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The buckshot hit the Wendigo's face at point blank range, sending it crashing backward. Jericho looked up at Nashida, who seemed a little more clear-eyed than a few moments before. Not that Jericho had any idea why, nor did he care.
The assassin looked back to the Tree of Woe and saw the Bowie knife handle sticking out of the snow. Nashida may be proud of himself, but the creature wasn't going to stay down. Jericho popped back up to his feet and sprinted to the dagger.
The Wendigo pulled itself back up. Its face was torn and bloody, but other than moving a bit more slowly, the monster didn't seem fazed. Nashida couldn't believe it. His eyes grew wide again, this time out of fear.
CHIK CHIK
BBBOOOMMM
Nashida unloaded again, and once more, the Wendigo drew back. But still, it survived. Through its mangled face, its yellow eyes burned with rage.
GAAAHHHH
The Wendigo lunged for Nashida, who didn't reload. The monster tackled him to the forest floor and sunk its tawny teeth into Nashida's shoulder.
Mommy is so upset with you, Andrew!
"That bitch is dead!" Nashida screamed. Every emotion he felt in that moment came out. He reached for the shotgun, a mere two feet away.
"So's this one." Jericho jammed the silver blade into the creature's back. It reared back and cried under the overhanging moon.
EEEEEEEEEE
Jericho pulled the knife from the Wendigo's back. While the demon's spine arched, bellowing in pain, Jericho dipped under its arm and faced the Wendigo. Before it had the chance to lunge again, Jericho plunged Tom Fiddler's Bowie knife into the center of the creature's torso, making sure to push the blade slightly left.
CCCCAAAHHHHH
The beast shrieked with a sound neither of them had ever heard before. The Wendigo stood straight up with both its gangly claws reaching for the dagger wedged into its chest. It tried to wrap those boney fingers around the handle, but a wave rushed over its body, almost petrifying it. The creature's emaciated form looked like the last drip of water had finally evaporated from the inside. It froze in place and hardened like a dried thousand-year-old mummy.
Both Jericho and Nashida stood locked in position for a moment, trying to figure out what just happened. Jericho moved first as his hands reached up for the handle of the Bowie knife.
"Don't touch it!" Nashida shouted.
Jericho paused. He might be right. There were stories about monsters and dragons who came back to life when a weapon was removed from their cold, dead hearts. Or was that Jason Voorhees? Either way, it was probably best not to chance it. Neither one of them had any urge to do this dance again.
"What is it?" Nashida asked, drawing nearer.
"Like I said, it was Parker Cassata. Now it's a Wendigo."
"What do we do with it?"
Jericho turned to face the man who had made this entire situation so much more complicated than it had to be and asked, "We?"
Speechless, Nashida shrugged and looked back at the petrified Wendigo.
"I ain't doing shit."
Nashida moved closer to get a better view of the creature. Jericho forgot the agent didn't see the Nightcrawler up close all those months back.
"Never seen nothing like that before, huh?” Jericho asked.
Nashida looked back at Jericho and raised his index finger. "Just once."
Nashida pushed over the petrified Wendigo. Jericho leaned in to try and catch the toppling creature but missed. It struck the frozen ground and shattered like a dinner plate hitting the kitchen floor. The whole thing reminded Jericho of an experiment he saw with a snake and a vat of liquid nitrogen.
When the icy smoke and debris cleared, Jericho saw the silver dagger shimmering in the moonlight.
"Huh, I'll be damned." He picked up Tom Fiddler's knife and sheathed it back into the scabbard.
"What now?"
"I don't know about you, but I got a plane ticket waiting for me in High Level."