Free Warden by Kevin Hardman Page B

alarmed. “What is that? Is it contagious?”
    “It’s less of an actual disease and more of a curse.  The Wendigo’s prey starts sensing things – seeing, hearing, and smelling stuff – that no one else can. They might also have nightmares that make them wake up screaming, or even physical pain, like they’re on fire.  Basically, they go crazy and end up running off into the woods and are never seen again.”
    Gale was amazed at his breadth of knowledge on the subject.  “How do you know all this stuff?”
    “Studying.  Tom thinks a Warden needs to know everything that could be out here in the Badlands, so he makes me bone up on this kind of stuff all the time.  And he tests me on it.”
    “I guess it’s a good thing he did, because it’s certainly coming in handy.”
    Errol silently agreed. He had never really had an appreciation for all of the stuff that Tom had made him learn, trained him to do. But now, he could see the benefit of it. Tom had done his best to make Errol a survivor more than anything else.
    “So,” Gale continued, “are you this knowledgeable about everything dangerous in these parts?”
    “Not everything,” Errol said, shaking his head and laughing.  “Hardly anything, in my opinion.”
    “Just Wendigos and revenants, I take it.”
    “Well, the Wendigo thing is just kind of a fluke.  Tom once asked me to name what I felt were the ten most dangerous things in the Badlands.  Then he made me learn everything I could about them, his logic being that if I knew how to handle what I felt was most dangerous – basically, the things I feared the most – then I shouldn’t have problems with anything else.  Wendigos, of course, were on my list.”
    “You don’t seem to be acting like you’re afraid of it.”
    “Oh, I’m actually terrified.  But Tom always says that being afraid is natural.  Panicking, however, will get you killed. So I’m just trying not to panic and lose my head.”
    Then he told her about the manticore. How he had bungled the ward. How he had missed with the crossbow.  How he was determined not to let that happen again.
     
    **********
     
    The darkness of nightfall saw Digby’s agitation grow even worse.  Errol and Gale, who had sleeping bags, each offered him a blanket, as the night had suddenly turned chill. Nevertheless, the man’s teeth chattered uncontrollably, and he had taken to making odd noises – short screeches and cries for no reason at all. Thus it was that Errol paid him almost no mind when Digby’s latest shriek reached his ears. However, the sudden, wild neighing of the horses did capture his attention, and when he turned to see what had disturbed them, he saw it. The Wendigo was standing on the other side of their fire, just outside the periphery of their camp - and the wards.
    Standing, it seemed even bigger than it had in the cellar – at least twelve feet tall.  Pale white and humanoid in appearance, it was gaunt beyond belief, its ribs easily distinguishable beneath the skin of its uncovered torso. It appeared to be grinning, showing a mouth full of razor-sharp fangs and teeth, at which point Errol realized that the monster had no lips. The claws at the end of its hands clicked together spasmodically as its fearsome yellow eyes locked with Errol’s own.
    Not unnaturally, Gale screamed, and the Wendigo turned its baleful glare upon her.  Taking advantage of the monster’s distraction, Errol whipped his warding wand out of his belt and fired a spark of light at it.  It struck the Wendigo in the chest, causing massive damage in the form of a fist-sized hole in the general vicinity of where the creature’s heart should be.
    The Wendigo absorbed the assault almost nonchalantly, the only indication that it had been hit being a slight step backwards.  It casually looked down at the wound, which began to heal almost immediately.
    Errol fired another spark from his wand, but suddenly the Wendigo wasn’t there anymore, and the