The Flesh Eaters (24 page)
The boys laugh, confident that the soldiers will protect them. Now for the first time, Sawney Beane shows anger. He looks back at his family.
“The sheep are afraid of the wolves. You can smell it. We are the gray wolves of the forest.” He turns his dark, piercing, red-rimmed eyes on the crowd and spits at them. “You sheep! You are nothing! Shit-eaters! Things! We are the hunters! We are the wolves! We kill you! We eat you! You cannot kill us. We are free!”
He throws back his head and roars like the wolf of the forest, a crazed, chilling sound, and then he pretends that he is about to lunge at the crowd. The spectators leap back in terror, and Sawney Beane laughs at their fright.
At the place of execution, the town square, the final preparations are quickly made.
The women and young children are secured on three wooden platforms, under and around which are huge piles of kindling. The men and older boys are fastened to heavy wooden frames with their arms and legs stretched out.
When all is ready, the King steps forward to address the crowd. The capture of the family has been a significant success for him, but it is also true that he has been deeply affected by the experience of the cave. The emotion in his speech is genuine.
“You see before you the greatest enemies of mankind the world has ever known! Their crimes are so terrible and their guilt so evident that we have deemed any trial unnecessary. Trials are for human beings—for men—not for the spawn of Satan. These creatures are a nest of vipers in our garden, and they must be swiftly and completely destroyed. We would not be doing our duty if we permitted them to continue to exist. They must be destroyed, and the memory of them forgotten for all time. Their evil will die with them, and our community will no longer be endangered by these creatures of the devil.”
The spectators cheer. Behind the crowd, at the back of the square, He-Cub-and She-Cub look at each other. They have understood little of the Kings speech, but they do know what is about to happen to their family. Their faces, however, display no emotion.
“The males will be dismembered,” the King continues, “and left to bleed to death. Their heads will then be severed. Their bodies will be burned, and the ashes taken far out to sea. The females and the children will witness this. They will then be burned alive. Their ashes will be placed in a deep pit and covered with molten lead, to be forever buried. Thus will our community and our civilization be protected. Now let the execution begin.”
From the wooden frame to which he is bound, Sawney Beane spits and growls as the black-hooded executioner approaches.
“You cannot kill me! You cannot kill the wolf of the forest. I will kill you and your children. I will suck their blood and eat their hearts.”
The executioner raises his’ broad ax and brings it down just above Sawney Beane’s right knee, severing the leg. There is a tremendous gush of blood, but Sawney Beane seems unaffected.
“You will not kill me! I curse you! I will return! I am the hunter! I roam the forest! I am free! I am free!”
His head goes back; he utters the howl of the wolf. The rest of the family join in, and the terrifying cacophony fills the square. The executioners ax falls on Sawney Beane’s left leg, but his howl does not cease. Showing no pain, no fear, no awareness of the next blows that sever his arms, he maintains his awful cry until the loss of blood renders him unconscious.
The other members of the family gain strength from his defiance; they too curse their executioners, using the phrases that Sawney Beane has uttered. They shout at their captors, howling and snarling even as they are dismembered. The scene is a nightmare. The scent of blood fills the air; blood soaks the ground in streams and pools. Dismembered bodies twitch in final agony; curses, screams, and howls echo around the square.
It goes on and on and on, until all the men have died a slow death from loss of blood. The women are exhausted from the frenzy of their defiance; they seem somewhat dazed as they see the heads of the men chopped off. They remain silent as the remains of their fathers and sons and brothers and lovers are placed upon a pyre and consumed by the flames.
But now it is their turn, and the women begin the chant.
“Stick... stock... stuck.
You’ve run out of luck.
Kill... kill... kill.
We will eat our fill.”
The fires are lit under the three platforms. As the flames mount, the women chant louder and louder over the roar of the fires. The heat sears their throats; the smoke enters their lungs. Their skin reddens and blisters. When the pain becomes too intense, they give up the chant and begin to howl. The howls become screams of terrible pain—and then at last there is only the sound of the flames. Flesh blisters and blackens, melting away from bones that crack and explode and become ash.
The fires die down, smolder, then go out.
The crowd departs.
The square is empty now except for two soldiers who are shoveling the ashes of the family into a large sack. From the shadows of an alley, two pairs of eyes watch until the soldiers are gone.
He-Cub and She-Cub leave the alley and walk into the center of the square. They look at the little piles of ashes that remain. Their expressions are blank. They turn to each other. On their identical faces the same small, knowing, evil grin appears.
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