Tokus Numas (24 page)

Never underestimate an enemy if he is smaller, taller, shorter, fatter, bulkier, quicker, thicker, smarter, tougher, or weaker, but especially if he’s a thinker.

—From
Collections of Oddities
, by anonymous contributors

P
etro and Kad headed east through a clearing of pines. Petro held the torch up in front of them as they went, seeing only a short distance. They took it slowly, being careful not to disturb the ground or the bushes around them. Each footstep was purposeful, landing softly so as not to be heard. Petro’s nerves were on edge, the adrenaline coming down. He took in long, deep breaths to keep calm and remain in control. He noticed Kad was doing something similar. Along the path, they saw nothing except large, prickly bushes, which they navigated around, and soft pine needles covering the ground. Kad stopped and motioned for Petro to come closer. “Do you see the trail?” he said in a whisper.

Petro looked and shook his head.

“Deerling, I think. Goes right through that brush over there.” Kad took the torch for a moment and used it to see the path. “You can make out the trail if you let your eyes see the distortion in the patterns of nature.”

Petro narrowed his eyes, working to see the trail. He looked into the brush. It was hard to make out as there was little light, and his eyes only saw the wild overgrowth, winding vines, and bushes springing up in all directions. “I don’t see it.”

Kad reached out to Petro’s arm and took hold of it. “Here, come next to me and look again. This time follow the line in front of me to the brush and then tell me what you see,” Kad said in a low voice.

Petro stared at the ground, looked at the line, and followed Kad’s finger to where it pointed. Suddenly the trail materialized, like that of a secret passage that became visible after casting a magical spell. It was not easy to spot unless you were looking for it and were in the right position to see it, and Petro could. “OK. Yes, I see it.”

Along the trail, they walked at a steady pace, pushing branches out of their way, melding into the forest like creatures of old. They were at one with the sleeping woods and the night air, and their focus was only on the hunt. Attuned to their surroundings like wolves, they stopped to smell the air for hints of any strong, musky odor. They listened for the snort, squeal, or grumbling of a boar and inspected the ground for signs of their recent presence. They were like ghosts, moving through the woods with only the light of the torch to show their way. Dawn filtered through the trees, giving off a faint gray light. Kad knocked the flames out, rolled the torch on the soft, wet ground, and smothered it with dirt until it was completely out. It smoldered, giving off light wisps of smoke that rolled out and were caught by a breeze, headed west. He tucked the torch into the side of his belt, careful not to burn himself.

“You see anything?” Petro wondered if they were headed in the right direction. There were no signs yet that he could see, and it bothered him. He didn’t want to come back empty-handed on the first day out. Petro took in a deep breath and let it out.

Kad had not responded. He was studying something on the ground, moving his head around slowly, looking out into the woods and then down to the ground.

“What is it?” Petro said. His heart sped up.

“Fresh tracks,” Kad said. He stooped down.

Petro could see the markings now, a print in the ground, a very large print.

“See here? These have sharp edges to them. Could be a few hours or only minutes old. This is what we’re looking for. By the signs of the trail, it looks like a male, I think, and he’s big,” Kad said. His voice was low, and he never looked up but kept his eyes on the tracks.

Petro moved in closer and touched the edges of the print. “The edges are sharp. They must be fresh, newly formed, as you said. It takes time for tracks to fade, but the older the tracks, the duller the edges. Wind and rain can cause them to look old, but there hasn’t been any strong wind or rain this morning or last night. You can tell by how deep the impression is and how fresh it looks; even if it erodes some, you can get a sense of its age. We need to pick up the pace; we might be close, or the boar might be several kilometers away. But he’s taking his time, looking for food, so I don’t think he’s too far.”

Kad moved out sharply, picking his legs up high, stepping over thick, low-lying brush, and making sure he made as little noise as possible.

The boar was near; Petro could feel it. Sweat formed on his brows, his breathing was short, and his belly grumbled. No food this morning—better to hunt on an empty stomach.

