9_3

Several hours later, de Hogue was awoken by some one shaking his arm. Startled he looked about himself in confusion. Torn from his dreams he stared at the all but deserted tap room of the Old George and realised that he had fallen asleep.
Standing over him was Stokes.
“Wake up man” Stokes shook him again, harder.
“Yes. I’m awake! What is it?” he replied angrily.
Stokes sat down opposite him and glanced around the room.
“I followed its trail, and I think I know where we can find it!”
“It?” de Hogue sat up and rubbed his chin. Unshaven and with a foul taste in his mouth, he looked about the room in some confusion. “What time is it?”
Stokes shrugged and pulled an angry face.
“Who cares!” he said. “Did you hear what I just said?”
De Hogue was still groggy but his mind was awake and he nodded.
“What do you mean by ‘it’?” he asked.
Stokes nodded thoughtfully, “I’ll tell you what, de Hogue” he began in a low voice, “I was never fully convinced that this was a creature until last night. Now I know it is. I followed it as it fled from the scene of the murder, but it ran so fast that I lost it almost at once.”
De Hogue did not reply, but he tilted his head and listened carefully. Stokes was animated and his eye’s shone with a lustre which had been thus far lacking in de Hogue’s experience. What ever Stokes had seen, it had galvanized him with enthusiasm.
“I had to wait until the sun came out before I could track it.” Stokes continued “and you were right about the marks by the way. What ever it is it walks on pointed hooves, and I think there may be more than one of them”
“More than one of what?” de Hogue asked.
“That’s just it” Stokes threw up his hands, “I don’t know of any animal which leaves a mark as this one does.”
“The triangular marks?” de Hogue nodded. “So it’s not a tool then?”
“It could be a man wearing some form of spiked boot, but I doubt it. There are simply too many marks for it to be just one man.”
“You said you might know where it is?”
Stokes nodded. I followed the tracks, and they ran along the hills for a while before doubling back to the village.”
“Here?” de Hogue sat upright in consternation.
“Not quite” Stokes replied. “There is an old abandoned wind mill about half a mile outside the village. I think that’s where it’s hiding.”
De Hogue stood up and reached for his coat.
“Do you think it’s there now?” he asked.
Stokes adopted a cautious face.
“I don’t know. I haven’t actually seen it.”
“Well, lets get Bailey and go and find out!” de Hogue replied.
Stokes nodded and they left the inn, walking with some urgency back to Bailey’s cottage. As they walked, Stokes asked about Norris. He knew Arkwright was dead. He’d seen the two corpses after he followed the sounds of gunfire through the trees, but the last he’d seen of Norris, the man had been lying in Bailey’s arms and looking bad. He had not waited to find out why so he listened to de Hogue’s account with a serious face then sighed.
“Then there is only the three of us” As they rushed up the path to Bailey’s door, de Hogue replied, “Aye, but that’s still three against one right?”

Bailey finally opened the door and stood peering at them myopically. He listened to them with a detached frown then shuffled back inside leaving the door wide open. De Hogue followed him.
“Well?”
“I’m right with you” Bailey replied. He picked up several weapons, including his coach man’s gun; a thick wide barrelled blunderbuss type weapon and pulled back the flint lock to the ready position. “What does he mean by ‘creature’?”
“I don’t know” de Hogue admitted.
Stokes poked his head in through the door way.
“It’s not a man. I’m sure of that.”
Bailey checked the weapon’s powder tray as he spoke,
“What makes you so certain?”
“It has too many feet” Stokes replied. It’s either an animal of some kind or several men in very strange footwear.”
Bailey fretted with the notion.
“But what does that mean?” he asked angrily. “That some strange creature crawled out of the sea, and started killing people and sheep for no apparent reason? What kind of an animal are we talking about here?”
Stokes said nothing. His eyes had become hooded and cold at Bailey’s tone.
“There are strange creatures which live in the depths of the sea” de Hogue said. “It’s not so unusual that a new species might suddenly come to light.”
Bailey regarded him with a faintly accusing look. He opened his mouth in a sneer, but thought better of it.“Lets go.” He said as he passed de Hogue his sabre. “We can debate monsters and dragons after we kill it!”
He marched from the cottage and Stokes and de Hogue, meeting each others eyes, followed him. All three carried several weapons, and as they strode through the village more than one face appeared at a window to mark their passage.
Outside the Old George, they came across Thatcher. In one hand he held his long barrelled rifle, in the other a pewter mug.
“Good afternoon to ye Gents” he tipped the mug in salute.
Bailey ignored him, walking by without a glance. Thatcher turned to de Hogue and Stokes.
“Will ye be requiring any assistance then?” he asked.
Stokes nodded,
“If you’re up for it, then come on.”
Thatcher tossed back the contents of the mug then threw it back into the inn.“I’m always up for it!” he chuckled. “Where are we heading?”