#I made law extra handsome in this one with the limp wrist | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

andrewsfic · 5 years

Text

The Ranger

This was my first proper “original setting” piece of fiction. Now, yes, “the real world but supernatural creatures do exist” is an extremely common trope. This was absolutely drawing on things like Ben Aaranovic’s “rivers of london” series, and Wynonna Earp.

The story was inspired by a discussion with a friend about how “Park Ranger” is probably a job that sounded a lot cooler than the reality.

“This is KZA2, KZA2, Help us, help us…..”

That was the call the ranger station had heard over the radio. Everyone knew KZA2, The little cabin in the forest out near Big Peak, the imaginatively named mountain that loomed to the north west. The three chaps that lived up there kept themselves to themselves mostly, but weren't unfriendly, unlike a lot of the little enclaves like that in the vast wilderness the rangers had responsibility for. Tended to be if you disappeared to live in a cabin up in the forests, far away from the society, it’s because you wanted to be left well alone. It had taken almost an hour to get up there. Reyas and Sgt. Brownell in the truck, while Ranger (2nd class) Sarah Martin had taken the Quad. What met her was a scene of horror.

The first two where both in the main cabin. The smaller man, she thought his name was Ryan, had been evicerated. He was lying face up, innards spilling from the gash across his belly. The second was in the corner. She’d only known the big guy as “Lofty”. They found him in the corner, curled up in the fetal position, hands to his throat, body stiff with rigor mortis. She couldn’t get the smell out of her nostrils, even now. None of it was new, it does not take long as a ranger to come across some nasty accidents, and wounded or dead animals where such a regular part of the job they were almost unremarkable, especially down in the more touristy, and so car heavy, areas down south. But something about that smell of still cooling blood, shit and piss had stuck with her. And no amount of fresh mountain air was clearing it. They’d found the last of the men, Stefan, by following the two sets of bloody footprints. One set human, one not. They both lead to the small outbuilding next to the big antenna. Obviously where they kept the radio set. His hand still held the radio mic. It had been severed at the wrist. The cable had also been severed. Sarah had always found him the best of the three. Lofty and Ryan had always been a little more withdrawn, while Stefan had always greeted her with a smile any time her duties had taken her up that way, or the men swung by the ranger station on their occasional trip into the local town. Stefan hadn’t gone down without a fight either. The bloody knife a few feet away from his limp body made that clear. “He did them” said Reyas, surveying the scene. “Then topped himself”. “Don’t be fucking stupid” Sarah snapped. “He clearly was the one who called for help” she pointed at the radio. “And what about those wolf prints” she swung her arm to point out of the doorway “they didn’t come from nowhere” “And then the wolf went out here” This came from Brownell, outside the hut. “Jumped out that window” Reyas followed Sarah as they exited and walked round the back. Brownell was stood looking at the treeline a couple of hundred meters away. “Looks like there’s a blood trail” he said grimly. “Ranger Martin. You’re the better tracker of the three of us, see what you can see. Reyas, get in the truck, I want you to get on the long range set, we need a team up from the main base ASAP” “What about you Sarge?” “I’m going to wait here, keep the scavengers off, otherwise those three will be gone by morning. Martin you join me when you get back”

Sarah trudged back to the quad bike, grabbed her bag from the back, and picked up the rifle from the front. The City PD officers had laughed at it last time she went down to their range for official requalification. Then she’d fired the first shot, and they’d realised that while it wasn’t as modern as their issued assault rifles, the lever action’s .45-70 government cartridge packed rather more punch than they were carrying. She racked the action, set the safety, and topped the magazine tube up with an extra cartridge from the loops on the leather cuff around the stock. If the six big soft-points didn’t stop a threat, nothing would. Shouldering her pack, and holding the rifle, she headed back to the radio hut. The big truck chugged into life behind her as Reyas started his journey back to the station. She nodded at Sgt Brownell. “If I’m not back in two hours, send help.” “Keep safe ranger” Glancing down at the blood trail, she made her way to the treeline, and then into the forest. Walking into the trees was like walking into a different world. Suddenly it was dark. The overhead foliage blotted out the sunlight, leaving a spooky twilight world of tree trunks, fallen branches and a spongy layer of fallen needles coating the floor. The fallen needles also seemed to deaden the sound, making what little sound there was seem muffled and distant. And snaking through it was a steady line of blood drops. Usually on the floor, although here and there was a patch on the side of a tree. Some about two and a half feet off the ground. That meant it was unusually large, for a wolf.

After around half a mile, the blood trail lead to a pool of blood on the ground, next to an especially large tree. Sarah crouched to look closer. The disturbed needles, a couple of freshly broken twigs to the left, suggested something big had curled up there. Probably to lick its wounds, she thought.

“so why did you move on?” she murmured.

She dipped her right index finger into the pool. Still warm. Very warm.