Mosquitos hovered around their faces. They shooed them away, but the little pests came back. Petro spotted dog fennel and patted Kad on the shoulder. He pointed to the green bush, handed his shotgun to Kad, reached over, and slowly tore off a twig. It smelled pungent, and the scent grew stronger when Petro ground the leaves between his hands and rubbed the wet leaves over his face, his hands, and the back of his neck. Kad handed the shotgun back to Petro and did the same. It helped; the mosquitos were still nearby but were not biting. The forest grew thick. There was little room to move, and the bushes and shrubs were slowing their progress. It stretched on for hundreds of meters, and Petro thought they might have lost the boar’s tracks. He scratched his chin, looked down, and couldn’t see any signs, but he followed Kad anyway. Kad seemed to know where he was going, and if he didn’t, there was no noticeable doubt. The forest began to open back up, and they came to a clearing. Petro moved to the left to get a better view. Not far from them, large clumps of dirt and mud were turned up. Small shrubs had been rooted out and their bottoms eaten. The damage covered much of the forest floor.

“Did a boar do all this?” Petro said in hushed tones. He wondered if it was just one boar they were tracking or if there were many. The ground had been dug up extensively where he could see.

“Yes, I think so, but I can’t see just one boar doing this much damage. They call it rooting. Boars have only one stomach, like us. Grass and other types of plants are too tough for them to digest. The roots are easier on their stomachs,” Kad said. “Look here.” He put his hand in a large hole in the ground with two identical holes on the side of it, opposite each other. “A boar planted its snout right in the ground. See? This is where the tusks were, and the snout was here in the center.” Kad ran his finger down into the two large indentations and then over the large hole where the snout had been.

Petro had felt his stomach knot up. “This thing is huge. Its head must be as big as a bear’s. Look how deep this goes,” he said, keeping his voice low.

Petro’s knees went weak, and he surveyed the area to see if the massive beast was there. It wasn’t, though it all felt terribly wrong to Petro: the depression in the ground, the large clumps of dirt flung up, the large roots sticking out. It could not be a normal-sized boar—the beast was here, it was lurking in the forest, and it was the one they were trying to find. If it were such a massive thing, maybe they shouldn’t find it; maybe they should turn around now and find a different boar to track. They had two more days to try. They could let this one go; why not? There were plenty here in these woods.

Kad raised up his forearm, keeping his elbow locked outward, making a ninety-degree angle. He signaled to Petro to circle to his left, whipping his finger around in a tight circular motion going counterclockwise. He watched Kad take out an arrow and notch it.

What was it? Petro looked out into the forest, but he couldn’t see anything in the gray half-light. All he could see was a line of saplings in the distance across the open area, where the twigs were full of green leaves that blocked his view. Kad went to his right. There was a snap of a branch, and Petro instantly halted in place but realized the sound hadn’t come from him; it came from across the opening. Petro peered into the thick forest but still could not see anything.

Suddenly and without warning, there was a rustling sound and then a snort. Petro brought the shotgun up, holding it just above his waist; his hands trembled. He glanced over at Kad, who walked stealthily toward the sound with his bow in hand, notched but not drawn.

The snorting continued, sounding more like a warning than an animal searching for its meal. Something was wrong. They were exposed, out in the open; and whatever it was in those dark woods saw them, but they could not see it.

Kad still moved toward the direction of the sound; then he stopped. Petro watched as Kad cocked his head to one side, listening intently. His hands felt slick on the shotgun, but he dared not try to wipe them dry. The bushes began to shake about, like something large was moving through them; then a young tree swayed back and forth, shook all over, and was ripped out of the ground and tossed toward them. It smashed into the dirt. Petro and Kad exchanged shocked looks, and then their eyes turned toward what hid behind the line of bushes, back in the shadows.

There was more thrashing behind the bushes, and the snorts got louder. The boar’s large dark head appeared, followed by its massive body that pushed through the bushes and saplings, bending them out of its way.

