Hours went by since the boy had passed through. Creighton remained, waiting, when he saw a familiar figure approach him. The man had his knives drawn and pointed one threateningly at Creighton.
“Heya, Butcher,” Creighton said, offering no reaction to the threat. He rolled a simple cigarette and put it in his mouth, without lighting it. “Friend, you are not who I am waiting for.”
Butcher lowered his knives. “I am not your friend, Creighton. I hunt a boy. He came this way. Have you seen him?”
Creighton shrugged. “Maybe I have, maybe I haven’t. A boy is no business of mine.”
“You know who I work for,” Butcher said. “Tell me or I will kill you,” Butcher wiggled the longest knife on his belt, trying to intimidate the mysterious man.
“And you know who I work for,” Creighton responded. “You won’t kill me, and you know it. Have a seat and we can talk about what we have seen. Many curious things going around these days. I mean, a living boy?”
“So you have seen him.” Butcher spat on the ground. “Don’t waste my time. Tell me where he went.”
“If you want the boy, he headed towards the hills.” Creighton pointed off to the hills in the northwest.
“Why would he leave the road?” He looked doubtfully at the man. Butcher took several steps on the dusty pavement. He looked towards the hills, then down the road. Then he turned to the southwest. He bent down and inspected the edge of the road, rubbing his hands in the dirt. “You sent him to mako sica, didn’t you? Why?”
“He asked for my help. I helped.”
“That way,” Butcher said, incredulously. “That way only means a quicker death for him.” Butcher headed in the same direction Javin had gone. It didn’t take long for Butcher to find his trace again. As he resumed his pursuit, he heard a wolf howl in the distance. If he didn’t know better, he would have taken that as an omen, good or bad. But the howl was not meant for him.
***
Javin knew exactly what lay before him. He knew he had fallen into some strange version of South Dakota. What should take days and days to walk was much shorter, like a horrible miniature version of the state he grew up in.
“The Badlands. Seriously? That dude sent me into the Badlands?” They were Javin’s favorite South Dakota topic, simply because of the name. Though his mom had never had the time to take him to see them. He thought about turning back. Could he really trust someone just because he saved his life? But he said there were those that could help him this way. He reached a narrow corridor of colored rock. He had to scramble over some small ditches before he found his way into a valley. “I hope this goes somewhere.”
Two high walls stretched above his head. Long ago, they had been formed by water and wind. Their layers were striated with red and brown rock.
His movements echoed across the steep walls, and he chanted out, “Javin in the caverns. Javin in the caverns.” Then, he switched so they would rhyme, “Javin in the cavahns. I’m Javin in the cavahns.”
He stopped and cupped his hands to his mouth and yelled out, “This is Javin’s cavahn, get out by order of Javin,” His name echoed across the hard landscape.
He wondered if there were any insects. He heard cockroaches could live anywhere. Maybe some had made their way here and had baby cockroaches. “Or what if they were ghost cockroaches?” He wondered what would happen if he were sleeping and one crawled into his mouth and down into his stomach. Could a dead bug unlive inside him forever, just a ghost crawling around? Then he realized that if it were a ghost, it would just walk right through him, which was good, because he did not like the idea of dead insects living, or was it undying, inside of him.
He again pulled out his pack to inspect it before he hit more dangerous ground where a trip or fall could kill him. He still had water, fireworks and a lighter, the pepper sauce, a change of clothes, a towel and the sardines. The sardines. How could he have been so stupid? No wonder the ghost cat chased him.
Hungry enough and out of choices he opened the can. He usually loved fish. But he only kept the sardines for a future prank.
He opened the fresh bottle of pepper sauce and sprinkled some on. He pinched the small fish between his fingers and swallowed it down, trying not to smell it. The pepper sauce was achingly hot. He panted heavily to cool his tongue. He grew up on spicy foods, but this was next level.
When he emptied the can, he tossed it to the side. Normally he wouldn’t litter, but no one would mind here. He didn’t need the fishy smell in his backpack.
Javin walked on until the canyon opened into a wider space. He put his hands around his mouth and felt a burning sensation from not cleaning the sauce from his fingers. He ignored it and called out, “Yoo hoo, dead people, I need your help!” His words echoed.