A further trail of blood lead west, no longer heading uphill, but instead following the contours of the slope. Sarah moved slower now. The blood drops where closer together, as if whatever was bleeding was moving slower now. She adjusted her grip on the rifle. Whatever it was probably would catch wind of her soon. And that made it dangerous. The blood trail continued to a small hollow that formed a clearing. That’s where she found the wolf. It was slumped in the base of the hollow, in the warm spot the sunlight formed. The gash in it’s front flank was still bleeding freely, matting the fur around it, and pooling in the needles below. Other than that, at first glance it was quite handsome, even for a wolf, with sleek grey fur, powerful legs, and a well proportioned head. Closer inspection revealed the further blood matting the fur around its feet, and it’s muzzle. Which forced Sarah's mind back to what she had seen in the cabin, now so far away. The wolf raised its head as she moved to the edge of the treeline. It’s growl revealed a set of very sharp teeth, but seemed rather weak, considering the size of the beast. But that didn’t change what she needed to do. She shouldered the rifle. Normally she’d attempt a heart shot, it was less messy and highly effective at putting wounded animals out of their misery quickly. But her angle was awkward, and having seen what the wolf had done to Lofty, Ryan and Stefan, she didn’t want to give it a chance to find a last reserve of energy to get her while she repositioned for a better shot. She aimed for it’s head. BOOM A single shot rang out through the forest. A cloud of birds few up from a nearby set of trees, and a hole appeared in the wolfs head, right between its eyes. Blood and brain matter sprayed onto the ground behind it. The wolf slumped like a puppet with its strings cut. Sarah breathed out, and looked around. She never enjoyed putting animals down. Even if it was a regular part of the job. She looked back down at the body. And wretched. The body was changing. It was like the fur was retracting back into the skin. And the skin was stretching in some places, while it seemed to contract in others. Meanwhile, every single bone seemed to break, reform, and then reset themselves. When she looked up again, the body lying there was very clearly not the body of a wolf, but the body of a human man. Face down. With a hole in the back of his head.

A loudly snapping twig brought her out of her confusion. She pivoted to face the noise, raising her rifle again. A wolf stepped out from the treeline, looking straight at her. It cocked it’s head to one side. Then.. just like the corpse had, it changed. This time she was ready for it, but even so, Sarah could feel the bile rising in her throat. The man that stood before her was tall, well muscled, and extremely naked. Not that he seemed self conscious about the fact. He held his hands up. “Don’t shoot” his voice had an odd, bark like quality. He shook his head, and coughed. “Please”. Now his voice was more human. Less gruff. Sarah lowered the rifle, although it remained in her shoulder. “What the fuck is going on” she demanded. “You are the ranger, and you don’t know?” “What?” The man gestured at her “The ranger.” “I’m a ranger, yes. That’s not helping” “I suppose they don’t tell you anymore, do they.”

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN!?” The man sighed. “They call us skinwalkers. Or Werewolves. Your choice. This scumbag went rogue. You saw the results.” “And you where hunting him?” “He broke the law. Killed people. We can’t let that stand” “This isn’t real” Sarah shook her head. “I must have hit my head or something” The man shook his head “Fraid not. Although we hear that a lot” “So you’re real?” “Yes” “And you can turn into wolves” “Yes” “And...” The man held up his hand cutting her short. “You should talk to your chief. He still knows the old ways” “Chief Hanlon” The man nodded. “Tell him Skunk’s son says hi. He’ll know what it means. And now, you should go” “And what do I do about this?” she motioned at the body. “I can’t take him back with me, they’re expecting a wolf. I’ll be branded a murderer”. “Leave him” “And tell my bosses what?” The man shrugged. “You caught up, shot him, then the rest of the pack turned up. You got driven off, but made it out.” “And what will you do with the body” “Don’t worry. By the time anyone else gets here, he’ll be long gone.” Two more wolves padded out of the treeline. “Now, you should go, your friends will start to worry” Sarah turned and started walking. Her head spinning. A few days later, at the main station: “Chief Hanlon. Could I have a private word sir?” The old chief nodded and motioned to the chair in front of his desk. Sarah closed the door and took the seat. “How can I help you Ranger?” he asked. “Sir, There was someone else in those woods that day. They told me to tell you that Skunk’s son says Hi. They said you’d know what that means?” Chief Hanlon leaned back in his chair, stroking his mustache. “Well I’m damned. There’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time” “Sir, who is Skunk?” The chief chuckled. “Ranger Martin, I am about to be told secrets about things that officially do not exist. Stories which date back to the early days of the Ranger service, and even before. You don’t talk about this to anyone else, unless you are the one sitting in this chair, understand?” “Yes sir” “Good. Now let me tell you about my old mate skunk, the skinwalker…..”

#Fic #fiction #Original setting

0 notes