Free JACK KILBORN ~ AFRAID by Jack Kilborn

party and provide each with champagne.
    But it didn’t look like there would be any sex tonight, guilt-induced or otherwise. Erwin reeked of clammy animal blood, Sheriff Streng still hadn’t arrived, and something evil stalked the forest—something that made Erwin want to run and hide.
    A third scream, the loudest of all, and then a punishing silence. Erwin turned away from the chopper and faced the tree line. He knew the sheriff wasn’t going to come. He knew because he was pretty certain that last scream came from the sheriff. Though distorted, the voice was semirecognizable. What could possibly be happening to him to make the man—a tough man who had seen combat in Vietnam—cry out like that?
    Erwin took out his cell phone. He tried Josh. He tried the sheriff. He tried 911. He even tried his fiancée. Each time, he got the same unable to place your call recording.
    Though a firefighter, Erwin knew he wasn’t a particularly brave man. Unlike his friend Josh, who wanted to leave Safe Haven for a bigger town with more danger, Erwin was perfectly fine here. He hadn’t risked his life once in six years on the job, and that suited him. But he knew that it was only a matter of time until he’d be forced to do something heroic.
    Unfortunately, it looked like the time had come. Erwin took a deep, steadying breath and then headed into the woods, toward the screaming. He figured that Josh must have heard it, too. Maybe he was already there, taking control of the situation. Maybe Sheriff Streng had broken his leg and the screams were from Josh splinting it. Maybe the deer that had bled all over Erwin simply caught its fur on a sharp branch. Maybe those helicopter pilots got their heads cut off in a freak accident.
    The maybes didn’t last long. As Erwin ventured deeper into the woods, his imagination ate away at his rationalization. Someone, or something, had killed those pilots, and the deer, and probably Josh, and was now killing the sheriff in some horrifying way.
    Erwin slowed his pace. Each shadow became a monster. Each twig snap became a pursuit by demons. Jess popped into his mind, with that disapproving look she gave him when he said something stupid around her friends, and Erwin knew how pissed off she’d be if he died. She’d be upset at losing him, of course, but also because her storybook wedding would be canceled and she’d already sent out the invitations.
    That settled it for him. Erwin decided he should just head in the other direction, back to the main road. Forget the sheriff. Forget Josh. Forget any possible acts of heroism. He might regret his cowardice for the rest of his life, but at least he’d be alive to regret it.
    Erwin turned, then stopped. Which way was the road? He wasn’t sure. He took two steps forward, then five more to the right, then seven more in his original direction, and he realized he had no idea where he was.
    The cardinal rule when a person got lost in the woods was simple: hug a tree. Staying put meant the search party could find you, rather than chase you in circles. But that rule didn’t apply when there was something in the woods trying to cut your head off.
    Erwin picked up the pace. He might have been going deeper into the forest, but at least it distanced him from all the creepy stuff. Maybe he’d reach a road. Maybe he wouldn’t. At the very least, he could walk until sunrise and then figure out which direction to go.
    This is for Jessie Lee, he told himself. She needs me.
    Erwin focused so intently on escape that when he reached the Mortons’ yard he dropped his jaw in surprise. His flashlight beam landed upon Sheriff Streng and someone else—a man in a black outfit who wore a gun.
    Erwin froze. He had known Mr. Streng since he was a kid. His dad was friends with the man, and Streng often stopped by the Luggs household. Erwin could remember throwing the baseball around with him on more than one occasion, and for a while Streng could be counted on to buy him birthday