“Do you now?” a voice behind him said. Help, help, help continued to echo out over the newcomer’s words before fading away. “Well, I’m not quite dead, but will I do?”
A tall, muscular man with long hair stood behind him. He blocked the path Javin had just come from. He had a long knife in his hand. That did not look promising. The stranger had darkish skin, tinged pale at its surface as though ash was smeared across it. His eyes were shadows with yellow pinpricks at their center. He smiled and his teeth were sharp and pointy. All of them. But his canines were longer. This was one of the Paleskins Creighton had mentioned.
“Uhhh, hi, I’m Javin.” Javin slowly backed away. “Why do you have a knife?” Javin asked.
“I’m hunting,” Butcher Briggs said. He flashed a wicked smile.
“You must not have heard; all the animals are invisible down here. You can’t see them or touch them.”
“Not hunting an animal,” Butcher said. “I’m hunting a boy.”
“Well, I haven’t seen any boys down here,” Javin said. “I’m kind of a young man. At least that’s what my mom says when she wants me to behave. But if I do see a boy, I’ll send him back this way.” Javin took steps further from the threatening man.
As if reading his mind, Butcher responded, “You can run. I’m okay with you running. Make this more fun.” He slid his knife against his thigh. It sliced shallowly into his flesh, but no blood came from the wound. “I’m hungry, as you can see, and adrenaline and sweat make for a finer taste. Or so I hear. I’ve never tasted a living person before.”
“Really sir, I don’t like to be eaten. I taste bad. I promise you.” Javin turned and ran. Butcher watched him until the boy ran out of his sight and then followed. No sport at all, he thought.
Javin’s feet and arms pumped. He moved as fast as he could. His holey shoes didn’t make it easier. That was surely a vampire. The two most prominent teeth that stood out among all the dagger-like teeth gave it away.
There were forks inside the canyon, and he took them randomly. Left. Left. Right, Center when presented with the choice. One dead ended, and he had to turn around. He knew more mistakes could cost him his life. Small pebbles rained upon his head, startling him. He tumbled once, bounced up on both hands and continued. Javin found a small crevice. He took a quick glance and saw a hint of gray sky on the other side. It was risky, but the larger killer could not follow him in. The walls scraped against his chest and back. He exhaled to make himself as thin as possible for the narrowest part. He had to carry his backpack in one hand to fit. At the center of the long crevice, he took a minute to rest.
Butcher ran silently behind Javin and watched him. He saw him turn several times, which sent the boy back towards where they started. Butcher wondered if he could not have just had a seat and the boy would have eventually run into his lap. But then the boy’s next few choices put him out of sight.
Butcher climbed the canyon wall. Many of the plateaus were low enough, although Butcher still had to take longer pathways to keep up. He did not mind. He could chase the boy forever. At one point, Butcher overran Javin. He had jumped the wide gap overhead and rained debris down on him.
He watched the boy speed off in a panic like a pronghorn. The boy finally found a hiding space. Butcher wondered if it had an outlet and he circled around to see.
Javin’s neck and cheeks burned. He touched them with his fingers, but that only made it worse and he tried to ignore the sensation. He saw an opening ahead, far above ground level. Should he climb up or go back? Javin had trouble on the ropes in gym class, but he went for it.
The narrow crevice allowed him to use his hands and legs to wedge himself upwards. His muscles burned under the strain. The crack, just wide enough for him to fit through, would be his escape from his pursuer. He reached up to pull himself through.
“Found you, boy,” Butcher exclaimed. His evil yellow eyes blazed in triumph. His arm sprung at Javin like a loosed arrow and caught his wrist. Javin pushed as hard as he could with both legs to break the powerful grip. Suddenly the man above him let go… on purpose.
Javin fell backwards. He dropped headfirst towards the hard rock below. At the last moment, he twisted his body, landing on his side. He gasped for air but could not pull any into his lungs, causing him to panic. Like a cap being removed from a cola bottle, he finally took that needed breath. He lay there to let the pain subside. When he looked up, he saw the evil man staring and smiling at him, taunting him with the knife.
“See you soon.” And he disappeared.