Radio Static–Transmission #5 (Wednesday Briefs)

Welcome to my weekly Wednesday Brief flash fiction entry! This is just a free piece of flash fiction (between 500-1,000) words based off of a prompt. I’m part of a wonderful group of flashers 😉 and I’ll have a link to a site where you can read other stories, after my piece.

This week is Radio Static Transmission #5. Jackson Meyer is a 22 year old monster hunter. Blogger and home video extraordinaire, he’s convinced that there are creatures that walk alongside humans. Through his various hunts, adventures and interviews, he finds that he’s right. He’s always been right–there is something that stalks in the shadows. It’s coming for him, and it’s not happy.

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The uneven ground proved even more difficult as they scrambled from the nest and the tree line. Brody grabbed Jackson’s elbow, “Wait.”

“I don’t see anything. We should make a dash for it.” Killen’s voice was low and steady, eyes wide, tracking everything. “Keep the camera on though, brother.” Seconds passed before Killen took off, darting out from the safety of the trees and bolting across the clearing.

Brody counted his breath, Jackson could hear him counting seconds under his breath. When Killen had gotten halfway across, Brody had hit ‘thirty’, shifted his pack and tore after the tall blond.

 

The uneven ground proved even more difficult as they scrambled from the nest and the tree line. Brody grabbed Jackson’s elbow, “Wait.”

“I don’t see anything. We should make a dash for it.” Killen’s voice was low and steady, eyes wide, tracking everything. “Keep the camera on though, brother.” Seconds passed before Killen took off, darting out from the safety of the trees and bolting across the clearing.

Brody counted his breath, Jackson could hear him counting seconds under his breath. When Killen had gotten halfway across, Brody had hit ‘thirty’, shifted his pack and tore after the tall blond.

**

Jackson took the first step toward the edge of the woods, and froze. The grass was moving a few feet away from the others, though everything else in the clearing was still. He heard the growl, low and predatory, unable to see where it was coming from. The shaking underbrush grew more violent, a shaking trail of movement in the bushes, tracking Brody and Killen.

“There’s something there!” Jackson yelled, training his camera on the movement. Killen had turned, taken steps toward Brody when a dark shape exploded from the other end of the clearing, rushing from the shadows and into the blond.

Killen went down hard as something collided with him. Brody ran toward him, yelling, Jackson dropped his pack as he too ran toward Killen. The man’s screams cut through the quiet, as the animal tore into him.

Brody reached them first, hand gripping a branch tightly, and swung down, striking the cougar on its back and shoulders. The branch came down again and again, the animal’s sounds of pain blending with Killen’s screams. Jackson dropped the camera, stooping to get into Brody’s pack, pulling out a bottle of mace.

“Cover your eyes!” Jackson yelled, pulling the safety from the container, and spraying in a wide arc. Brody continued to beat on the cougar. The animal screamed and leapt away from Killen and Brody, retreating into the woods, still yowling.

“Call the fucking rangers.” Brody dropped to his knees next to Killen. “Give me my kit.” His words barked out, tone calm despite the way his hands shook. Jackson went back for Brody’s pack, adrenaline and fear coursing through him. His hands were shaking, sweaty, mouth dry, stomach a rolling bunch of nerves. He hiccupped, dragging a hand over his face wiping tears from his eyes. His stomach heaved, he leaned over, hands braced on his knees and threw up. Panting for air, fighting off waves of nausea, his stomach continued to roll, puking until he was empty.

“Hurry up.” Brody called out to him. Jackson turned to see the other man’s hand slick with blood–Killen’s blood, and it made his stomach roll again.

“Breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth.” Brody said taking the pack, a smudge of dark red dyeing Jackson’s hand. “Sit on your ass, head between your knees, and make that fucking call.”

Killen had stopped screaming, low groans and sharp cries of pain when Brody touched him. Jackson sat heavily on the ground, the early morning dew seeping through his pants. His fingers fumbled with the emergency phone, dialing the ranger station clumsily. He rocked, feeling light headed, before doing as Brody said, sinking his head between his knees.

“Hello?” The ranger picked up, voice tinny and small.

“We need help.” Jackson was startled to hear how calm his voice was. “We-we were attacked by a cougar. My friend is hurt bad.”

“What’s your location by GPS?”

Numb fingers reached for the tracker attached to his belt loop. He gave the co-ordinates to the ranger. “He’s getting medical aid, but it’s not enough.”

“Can you tell me the extent of his injuries? We’ve got people heading your way now.”

“Brody?” Jackson called. “How bad?”

“Stable, but he’ll need more than what we can give him here. Tell them lacerations to the neck and trunk, puncture wounds to the skull and face. Defensive strikes on the forearms and lateral thighs. He’s lost a lot of blood and losing more. Tell them to radio to a hospital, he’s type AB neg, allergy to penicillin.”

Jackson relayed the information, only understanding every other word that Brody had called back to him. The ranger disconnected, with the assurance that they were in fact calling out, and readying transport to the nearest hospital.

“You going to barf again? Or are you okay. I need another set of hands.” Brody asked. His voice was still calm, shoulders straight, back long, face set in harsh lines as he worked. Jackson got to his feet and forced himself closer. He couldn’t look at the other man, not wanting to recognize that as Killen. “He’s not going to die.” Brody said. “Most of these are pretty superficial, they’re just bleeders.” He pressed a thick wad of gauze to Killen’s neck. “Grab that roll of gauze, press it to that long cut on his stomach. He’s going to make noise because it’s going to hurt, but we have to get the bleeding under control. Do you understand?”

Jackson nodded, not trusting his voice. He reached for the long thick roll of gauze and pressed it to Killen’s torso. The man moved under his hands, crying out in pain. “How are you so fucking calm right now? He’s your…whatever the fuck you two are.”

“You two idiots go play in the woods and chase things that aren’t there. I do this. I’ve trained for this, I’ve done this all my life.” Brody said. “I’m not calm, but he needs us to be right now.”

Time seemed to stand still as the stark white gauze changed color. In the distance Jackson heard the roar of ATVs. “They’re coming.” He lifted his gaze from the blood-soaked gauze to see Brody watching Killen. Dark eyes never left the ruined face, one of Killen’s hands wrapped weakly around Brody’s wrist, hanging on to the other man.

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To be continued!

Check out the other flashers!

Wednesday Briefs Flash Fiction Site

Jon Keys
Victoria Adams
MA Church
Chris T. Kat
Lily Sawyer
Larry Benjamin
Sarah Hayes
Jim Dunaway
Grace Duncan
A.R. Von
T.C. Collins
Nephylim
Andrew Q. Gordon
Cia Nordwell
Renee Stevens
Elyzabeth VaLey
Tali Spencer
Julie Lynn Hayes

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