Tuskers. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Jenny whimpered at the sound of the crash downstairs, and I almost joined her in whimpering.  But despite the equality of our marriage (hell, she had earned most of our income over the years, but I’d never felt less the man for it) I was feeling something old-fashioned rising in me, giving me courage I didn’t think I had -- the need to protect my woman.

“Don’t go out there,” Jenny said, as I approached the bedroom door.

“Where’s the big flashlight,” I asked.

“I left it on the deck,” she said.  “Are the lights out too?”  She said with a steadily rising voice, as if this was the most terrifying thought of all.

I flipped the bedroom light on once or twice to reassure her.  “I was thinking of it more as a weapon.”

“Can’t we just wait until morning?”

“There might still be something I can do to keep them out,” I said, desperately thinking about all the doors and window of the house and wondering which of them were vulnerable and why.  “If we get stuck in here, we’re going be really trapped.  No food, no nothing.”

I cracked the door open an inch and listened.  I couldn’t hear anything from downstairs.  No matter how smart or weird the pigs were acting, I didn’t think they could manage to be stealthy.

“I don’t think any have gotten inside yet,” I whispered.  I slipped out the door before Jenny could answer.  I tiptoed to the hall door and got the big flashlight, which was perched precariously on the railing.

I closed the door quietly and went down the hallway.  I was aware of the pain in my foot, but it was distant, less important now.  My adrenaline was pumping so much, I suspected that the pain was being masked. I’d probably pay for it later, but for now I was just glad to have my mobility back.

I went down the stairs, stopping at every step and listening.

I reached the bottom just as another loud crash echoed through the house and seemed to shake it.  I was three steps up the stairs before I stopped myself.  I turned around and went back down.  Despite the loudness, it was clear to me now the noise was coming from outside.

I reached the kitchen, but something told me not to turn the light on.  I could hear the sound of movement outside the glass sliding doors to the patio.  I went closer.

Then I turned on my flashlight and turned the beam onto the patio.

It was hard to make sense of it at first.  The javelinas were moving around so fast, I couldn’t count them.  The outside table was upside down, like a turtle, and all the lawn chairs were knocked on their sides.  The “Hunter Hacienda” sign was hanging from one hook, and since it was eight feet up, I couldn’t figure out how, until I saw one of the bigger pigs spear a chair cushion with its tusk and send it flying into the air.

Then all movement stopped, as if the pigs were playing “Freeze.”  They turned their snouts in my directions.  I started counting them, mindlessly, and reached twenty-five, which wasn’t even half of them, when they started moving again.  They moved aside, to either side of the patio, leaving a path down the middle.

Razorback sauntered down the middle, seemingly in no hurry.  He reached the glass door and stared up at me, and I realized that he could somehow see me behind the beam.  I put the beam directly into his eyes.  At the same moment I realized I was thinking of it as a “he” instead of an “it,” because there was no denying the intelligence in his eyes.  The other pigs might all by mindless brutes, but he was a thinking creature.  And all his thoughts seemed were turned to chaos and malevolence. 

He turned away abruptly when the light hit his eyes, and trotted to the back of the patio.  The other pigs tracked his retreat with their eyes.  Even through the glass I could hear Razorback’s urgent grunting.  One of the pigs stepped forward, and then slowly turned toward the glass door.

I was backing away even before the pig started running. 

I nearly tripped on the rug my wife kept in front of the sink as the head of the javelina smashed into the door.  There was a loud crack, and the light of the flashlight shimmered off the forming crack, like a lightning bolt in the night sky. 

I turned and ran, but as I passed the pantry, I stopped and put the light on the rows of food.  What would be most useful?  What would last the longest?  I grabbed a big jar of peanut butter.

Then there was another crash behind me, and all thought of planning went out my head, and I just grabbed everything I could carry.  I turned and ran up the stairs, dropping cans and boxes of food behind me.  I reached the bedroom door and slammed it behind me.

I stood with my back to, rasping my breath, my heart pounding so hard I thought it would burst.  I listened, waiting for the sound pursuit.  But it was completely silent.  Even the noise from outside was gone.

Jenny hadn’t said a word when I came crashing into the room, nor did she say anything when I crawled into bed next to her.  She just reached out with trembling hands, and took me in her arms.

Against all expectation, I went to sleep.