Sheriff Jessup squinted through his windshield and instantly noticed the red flickering that John was indicating.
"Road flare," Jessup said without hesitation. "Wasn't sure if he took one. Box in the evidence locker was open."
"What the hell is that boy doing?" the deputy asked with a shake of his head.
"Hopefully he ain't gettin' into any trouble," the sheriff answered, though the feeling in his gut told him that was unlikely.
Stepping on the accelerator, Jessup sped his Range Rover toward the light. As they got closer, the flickering became less distinct, but it was clear that there was also a fire somewhere inside this grouping of trees. The two men pulled up and exchanged looks.
With a sigh, Jessup turned off the engine. "He's armed," he warned John.
Deputy Allenbeck returned the sheriff's sigh with one of his own, "I know."
Both men got out of the rover and checked their weapons. Then, with a nod to one another, they stepped into the grove. Right away they could hear a commotion, and they held their guns, both Glock 22's, out and ready. They snuck through the shadows and, in less than a minute, came upon a horrifying scene. A large group of gnolls were writhing and pushing through one another, apparently to get at whatever they had surrounded. The two men could see several of the creatures' corpses littered about, but not nearly as many as were partaking in this orgy of violence.
"Do you think that's him," John whispered to the sheriff, indicating the pile of snapping, howling gnolls.
"I hope not," Jessup said shakily. He looked very ghostlike, especially with his blanched face lit by the flickering fire.
But that question was answered by Bjorn himself. Suddenly there was a motion, like a great surge in the middle of this horde of monsters, and a huge, blood-soaked Hallbjorn Stigandr burst out, flinging two or three of his attackers in the process.
Even in the poor light, the sheriff and the deputy could tell that Bjorn was not quite himself. His entire body was soaked with sweat and blood, which ran off of him in rivulets. His eyes shown with a crazed hatred. They saw his scythe glisten briefly as he cut through a swath of gnolls like they were stalks of wheat in his field.
"Help him!" shouted sheriff Jessup as he began to fire his weapon at some of the gnolls on the outer edge of the ring that surrounded the barbarian of a man in the center.
Immediately, John started, likewise, firing at those creatures that were not too close to Bjorn. Hopefully, they could take out the reinforcements so that he could focus on those creatures that now held his attention. It did not take long for the gnolls to figure out that they had more company. John and Jessup soon found themselves unable to keep track of how Bjorn was doing as they were caught up with enemies of their own.
Deputy Allenbeck mowed down two gnolls, each with a bullet to the face. There wasn't a lot of crime in his town, so he had a lot of time to practice shooting. Another beast came barreling in from the side, and John embedded two bullets in its chest. Two more came charging at him, one from the left and the other from the right. He grazed the first one on the shoulder and missed the second entirely. He fired a second shot at the beast he had missed and hit it in the throat, but the first gnoll ran up and latched onto his wrist, sinking its sharp teeth into the flesh. John dropped his gun involuntarily, but with his other hand he reached down to his belt and pulled off a black device that hung on the opposite hip. With great relish he jammed it into the furry neck of the creature and pressed a button. With a jolt the gnoll let go and fell to the floor, stunned for just a moment. Moving quickly, John retrieved his firearm and shot the prone beast in the head. Instantly, he holstered his stun-gun and took aim at some more gnolls.
Sheriff Jessup was no slouch with a pistol either. Not a single creature could get by him. Until, of course, he ran out of bullets. Three gnolls were there immediately to take advantage of Jessup's situation. What they did not understand, however, was that the sheriff was hardly defenseless without his gun. He holstered the empty weapon and pulled out an all black, military issue Bowie. He dodged two of the creatures while splitting open the third's midsection. It fell over trying to salvage its insides. The other two got the point, almost literally, as Jessup lunged forward aggressively. They backed off, eyeing the dangerous man warily. There were two bangs, and one of the beasts fell over.
At first the sheriff had thought it was deputy Allenbeck who fired the shots, but as his other opponent took off, Jessup realized that it had been Bjorn. The large man stood in the middle of a pile of bodies, glistening with blood, holding his two weapons, and glancing around furtively. His eyes rested on the deputy for just a moment, then he turned around and ran in the opposite direction, bellowing after those few creatures that had finally been wise enough to run away.
"Bjorn, wait!" sheriff Jessup called out. He started to run after him, but a call from his deputy made him freeze. John's voice sounding awfully choked.
The sheriff ran over to deputy Allenbeck just as he fell over. He knelt down beside him and looked him over. There was a bullet hole in his chest just under the left pectoral.
"Oh, man," Jessup said falteringly. "Oh, man, John. We need to get you to a doctor."
"I'll be fine," John said, then he coughed and winced. "As long as you get me to that doctor fast."
Sheriff Jessup picked him up and carried him through the trees out to the Range Rover. He carefully laid John on the backseat and told him to hold his hand over the wound. Then, he hopped into the driver's seat and took off toward town as fast as the vehicle would go.
Bjorn slowly opened his eyes. It was a difficult prospect, as they seemed to be almost glued together. He sat up and squinted into the light. He hurt all over and felt so weary still, but he knew he could not sleep here any more. He blinked down at his arms. They were caked with dry blood. In fact, every part of his body that was not numb with pain seemed to be cracked or sticky with the stuff. He seemed to vaguely remember that he had been chasing after something.
Gnolls.
Yes. It was coming back to him now. His mother. The sheriff's department. The gun. It was all so vague and hazy. He looked down at his hands and saw that one was wrapped tightly around his scythe. Yes, the faithful gnoll reaper.
Gnollreaper.
That seemed a fitting name for the farming implement turned weapon. Just like Hallbjorn was a fitting name for him. It was Scandinavian for 'Stone Bear'. A fitting name for a young man turned... Turned what? Vigilante? Barbarian?
Cop killer.
Bjorn suddenly felt sick. In the deep recesses of his memory he saw the face of deputy Allenbeck looking back at him, eyes wide, almost as wide as the hole in his chest.
"I didn't mean to," he explained to the grass. "I didn't realize they were there. I don't know how I didn't. I remember it, but...it's like I wasn't there. Like I was possessed..."
The grass offered him no sympathy. It just rippled nonjudgementally in the wind. Bjorn knew that the sheriff would not likely be so understanding. He had never heard of a real case where someone had killed a sheriff's deputy, but he had read about it in his comics as a kid. The suspect was prosecuted to the fullest extent of his neck.
Bjorn knew there was no way they would believe that he was possessed, by a demon or anything else. He had to get away. He had to leave the state. He had to move to a city somewhere and change his identity, blend in with the populace. There was nothing left here for him anyway. With a heavy heart and a guilty conscience, Bjorn started walking. He didn't care which direction he went, as long as it was away from town, away from his home, and away from the memories that would haunt him in his dreams for the rest of his life.
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