Heavy Metal (standard:horror, 2184 words)
Author: radiodenver	Added: Mar 18 2005	Views/Reads: 3326/2318	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A Cold Winters Night

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


“Do you think we should go down there?” 

“It's not safe.  I nearly killed myself and I only got thirty feet down
the hill.”  Avery wipes a dribble of coffee from his jacket with his 
handkerchief.  “Thank God for leather jackets.”  He says. 

“Yeah, these things do keep you warm.”  Williams replies.  Both men
continue to stare at the windshield.  Williams turns the engine off.  
“It's getting warm in here.” 

“Look, some of it's still burning over on that hill.”  Avery says,
pointing to the mountain side across the valley.  “I wish we could get 
over there.” 

“These mountains are pretty at night in the moonlight, don't you think?”
 Williams says.  “Look at how those ridges stand out against the sky.  
The snow really lights them up.” 

“I like seeing the stars.  There are more stars up here than down below.
Must be due to the city lights.” 

“See – over there. This must have happened during the storm.”  Williams
points to another hill.  “There's another small fire.  I don't think 
we'd of found this for days if we hadn't seen these fires.  I guess it 
was a stroke of luck, us finding it so soon.” 

“Not many cars gonna be up here in this crap.  It's so clear out
tonight; we'd have never seen this earlier.  Would've taken days or 
weeks... some skier or hiker would have called this in.”  Avery says.  
“I hope we don't have to stay here all night.  I don't want to see this 
in the morning.  The poor bastards, never had a chance.” 

“Look, I'm gonna take a walk down the road.  See if there's enough
charge on the phone to call dispatch again.”  Williams says. 

“Yeah.  Take your portable radio and a flashlight.  If you need anything
give me a shout.”  Avery replies.  “I'll turn the spotlight on.  Be 
careful.” 

“I will.  I'm not sure I want to do this.” 

Deputy Sergeant Williams zips his jacket and puts on his gloves, leaving
Deputy Avery alone in the front seat.  Flipping the butt of his 
cigarette to the snow, he begins walking along the snowy mountain road. 
 As Williams leaves sight beyond the headlight beams, Avery turns on 
his portable radio and pushes the button. 

“Got'cha radio on?”  Avery asks. 

No answer - only static. 

“Williams, you listening?” 

No answer - more static. 

Avery honks the horn twice. 

“What's the matter?”  Williams says over the radio. 

“Nothing, just making sure you was turned on.” 

“Yeah, I'm on.  There's something in the road up ahead... Hang on a
minute.” 

Avery waits.  The radio pops with static. 

“I'm gonna try calling dispatch now.” 

Williams responds - two clicks. 

Avery lifts his cell phone, the battery has a charge.  He hits the
speed-dial button and listens to the garbled ring. 

“Eagle County Dispatch, Deputy Santana speaking.” 

“Donna.  This is Avery.” 

“Hey Billy, you guys okay up there?” 

“Yeah, we're fine.  When's the crew get here.” 

“They're on the way up the hill now.  They had to stop and chain up.” 

“Did they give an ETA?” 

“No, but I'd guess they'll be there within the hour.” 

“The snows about a foot deep on the road up here.  It's going to be
slower than hell crawling up that road.” 

“I'm sure they'll make it.  The Captain said if you called to keep your
cell phone on.  If he has any trouble, they'll give ya a shout.  There 
will be two trucks.” 

“Do you know what equipment they have with them?” 

“No, but I'll radio him and ask, hang on.” 

After a minute of silence, Deputy Santana replies. 

“Cap'n says he's got spot lights, skis, a portable heater, the regular
gear kit for mountain rescue.  He also said not to try getting in on 
foot, just stay with the vehicle until he gets there.  Everyone's been 
notified.” 

“Well tell him we aren't gonna be getting in on foot, it's too steep and
the snow's too deep.” 

“Will do.  Anything else?” 

“Not now.  I'm hang'n up, the battery isn't fully charged yet...gonna
try and save it.” 

“Later, and be safe up there.” 

“Oh, Donna...” 

“Yeah.” 

“Call my wife would you?  Tell her I'm not going to be able to pick her
mom up at the airport in the morning.” 

“Will do.” 

Avery disconnects his call and plugs the charger cord back into the cell
phone.  He hasn't heard from Williams in about ten minutes and is 
wondering what he may have found in the road when he hears a single 
gun-shot.  Keying his portable microphone, he shouts into the handset. 

“I heard a shot.  What's going on?  You okay?” 

Silence - static. 

“You okay Williams?” 

Avery is ready to exit the vehicle when the radio squeals. 

“Mountain lion.  I'm fine.  I'm coming back.” 

Avery leans out the window, pointing a spotlight up the road in the
direction of Williams.  A few moments later he sees his partner's dark 
form moving along the moonlit road into the glare of the trucks 
spotlights.  He's holding something in his hand. 

