Read Online The Jersey Devil by Hunter Shea - Free Book Online Page B

he had no outdoor skills holding a more dire weight.
    Rafael stayed perfectly still, taking slow, deep breaths.
    What if it was a bear? New Jersey had seen an increase in bears over the past few years. A few of them had been tracked and shot recently for venturing into people’s yards, one of them mortally wounding someone’s dog that had been chained up.
    The feeling of being watched, even stalked, twisted an icy knot in his stomach.
    But wouldn’t a bear be louder? Did they take their time with their prey, feeling them out? He had no idea.
    There was that sound again! Only this time, it came from somewhere on his left.
    A rancid smell rose from the forest floor. His nose crinkled. What was that?
    You’re being a baby , he thought. It’s only been dark for less than an hour and you’re already freaking yourself out.
    Those sounds were real. And so was that smell.
    Wait. Just look through the camera. If anything’s there, you’ll be able to see.
    He almost smacked his forehead at his cowardice.
    Tilting the viewfinder up, he peered at the screen, the brightness hurting his eyes for a moment so he couldn’t make anything out. He rubbed them hard, blinking away the pain.
    Rafael looked again.
    He felt the warmth on his thighs before he realized he was pissing himself.
    â€œThis can’t be real,” he muttered, stepping away from the camera.
    The image of three creatures less than ten feet ahead of him caused every hair on his body to stand on end. They were no more than a few feet tall—a trio of what looked like upright horses with wings and flicking tails. One of them looked straight at him—into him—and hissed.
    â€œWhat the fuck?”
    Rafael stumbled over his own feet, landing hard on his ass. He could no longer see them, but he heard their shuffling feet coming closer. Closer.
    Razor-sharp teeth clamped down on his right kneecap. Rafael wailed, trying to kick it off while protecting his face with his arms. One of the creatures snatched under his armpit, tearing through his shirt and pulling a wet chunk of flesh away. The pain was excruciating.
    He cried out, the dense trees absorbing his wails.
    When the third creature dove between his legs, he went from praying to be left alone to hoping he would die quickly. It must have severed an artery, because he heard a whoosh of wind, like when he and his father bled the radiators in the fall, followed by the unmistakable sluicing of his blood from the ragged wound.
    They were all over him, snatching away pieces from head to toe. When he opened his mouth to scream for mercy, teeth clamped around his tongue and tore it out.
    Rafael twitched as his life bled away.
    The beasts danced over his body, feasting.

Chapter Ten
    Norm Cranston had meant to work on his book, but he’d gotten sidetracked during some online research, casually checking for new videos on YouPorn. After clicking through several, including a playlist on big-breasted threesomes, his pants had tightened considerably. He was about to remedy the situation when his phone rang. The workout routine of the single male interrupted before it could begin.
    He looked at the call display. It was Sam Willet.
    Good old Boompa. Not that he’d call him that. He’d tried once and it felt strange.
    â€œLooks like this’ll have to wait,” he said, closing the browser window. His cat Salem jumped onto his lap, bumping into his hard-on. He turned crimson, shooing him away. “Hey, Sam, how have you been?”
    The old man sounded thirty years younger than his age. “Keeping busy as always. Got a lot of mouths to feed.”
    Norm thought about the man’s responsibility. His farm employed not only his family, but probably a quarter of the town. And here Norm often bitched about taking care of his cat.
    â€œYou have any more UFOs up y-y-your way?” Norm asked. For a spell in the eighties and nineties, Pine Bush had been a mecca for UFO