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Shandi gave the attendant five dollars and entered Jaguar Stadium. It was a paltry sum of money, but it irked her that press didn’t get in for free, even if the paper footed the bill. Sports reporting barely elevated itself above the weather.
Shandi’s understanding of football had grown mightily over the years, especially when Macy had started crushing on Wes Morris. Her daughter, who had previously spent entire football games beneath the bleachers with her friends, had transformed into an avid football fan. Their courtship only existed in Macy’s dreams the previous football season, but her crush became an obsession and she insisted that learning about football would endear her to Wes. Clearly, it had worked.
As Shandi walked up the stairs into the bleachers, she took note of Cam standing along the fence. The fence acted as a shrine for the true football fans of Rose Valley. Mostly peopled with old men, all those armchair coaches who viewed the players as little more than figures and stats.
Ironically, Cam had despised football when they were married. Once he’d seriously committed to running for sheriff, though, he became an overnight expert, as one did not get elected as sheriff in Rose Valley without credentials as an enthusiastic Jaguars fan. The fact that Macy had also quickly learned the game for her own selfish reasons bothered Shandi.
The game hadn’t even started, and the fencers were already yelling to some of the players and at the coaches.
“Oh come on! That play will never work!” one guy yelled.
“Seriously, you’re warming up Campbell?” another man’s voice echoed.
The litany of critiques filled the air, in such great volume that Shandi lost track of it all. Listening to the complaints on the fence, one might think that the Jaguars had no hope, despite a mountain of statistical evidence to the contrary.
Macy had ridden to the game with friends and was probably out there somewhere in the crowd, maybe blowing kisses to Wes. Shandi tried to remember what it was like to be young and in love.
“Shandi! Sit by us!”
The voice came from Dub Higgins, still in his deputy’s uniform. Sitting beside him was a short, beautiful woman with long dark hair and chocolatey eyes. Unlike Shandi’s pale, freckled skin, Marie seemed to sport a smooth, permanent tan.
Shandi really didn’t want to sit with the Higgins family, so she quickly looked around for some other seat—for some other person she could use as an excuse. She needed someone who would play along. Her eyes searched the crowd before finally landing on her mark—Steve and Cory.
“You know, I would love to,” said Shandi. “but I promised Steve I’d sit with him and Cory. Raincheck?”
“Of course, dear,” Marie said, with a faint accent.
Shandi bounded up the stairs towards Steve. As she approached, she realized that he and Cory were sitting with someone else, an old schoolmate named Deirdre Valentine. Despite Deirdre having moved back to Rose Valley years ago, the two of them had strangely never run into each other. Certainly, the good doctor heretofore lacked the time to attend a Rose Valley football game.
Though still very much Deirdre, she looked underweight and extremely tired, and all of Shandi’s instincts told her that something more pressing than football now drained Deirdre’s energy.
Shandi muttered so only they could hear. “Play along.”
Steve immediately smiled. Cory stood up and hugged her. Deirdre looked confused.
“Thanks for coming. It’s so great to see you!” Cory oversold it, talking a bit too loudly.
“Hey, Shandi,” Steve said, playing it much cooler. “Have a seat. You remember Dee, right?”
Steve called her Dee, but Shandi had only ever called her Deirdre. Deirdre held out her hand and Shandi shook it. In high school, Deirdre had always managed to steal away Jake’s attention. But that had been years ago. Shandi felt silly for her lingering jealousy.
“Hey, Deirdre,” Shandi said, coolly. “Good to see you.”
“Likewise. I’ve been back for years now, and I realized what a shame it is that I don’t get out and spend time with old friends. It seemed like a football game was a great way to remedy that.” Deirdre’s initial grin grew into a wide, friendly smile.
No matter how the years had treated her, Deirdre still possessed Aphrodite-level beauty. It wasn’t fair that she also got an Einstein-level brain.
“I didn’t realize you and Steve were so close,” Shandi said, trying to bait out why Deirdre had chosen to reunite with this particular set of friends. Shandi didn’t remember Steve and Deirdre running in the same circles. Some of Deirdre’s closer friends had, in fact, never left. Had she fallen out with them? Why not sit with one of them?