“You shouldn't be shooting at Mountain lions.”  Avery shouts. 

“I wasn't trying to hit him.  I was trying to scare him off.”  Williams
shouts back. 

“Was he coming after you?” 

“No.  It dropped this.”  Williams is holding something in the air but
Avery can't make out what it is from this distance. 

“What is it?” 

“It's a woman's shoe...” 

“A woman's shoe?”  Avery asks. 

“With a foot in it.”  Williams replies as he approaches Avery, lifting
what appears to be a charred piece of tree branch, except it's not made 
of wood.  Still in the shoe is a foot, severed above the ankle.  Most 
of the skin is burned away and it has a chewed heel and leather strap 
wrapped around the remains of a woman's foot. 

“The God-damn lion was in the middle of the road eating her.  When it
saw me, it tried to drag her up the hillside, but she was falling 
apart.  There were two of them.  One of them grabbed another chunk of 
her and ran off down the road.  This was all I could get.  They're up 
there eating the rest.” 

“God-Damn!”  Avery says, rubbing his forehead.  “The fuck'n mountain
lions are out there eating them?” 

“Looks like it.”  Williams replies.  “Nothing we can do about it.” 

“I'll shoot the mutha-fuckers.  God-damn, that makes me sick.” 

“Look, they're just wild animals.  It's food to them.  I know it's rough
to think about it, but there is nothing we can do.” 

Avery pokes his head through the window opening.  The mountain air is
frigid and slaps his face like cold steel.  Williams watches as Avery 
vomits.  Avery wipes his mouth with a handkerchief. 

“First time?”  Williams asks. 

Avery continues vomiting, waving his hand above his shoulder. 

“I remember my first time - I puked too.  Most fellows think they can
take it but they can't.  Most fellows puke their brains out the first 
time.” 

“Fuck'n cigarettes.”  Avery flicks a two inch ash into the snow. 

“You spilled your coffee.  Want some more?” 

“Hell no.”  Avery replies.  “Maybe we can turn on the radio real loud
and it will scare them off.” 

“I doubt it, but maybe the noise will help keep them away.” 

Williams leans into the truck and starts the engine, then turns the
radio on.  Punching the buttons, he finds a rock station playing Black 
Sabbath. 

“That's good, I like this song.”  Avery says. 

Williams turns the radio volume up as loud as it will go.  “Maybe a
little Heavy Metal will keep'em  away.”  The sound of Ozzy Osbourne's 
voice echo's through the valley below them. 

“Open the back and get a plastic bag, we gotta bag this foot.  Maybe
they can identify her with DNA or something.  I'm going to turn on the 
siren too.”  Williams says. 

“Yeah, that'll scare the bastards off.” 

Deputy Avery returns to the cab of the truck with a one gallon plastic
bag and holds it while William's drops the burnt foot into it.  
Williams seals the top and is about to put it in the back of the truck 
when he sees headlights along the canyon road below them. 

“Looks like they're about here.”  Avery says, shouting over the noise. 

“Light up some flares and line them along the road.” 

“Yeah, right away.”  Avery begins setting lit road flares along the
curve of the road behind the truck.  “This should keep them from 
loosing the edge of the road and rolling off the hill.” 

Sheriff's Captain Mark Collins and his two-vehicle caravan creep slowly
up the snow covered mountain road.  It is forty five minutes past 
midnight.  Ahead of him he sees a row of red glowing road flairs and 
two deputies standing behind a stopped Jeep. 

“What's that sound?”  Captain Collins asks the driver. 

“Sounds like a siren and Black Sabbath sir.” 

“What the hell are these guys doing up here?”  Collins asks as the truck
comes to a halt.  Collins steps out and walks up to Williams.  The 
second vehicle stops and three more deputies join the group standing in 
the road, now seven in total.  Ozzie Osbourne stops singing and a Led 
Zeppelin song starts. 

“Sounds like we're busting a God-damned rock concert.  Turn that shit
off.”  Collins orders. 

Sergeant Williams approaches Captain Collins.  He's carrying the bagged,
charred foot. 

“Sergeant, what the hell are you doing...having a party?” 

“No sir.  I got this off a mountain lion.  It was eating a woman's body
up the road about a hundred yards or so.  We turned on the siren and 
the music in an attempt to scare them off.” 

“Jeeeez-us Christ!  Is that a woman's foot?”  Collins asks. 

“Yes sir.  The mountain lions are down there eating the bodies.” 

The seven officers stand quietly for a few moments, staring into the
dark canyon below them.  The stars are bright and the full moon is high 
in the winter sky.  Their breath clouds in front of their faces.  In 
the distance the faint glow of small fires sprinkle the moonlit 
mountain hillsides.  In the sky above the ridge on the far side of the 
canyon, they stare at the red and green blinking strobe lights of a 
passing airliner. 

Captain Collins turns to Sergeant Williams and lets out a deep breath. 

“Turn the damn music back on.” 


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