In Laymon's Terms

Tears of pain and fear streaked down Billy’s face, diluting the blood and dirt. He tried to keep up, but Sonia had to practically drag him along. She could feel the animals close behind.

Just a few more feet to the van! She lunged forward, heaving Billy behind her, but his arm slipped out of her sweaty grip when she tried to propel him through the door. He screamed. She looked back to see a coyote with its jaws clamped on to his leg, pulling him back.

“No! You can’t have him!” Sonia shouted at the beast. She leaned over Billy and punched the coyote on the snout. The beast yelped and jumped back, but the rest of the pack had reached them. She felt the blood drain from her features as they closed, teeth bared and shiny with saliva.

Sonia started when she heard the van door slam shut behind her. She looked back and her eyes locked with Sally’s for a moment through the van’s window before Sally turned away. In that moment, Sonia knew it was the end. Her mouth went dry as she turned back to face the pack. At least Sally might make it.

She collapsed to her knees and clutched her son to her. Why? Why like this? She sobbed, the tears blurring her view of the pack as they surged forward. Billy kicked at the first one, but the animal caught his frail leg in its jaws. He screamed in pain and tried to lean over to punch the thing, but Sonia was holding him too tightly. She wanted to help him fight, wanted to kill the monsters that were murdering her family, but she was frozen, numb, drifting into a haze.

She blinked and jerked her head back as a spray of thick, warm blood splattered her face. There were more coyotes attacking Billy now, and as they dragged her son out of her loosening grip, several more leapt at Sonia. The pain brought clarity back to her. One had clamped on to her right forearm, another to her left bicep, and a third buried its teeth into her thigh. With the clarity came recognition of Billy’s screams. She flailed at the coyotes attacking her, and rushed toward her wounded son with a burst of adrenaline.

Five of the monsters were tearing chunks of flesh from Billy, shredding his clothes like candy wrappers. Sonia tried to bat them away, but they jerked his body between them like he was a puppy’s chew rag. She dropped on top of him, trying to shield him with her own body. The small bit of logic still remaining told her it was useless; they would drag her body off him the moment she was dead, but that part of her mind was silenced by the maternal instinct to protect her son. She gathered him beneath her as the coyotes relentlessly tore at her back and limbs.

She could feel their teeth ripping through her skin and muscle, scraping against her bones. So many wounds, she lost track of them. Her vision was dimming, but she was aware of the tears running from her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she whispered hoarsely to her son, “I’m sorry.” Then one of the beasts snapped down on her neck, and ripped open her jugular.

Sally tried to block out the screaming, but it was too loud. She’d had to close the door. She hated herself for it, but she’d had to. They were already surrounded and the coyotes were eyeing her through the open door, so she’d had to pull it closed. But she didn’t have to watch what happened next. Nothing could make her do that. She’d witnessed John die; she couldn’t go through that again. So she curled up in a ball, wedged herself under the rear bench seat, and listened to the lingering screams until they finally stopped.

But the sounds that came next were even worse. The window was still cracked open, so Sally heard all the wet sounds of muscles being torn apart, ligaments popping, and bones cracking. These last sounds were what made her break down into wailing cries. But even through her weeping, she could still hear the coyotes feeding.

Fifty yards away, with a perfect view of the van and the carnage, Miles Laurence smiled. This was good shit! He wished he could see the girl’s death too, but he doubted she’d move from that van any time soon. Besides, even with all the expensive equipment they were using, it was getting too dark to film. They had great digital video cameras, and he could increase the light and color on the computer when he edited the footage, but it was almost full night now. You can only enhance just so much before you lose picture quality.

“That’s a wrap,” Miles said to the three men with him. “Okay Tommy, call the boys back and get ’em in their cages.”

“Sure, boss.” Tommy turned toward the van, raised a dog whistle to his lips, and blew the signal to summon the coyotes back from their hunt.