Petro’s eyes widened. The tusks were the length of short swords, and the razorback looked like it might come all the way up to Petro’s chin. His jaw dropped. It must have weighed fifty-seven stones. It was truly…he couldn’t finish his thought. Petro tried to describe what he saw but only came up with the word “massive,” but that didn’t quite describe this creature. He tried to think of another word and thought it was massive. Its legs were like tree stumps, its back high like that of a horse, its head as broad as two men standing side by side. Petro backed away slowly. He glanced over to Kad, who was as still as water on a calm day. His bow was out in front of him, and his hand was ready to pull back on the string.

The beast obviously didn’t feel threatened by their presence, and it wasn’t trying to scare them off as Petro had thought. It continued to tear into the ground, stabbing at it, lifting huge chunks of dirt, flinging them to the side, and then tearing the root fibers up, instantly shredding them. It gorged itself on its newfound feast and then slowly turned broadside, chewing the roots, swallowing, and shoveling the debris out of its way.

Kad drew his bowstring all the way back to the corner of his mouth and held it in place. Petro brought the shotgun up to his shoulder. His hands shook, and it carried up into his arms, and into his body. Even his jaw twitched and turned pale at the sight. He licked his lips and glanced over at Kad.
We should have stayed together
, Petro thought. He began to move closer toward Kad, keeping his eyes focused on the beast. All his attention was on the boar, the abrasive sounds it made while it continued to rip up the ground, grinding the roots down like a machine chewing up cut-down trees, turning them into pulp for paper. A twig snapped under his foot, and Petro halted his movement. Surely the monster didn’t hear him, but then the boar’s eyes came up to meet Petro’s eyes. Those black circles stared across the opening, boring into his flesh, filling Petro with dreadful thoughts.

Petro glanced over at Kad and then returned his gaze toward the boar, which had now taken notice of Kad. It turned its head toward his friend. At that moment Kad let the arrow loose, and into the air it soared like a bird of prey after its quarry. The razor tip hit—but not where Kad had anticipated. The arrow ricocheted off the beast’s shovel-shaped head, leaving a pink gash in its flesh.

The boar let out a long, loud snort, followed by a longer much louder bellowing of hollowed terror. All feeling went out of Petro when he saw the arrow had only angered it. Petro forgot to adjust his stance, still standing flat footed, and feet side by side, shoulder width apart. His heart pounded against his chest as he aimed at the beast’s heart; all movement seemed to slow, the head of the beast rocking back and forth, the barrel of the gun coming into view, the profile of the boar lining up with his aim just below the shoulder, and then he fired his shotgun. The white puff of smoke from the end of the barrel was slowed in time, Petro’s eyes catching every movement; then it all sped up in an instant. Petro was knocked backward. He hit the ground with a thud. His gun fell from his hands, and a trail of smoke lingered from its bore. The smell of burned gunpowder filled his nostrils. A long, loud shrill filled the forest, sending ripples of fear through his body. Petro fought to sit up, and he saw a hole in the creature’s gut where the slug had torn its flesh. He missed his mark. The boar screamed, a haunting, agonizing scream, which sent chills through Petro.

Petro turned his head to see Kad. Every movement was caught by Petro’s eyes as Kad grasped another arrow from his quiver and notched it in place. In the meanwhile, the boar turned in a full circle, crying out into the wild, and then it stopped. It lowered its gaze onto Kad and shot out in a full charge. Kad released a second arrow. Frame by frame, it soared through the air and then stuck into the feral pig’s back, flopping about like a spear thrown into a bull by a matador.

Petro scrambled to his feet, lunging a meter to grab his shotgun. The boar had made a sharp turn, headed toward Petro. Its curved tusks were down low to the ground, scraping the dirt and cutting a path directly to him. There was no time to react, no time to aim his shotgun, as the mass of muscle barreled into him. The force knocked the wind out of Petro; the shotgun reeled from his hand and hit the ground, sliding and clearing a path through leaves and debris, sweeping the ground clean.