Laurence’s aim was always perfect, even now when doubt flooded him the moment the shot cut the air. Not for the act but the noise. He’d forgotten about that, how loud a gunshot was even in the rain. It bounced off all the metal around them and the sound echoed more than once. It only dulled when it met the greenery of the valley.

They all grew quiet and time seemed to slow. Shannon’s arm came down too late and the world swelled back to a regular panicked pace.

The gun was knocked to the ground. Mouths gaped. Gasps replaced what should have been screams. Shannon grabbed the cuff of Laurence's shirt and backed him against a nearby car.

“Eamon…?” Blood speckled the wife’s cheeks. It couldn’t be helped really, but he’d at least waited until she wasn’t holding her husband. The shot was clean enough, he thought. It was a mess but they should all be used to it by now.

“Are you insane?” Shannon’s nagging took the place of the gunshot, banging in Laurence's ears. The damn boy never gave a shit about these people before.

Looking to his left, Reid ran for the dead man. How’s that for managing, Lavelle? Laurence wanted to goad the medic but had more pressing issues.

Pushing Shannon back a step, Laurence steadied himself. “Get the fuck off of me, boy.”

The two scuffled a bit and Laurence was a little impressed with Shannon’s strength. But he still had weight on him and the brute strength to control the scuffle, even if the whiskey swayed his balance.

“Shannon, come on.” Tish tried to calm him but there was a blood-red rage in Shannon’s eyes. Behind it something worse, something Laurence hadn’t seen in the young man yet; honest to god fear.

Shrugging it off, Laurence pushed back against Shannon again.

Cautious eyes fluttered to the tree line and Shannon cursed. “You just killed us…”

“You son of bitch!” Chandra launched at Laurence in Shannon’s absence and lay a good slap on his cheek. Instinct reached out and backhanded her into silence.

Fucking strings. He rubbed his cheek as Chandra fell into Tish with a bleeding lip.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

“I warned you. I warned all of you!” The entire group backed away from him and Laurence reached down for the handgun on the ground. He stuffed it in his belt and looked over their faces. The two eldest Young children hunched over their dead father, the mother still lost in shock. The other kids hid behind any adult that would shelter them. It's about fucking time they found that fear.

“We leave. Now,” he said.

“You… killed him… you kill my dad!”

He knew to expect the rage.

Laurence turned his back to the tallest of the dead man’s children. As the young teen ran up behind him with something in his hand, Laurence was ready and waiting. Spinning around he caught the boy's small arm. The metal in his fingers was dull, wouldn’t have done much damage anyway. Didn’t help that the was all tears and scrawny to boot. Weak.

“Please, don't hurt Peter!” his mother shrieked.

Laurence rolled his eyes. “I'm not going to fucking hurt your kid.” Taking the metal and tossing it aside, he let the boy go.

“We have to move now,” Shannon hissed and picked up his pack. His eyes were on the woods. Laurence would have paid Shannon more attention but Chandra and Tish weren't far off.

“For chrissake, Laurence!” Tish cursed. “You couldn't have waited five minutes?”

“His children were right there! You could have hit one of them!” Chandra only seemed spurned on by the blow. Behind her came another child and suddenly Laurence was surrounded by nagging angry whiners.

“I don't give a rats ass what any of you think. He was dead weight and now he's just dead. Deal with it.”

“Laurence…” Shannon hissed again but Laurence ignored him.

“We are leaving now with or without you.” He turned his scorn on the wife, looking down on her small frame. Weak, pathetic, with eyes as red as her blood dappled cheeks. There was more fire in her son that glared from behind her.

Good, get mad, boy. Get fuckin’ furious.

“Laurence!” Shannon badgered again, but Laurence didn’t have the time for his bitching.

“Now make a choice. Stay with him,” Laurence said, waving at Eamon’s body, “and get ‘et, or leave with-”

A piercing sound struck him dumb. Nyssa was her name; it dawned on him as her voice sliced the rain but he couldn’t remember when he’d heard it said. The child that follows Chandra around. Quiet little girl, maybe ten? She always looked sad but that was the way kids were out here. Her scream reminded him and no one, not even a man who just put a bullet into another man's brain, could ignore the debilitating shriek of a young child’s terror.

Nyssa pointed to where Shannon had been standing. He wasn't there now, Laurence registered. He didn't see him before he heard the next most terrifying sound he'd even come to know.

A low moan. Deep, wet, and rumbling.

It echoed from all around them.

Shannon didn't give a fuck about these people, the thought dawned on him. The sound. The gunshot. The yelling. The screaming…

Laurence tried to wipe the burn of the whiskey from his lips.

The wendigo lumbered over the guardrail towards the dead body and between it stood the littlest of the Youngs. Laurence pulled his gun out in time to fire off a shot.

This time, he missed.