flat onto his back.

How the hell did he get ahead of me carrying those?!

A new voice echoed in his head, one that definitely didn’t belong to any of the men chasing him. It was somewhat feminine but had a metallic ring that reverberated through his skull.

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There was an explosion of sound and light an instant later. Pain blossomed from his chest and consumed his body.

The world faded to nothingness as Jeremiah collapsed onto the forest floor.

That bastard shot me!

***

When Jeremiah opened his eyes again, the surrounding forest was dark. He could see stars through the branches of the trees above him. He scrambled to a sitting position, his hands frantically patting his torso looking for signs of a gunshot wound. He hesitantly looked down at his chest but didn’t see any sign of injury. The pain that had consumed him before passing out was gone, though his head ached, feeling as if his brain was too big for his skull.

If I didn’t get shot, what the hell happened?

He suddenly remembered his precarious position and looked toward the clearing where the very large, very angry mountain man with multiple weapons had been standing.

He saw the man silhouetted in the moonlight, shaking his head as he looked around, presumably trying to find his weapons which were thankfully no longer in his hands. Jeremiah tensed, ready to run, as he looked around for the best escape route.

“Rarhhh!”

An earsplitting roar cut through the night. It was unlike anything Jeremiah had ever heard before.

A loud, high-pitched screech sounded from the clearing, and Jeremiah turned back toward the sound just as . . . something . . . crashed into the large man, cutting off the scream.

What the ever-loving . . . Jeremiah thought, fortunately having enough sense to not say anything out loud that would draw attention to himself.

The night was eerily silent, and he couldn’t see any sign of the man or whatever had attacked him.

“Ned?” a shaky voice called out from the top of the ridge. Jeremiah cringed, and then he heard something moving through the trees above him. It was big and fast, and a moment later—

A blood-curdling scream rang through the night air.

Jeremiah held his breath, afraid to move or even breathe. He could hear grunts from the unknown creature as it moved through the trees above him.

It’s searching for me! The terrifying thought almost sent him running.

The noise of breaking branches, maybe even entire trees by the sound of it, rang through the forest. The creature roared again, and Jeremiah felt his body tremble in fear. It took every ounce of self-control he could muster to stay still and not run.

The third person that had been chasing him apparently didn’t possess that same level of restraint and began running, scrambling up the side of the ravine opposite where the beast had just roared. A moment later, Jeremiah heard the creature crash down into the ravine. He could feel the ground shake and could control himself no longer. He jumped up and ran toward the clearing. Just as he reached the end of the ravine, he heard a third blood-curdling scream that was quickly silenced.

Jeremiah put his head down and sprinted toward the lake, veering to the right and the dock where he knew there was a boat tied. Another loud roar filled the night air just as he reached the dock. He instinctively looked back over his shoulder and tripped, nearly rolling into the water. He turned around, still on his back, and looked toward the ravine.

The source of that roar emerged from the trees, lumbering forth on all fours, kind of like a large gorilla. A very large gorilla. Jeremiah watched in disbelief as the creature stood to its full height at the edge of the clearing, the moonlight bright enough to illuminate the monstrosity.

The creature easily stood twenty feet tall and was vaguely gorilla shaped but had a lion-like head with two long fangs protruding down. Its eyes glowed red, and its mane seemed to literally be made of fire.

The gorilla-lion cocked its head to the side and looked around the clearing for a moment before its gaze settled on Jeremiah. A low growl emanated from its throat, and a smile-like expression spread across its face. It dropped down on all fours again and started lumbering toward the dock.

Jeremiah flipped over and scrambled away on hands and knees as fast as he could before pushing himself to his feet. He ran toward the end of the dock, trying to reach the boat before the creature reached him.

Can gorilla-lions swim? he wondered, terrified by the thought of the beast jumping into the water after him.

Jeremiah skidded to a stop at the end of the dock and stared at the water in disbelief.

There was no boat.