The Beast of Brookville

Chapter 7

Sam called ahead, gave FCPD a heads up he was on his way, and told the Sheriff, Tom, about his working theory - the Beast had been prowling longer than they'd thought, and everyone was in danger. He'd called Officer Victoria Ryan on his way as well, updating her, warning her to enjoy her time off while she had it.

Walking into another precinct always felt like a mess, the unfamiliar buzz was disorienting and off-putting, basic familiarity with some of the staff offered him some level of comfort as he made his way to the Sheriff's office so they could compare notes.

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In the blink of an eye they were roadside. Sam could hardly remember how he'd gotten there, how he'd gotten roped into an area sweep where the road rage incidents went down, how he, a Sheriff from another precinct was now head of a group of searchers. Everyone was stepping, lunging, and sweeping carefully through brush, over fallen trees, and through damp, sticky leaves leftover from last fall, slowly making their way outward.

The sounds of snapping twigs, rustling trees and cicadas filled the air as the two Sheriffs, Sam and Tom surveyed the area from the road, marking up the map they had stretched across the hood of Sam's car that had been anchored with old mugs rescued from their cup holders. Sam liked to consider himself a realist, he didn't want to get his hopes up but knew that procedures like this existed for a reason. The off chance that something helpful was waiting out there was worth it.

Every officer near and far swiped sweat off their brow, off their top lip, pulled their shirt from their chest to fan the sweat that had collected; the humidity was exhausting, and you could see it sitting heavily on each person. It was only mid-morning and getting hotter, people were going to start dropping if they didn't pack it in soon.

"Goddamn, I can feel the sweat pooling in my shoes already" a familiar voice beside him said.

"Vic?" He squeezed his brows together in confused surprise. "What are you doin' out here?" he said, startled but relieved to see her.

"Heard about the search from a friend on the force, figured I'd head over, keep you company out here, tactical support in enemy territory and what not" she smiled as she flicked her hand, gesturing to the search party spread before them.

There had always been a friendly rivalry between neighboring towns but they always knew they could rely on each other, especially out here where people were a resource, despite the usual pitfalls of jurisdiction lines and poorly maintained paperwork. Pride in their town didn't stop them from helping out their neighbors from time to time and everyone in the know would be lying if they said this didn't scare them, they needed each other's help whether they liked it or not.

Sam, Vic, and Tom whipped their heads toward the gaggle of voices swelling to the right of them, towards the denser part of the woods in the area. An officer ducked his head as he came out of the tree-line and yelled "OVER HERE."

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This part of the woods was gnarly, the ground was uneven and camouflaged by vegetation, every step met with sharp branches and thorny vines reaching out to catch your pant leg or pull on your sleeve. Everything made sticky by the humidity, adding an extra layer of discomfort. Most folks here grew up running through the woods and used that experience to pick through the thickest areas, keeping an eye out for evidence and hidden dips waiting and ready to twist an ankle. It wasn't uncommon out here to come across old property lines marked by stone-wall fences, the years had knocked most of them down but in their wake lay piles of large rocks, perfect for housing creatures and stealing the footing out from under an unsuspecting passerby.