Free An Occurrence in Crazy Bear Valley by Brian Keene

reached the door just as it stopped shaking. She turned to the others and grinned.
    “Bastards can’t get through,” she yelled. “I guess we showed them, huh?”
    The wall next to the door imploded. Clara instinctively threw her arms up to protect her head as the wall collapsed inward, showering her with rocks, shattered timbers and hunks of sod.
    Groaning, the ceiling sagged. Clara stumbled backward as two hulking beasts leaped through the opening. They were so tall, their heads brushed against the ceiling. Their stench was incredible, seeming to roll off their hairy bodies in noxious waves. The creatures lumbered through the wreckage and quickly glanced around the room. Roaring, one of them charged toward Stephens and Crystal, while the other seized Clara’s arm and pulled her into its embrace.
    “Clara!” Johnson shoved past Morgan and Gunderson, weapon in hand. Then he stumbled to a halt, aghast.
    Despite every thing they had seen and done together, each of them paused momentarily, horrified. Each of them had witnessed—and in some cases participated in—numerous atrocities. Morgan and Gunderson had both seen men butchered during the war; they’d seen amputated limbs stacked like firewood and men blown in half by cannonballs. Stephens had experienced the horrors of Fort Grant during the Apache uprising, and had seen terrible things on both sides. Johnson had once stumbled across the remains of a man who’d been tied behind a horse and dragged across twenty miles of desert and sagebrush. All of them were hardened, but none of them were prepared for what happened next.
    Shrieking, Clara beat at the creature as it spun her around and crushed her to its chest. She stamped on the beast’s huge feet, but the monster didn’t loosen its grip. As Clara opened her mouth to scream again, the crazy bear thrust one hairy hand into her mouth, stifling her cries. The helpless woman’s eyes went wide as the monster made a fist inside of her mouth. Then, Clara’s eyes rolled up, flashing whites, as her attacker yanked her tongue out by the roots. Blood gushed from between her lips. Grinning, the creature tossed the gruesome morsel aside and grabbed her jaws with both hands. Then, it began to pry her mouth open.
    Clara’s tortured screams became a muffled gurgle, fading to a sigh as the thing ripped her jaws apart. There was a grating crunch, followed by a sickening pop, audible even over the gun-fire and the screams of the rest of the group. Then Clara’s lower jaw came off in its hand. The beast threw the jawbone at the wall.
    Enraged, Johnson fired two shots at the killer. The first shot hit Clara instead, right above her breast. She sank to the floor, her eyes still showing white. The second shot slammed into the beast’s neck. Arterial blood sprayed all over its fur, Clara’s unmoving form, and the surrounding walls. Johnson started to shoot again, but Morgan pushed his weapon aside and pulled him close, hollering in his ear.
    “Help Stephens and the girl! Ain’t nothing you can do for Clara or Parker now.”
    “Morgan,” Gunderson shouted from behind them. “I need someone on this window. They’re rushing us!”
    Morgan spun around and ran back to him, already firing. Johnson glanced between the window and the others. Stephens and the girl circled around their horse, keeping it between them and the enraged crazy bear. The creature eyed them warily, not approaching any further, but not backing down either. It seemed cowed by its partner’s death.
    “Don’t just stand there,” Stephens yelled over the explosions. “Shoot the goddamn thing!”
    Nodding, Johnson blinked sweat from his eyes and raised his gun. Before he could draw a bead on the attacker, a boulder crashed through the roof, smashing the table to splinters. Crockery and playing cards flew across the room. At the same time, the door burst open, and two more beasts charged into the shanty.
    The creature menacing Stephens and Crystal glanced