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Chapter 11

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Sirens blared from behind us. Emergency vehicles flooded the campground. Medics, rangers, and police officers raced to the injured.

How the heck did they get here so quickly?

One of them approached me and tended to my wounds.

I winced.

“Looks like you took quite a beating.”

I didn’t respond.

Nothing hurt more than knowing I would never see my grandfather again. I clenched my jaw. No, Jason. Can’t give up yet. Need to ask one of the police officers to drive me out to the woods.

I filed into the crowd, searching for someone in charge.

A ranger marched by.

“Sir,” I raised a hand. He stopped and came my way. “Officer, someone else is still out in the woods.”

He paused.

“Someone else?”

“My Grandfather,” I lowered my head. “I left him out—”

“Jason?” A gruff voice shouted.

I spun around.

Pops?

“Jason, where are you?”

I scanned through the sea of people. An old man wearing a trucker’s hat hobbled through the crowd.

Pops!

I waved, then rushed over to greet the old man. He stood next to Crazy Pete, smiling.

“Your grandson killed that bastard on his own. Damnedest thing I ever saw.”

Pops cocked an eyebrow. “You did that?”

I looked at him, incredulous.

“Never mind that. How did you get back here? I thought for sure you were...”

My voice trailed off. I didn’t even want to think the words.

He shrugged.

“Beast knocked me unconscious. Must have thought I was dead. When I woke up, it was gone.”

I shook my head. “But how did you get here?”

He raised a finger, then rummaged through his cargo pocket. The old man pulled out a rectangular device.

My phone.

“Found your phone in the mud. Called 911.” He gestured toward the emergency personnel. “Got some help.”

My jaw dropped. Unbelievable.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Maybe I was wrong about these things.” He handed it back to me.

Smiling, I tucked the device into my pocket.

Pops placed his hands on his hips, and regarded the monster’s carcass again. “But how did you take it down though?”

I nodded to Pete.

“I had some help.”

Pete waved his hand. “Nonsense. The boy had it all under control. Shot the damn thing with a flare gun.” He pointed at his brow. “Right betwixt the eyes. Blinded the bastard.”

Pops’ forehead wrinkled. “What gave you that idea?”

“I learned it in a video game.”

My grandfather frowned.

“I’ll be damned,” he said, shaking his head. Pops placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m glad you’re okay.”