Deirdre responded, “Well, you know time changes our perspective on things. I had hoped Jake would be here, but Steve says he stayed behind.”
Of course, Jake stayed behind. He hadn’t been to a football game since he’d been back, and if Deirdre were really any kind of friend, she’d know that. What angle was she playing here? Shandi decided she didn’t care—or rather, didn’t want to care.
Rather than fixate on the reappearance of Deirdre Valentine, Shandi chose to sink herself into her job. She took a seat beside Cory, fished out her notepad and took in the crowd, jotting down colorful notes that she could use for her coverage.
After a moment, she heard Steve say, “You should come over for dinner tomorrow. Jake will be there.”
Shandi looked up, excited at the chance to see Jake. Yet Steve’s eyes weren’t addressing her. They were on Deirdre.
Steve continued, “Might be good for you guys to see each other outside the clinic.”
Deirdre nodded and smiled. “That sounds awesome! I’d love to!”
To Shandi, that reply sounded exaggerated. Forced, even. But it was probably her own petty high school hangovers talking.
Cory chimed in. “Good idea. Now we don’t have to worry about Jake being awkward all night.”
Shandi chuckled. “Yeah. He can awkwardly fawn over Deirdre instead.”
The group fell quiet. Deirdre looked at Steve. Steve looked at Cory. Deirdre broke the unease with an uncharacteristic and forced waifish giggle. Shandi took refuge in her notepad.
A strange hush suddenly fell over the crowd. Faint screams and sharp gasps echoed across the stadium. Then a loud crash as a bench flew into the bleachers. Frantic murmurs and screams filled the air again as people scurried in different directions, pushing, yelling.
Chaos erupted. Shandi stood up, but her height prevented her from being able to see past the people in front of her. She jockeyed for a better view before putting her hand on Cory’s shoulder and stepping up on the bleachers. There was something going on down on the field.
Shandi glanced frantically down to the track around the football field and saw ... something.
Saw it.
Here before her stood the monster that Bernard conjured in his stories. The weird creature that slaughtered their livestock. The mysterious man-thing that had caused Wes to crash his car. Shandi scrambled for her camera, brought it up to her face and, after minor fiddling, flipped it to video mode.
From what she could see, the creature looked much as Macy and Wes had described. It looked like a humanoid male of enormous bulk. Its long hair obscured most of its face and it was smeared in dirt. Its movement seemed foreign, though; hunched over like a gorilla, but never using its shorter front arms for support.
Shandi’s breath sped up as she forced herself to remain calm enough to get it all on film. If she were closer, she might have felt a stronger urge to run, but from this distance she felt safe. She would need all the details later, and she couldn’t afford to give in to the fear that threatened to take over. Macy had guessed it was about seven feet tall, but Shandi’s mind put it closer to six-foot-three or four, at most.
It hadn’t thrown anything else into the bleachers, but it waded through the equipment on the field like it were walking through a field of wheat, ripping shoulderpads in half, and shoving benches out of its way. It seemed aimless, with no intent or purpose other than destruction. It picked up a five-gallon cooler and smashed it between its hands as if it were an egg. Gatorade exploded in all directions.
The display of strength jolted Shandi back into the present, needling her to take stock of the things that mattered. She needed to find Macy. Shame rushed through Shandi’s blood—why hadn’t she connected with her daughter earlier? Any person with good sense would run from the stadium, but Macy had the common sense of a teenager.
Shandi shoved the Nikon into Steve’s hands. “Whatever you do, don’t stop filming. Ok?”
Steve nodded. His eyes were wide and his face white. Deirdre had run. Cory stood next to Steve, seemingly frozen in fear. Maybe Steve wouldn’t keep the film rolling, but Shandi had a more urgent task now. She sprinted forward, pushing through the crowd and shoving the people who had stayed out of the way. Most seemed mesmerized, unable to move or react. Shandi hoped that they wouldn’t regret it.
When she reached the bottom of the bleachers, frantically searching for any sign of Macy, Shandi glanced back to the beast as it turned towards Dub, who slowly crept out onto the black spongy track, his gun raised towards the creature. A gun wouldn’t be enough. Shandi feared this might be the last time she saw Dub Higgins alive.
