Suspense

Edges of the Firelight

There was something out there.  What it was, Jonah couldn’t tell.  At least... not yet.  He squinted into the darkness, beyond the red glow of the campfire, but nothing revealed itself.  

“Hold on Grandpa, I got you.”  Jonah’s cousin, James, grabbed Grandfather’s elbow with one hand and hooked his other below the old man’s armpit for support.

Grandfather eased down to sit on a log around the fire.  He wheezed heavily with labored breaths, rubbed the stiffness in his knees, then pushed his hands out into the air closer to the fire to gather some of its warmth.

Jonah returned his gaze to the darkness beyond and stared.  He turned slowly and tried to capture anything that returned a reflection of the fire in its eyes.  But nothing was there.  I swear I saw...

The camp began to bustle with the night’s dinner preparations and the group was beginning to get settled in.  Tree stumps and fallen logs became the chairs at the dinner table.

Spoons scraped across tin plates.  Comments of the spice in the hot beans were exchanged.  Loud sips of coffee, water, or whiskey were taken amidst the quiet of the night and the crackle of the fire.  

Grandpa looked up from his coffee cup and stared through the fire into the darkness beyond.  Jonah noticed and followed his scrutinizing eyes.  Two pale, green dots appeared beyond the camp and Jonah’s blood grew cold.  What could that possibly be?

Jonah reached behind the log he was sitting on and grabbed his rifle.  Others in the group followed Jonah’s lead and moved to arm themselves as well.  Grandfather put his hand on Jonah’s and said, “That won’t be needed.  Whatever it is, it’s not here for us.  It’s just stoppin’ to look.  It’ll leave soon.”

Jonah looked from his grandfather’s blue eyes to the green eyes that reflected the light from the campfire.  They just stood there in the dark.  The creature was unknown—a shape not clear or even present.

Everyone around the fire stiffened, waiting for some kind of signal to put movements into action.  Some hands held plates.  Some hands curled fingers around coffee cup handles.  And some hands tapped index fingers on the side of their guns.

Stillness and hesitation hung in the air with the smoke from the fire.

Then they were gone.  The two pale eyes turned away from the direction of the camp and disappeared.  

Jonah stood and tried to block the glare of the fire from his eyes to see into the darkness better.  A hand tugged at his pants pocket, urging him to sit down.

“It’s not here for us.  I’m sure of it.”  Grandfather wasn’t looking at Jonah, but instead out into the night, farther left from where the green eyes once hovered.

“How can you be so sure?” Jonah inquired.

“Because there’s too many of us.  There’s a fire.  And we have guns.  Those are things animals know about us in groups this big.”  Grandfather glanced over at Jonah.  “Put your gun away.  Those eyes are more curious than harmful.  You won’t need that.”

Jonah leaned his rifle against the log he now sat on, feeling uneasy and unprepared.  When conversations sparked again, the food got finished, and drinks were being capped closed, the uneasiness soon left.  Dinner was officially over and plates were passed around to Gerald who took them to a tub filled with stream water.  

Jonah set his unfinished whiskey cup down on the ground and stood up.  “Here, I can help with that Gerry.  You’ve done enough with making dinner.”

“No, that’s alright, I’ve got it.”  Gerald put his hands up and turned to the dirty dishes.  Looking over his shoulder at Jonah he said, “You’ve got dinner duty tomorrow so save yourself the trouble.  You’ll have your hands full then.”

Jonah shook his head and smirked.  He lowered into a squat and sat down once again, picking up his cup to finish the night’s libation.  The cup’s edge met his lips and a high pitched growl rattled the dry branches that hung around the camp.  Leaves hung in the air suspended with the smoke and the call of the night’s bandit.  

The group in unison jumped to their feet, dropping utensils and cups to reach for guns.  Grandfather tapped Jonah’s leg, trying to push himself up.  Jonah heaved grandfather out of his sitting position and pulled him up.

“So do you think it’s still just curiosity out there?”  Jonah threw the question at his grandfather along with a smirking glance while placing the butt of the rifle on his shoulder.  

The look from Grandfather was troublesome, though.  “You’re right.  That’s a challenge.  Not out of fear.  Not a warning one either—that’s got bite to it.”

Others in the group grabbed their flashlights, and their guns, and walked towards the growl.  “Spread out!” one of them ordered.  “No crossfire either.  Make sure to stay together in line.”

Grandfather looked out as the camp emptied to cover ground.  Then he looked down at the ground and cocked his head as if he were listening for something.  Jonah stopped to watch him.  But feeling the moment pulling on him, Jonah turned and walked out to join the others.

“Wait,” his grandfather said.  “Listen.”

Jonah looked back again at his grandfather but a gunshot rang out through the hills from one of the men walking out into the night.  Jonah jolted and gripped his rifle, throwing his gaze back into the trees.  The silence drifted in like a thick fog.

Then a bootleg kicked the fire, embers flew, and shadows danced on the tree limbs above.

Jonah looked back at where his grandfather was standing.  A pair of green eyes gripped their teeth into the shoulder of the old man and was dragging him from the edges of the firelight and into the dark.  Its golden fur rippled and darkened with shadowed and shuffled steps backward.

Jonah stepped towards the cougar and raised his rifle.  Let him go, dammit!  The cougar looked to Jonah, jerked his head, and closed his eyes, tugging Grandfather with one huge motion.  Grandfather grimaced and yelled in pain and terror toward Jonah and the fire.  His struggle against the animal did very little.  Drag marks were made in the dirt, and leaves and brush were making way for the predator and his prey.

Jonah felt the trigger on the tip of his finger.  The cougar gave one more pull on Grandfather, making him yell once more.  There wasn’t a clear shot.  Like a hostage, the cougar made sure Grandfather was between him and Jonah.  With a shot of pain in his temple, Jonah thought once more: Let him go!  

With a great yank, the cougar gripped into Grandfather, and with what seemed like the last bit of firelight to bypass, the cougar let his prey go.  It opened his jaws and stood in a half-crouch, half-pounce stance, staring at Jonah.  Grandfather slumped heavily forward into a sitting position, limp and lifeless.  Jonah paused—shocked— with the sudden change in events, but quickly came to his senses.  After his grandfather sank down into the leaves and bushes, he pulled the trigger.  

Darkness sunk in, the curiosity was gone, and grandfather lay motionless on the forest floor.