Chapter 1
Franklin Flucon was shaken from his sleep by a loud, rumbling tremor. It took him a few moments of mumbling confusedly to himself and untangling from his blankets to understand what had happened. His brother Floyd must have been experimenting with his flying contraption, again. A heavy, metal object vibrating into the sky didn’t make much sense to Franklin—heavy, metallic, flapping wings, and a steam-powered engine or not—but his brother seemed confident that it would eventually work consistently. Only a few more kinks to work out before these experiments stopped shuddering themselves out of the sky, the young man supposed. With that thought, he climbed out of bed and went to get breakfast.
“Oh good, you’re awake,” Franklin’s other brother, Frederick, stated sarcastically as Frederick entered the kitchen. “It’s nice that, if nothing else, an earth-shaking explosion will wake you.”
“Come on, it’s not even that late yet,” Franklin objected. “You’re not out there yet, are you?”
“I was about to be, in fact,” Frederick stated pointedly as he pushed his dishes from in front of him and rose to his feet. Bonnie, his wife, appeared from somewhere, gathered them up from the table, and then went off again without a word. “I guess you’ll want to eat before you come out and join me? Possibly change into some fresh clothes? How long will that take you? Maybe I could pull Floyd from his lucrative work while I’m waiting for you?”
The three brothers lived on the family farm, which had once belonged to their mother and father, Marry and Finley Flucon. The brothers shared similar features of brown hair and brown eyes. Floyd, the eldest, wore spectacles and a stylish, waxed moustache, while Frederick wore his beard without a moustache. Though he tried, Franklin was unable to grow any facial hair that he liked, yet. Beyond the hair, each brother was tall, and in fair physical shape. While Frederick was married, the other two brothers had yet to find anyone, although Floyd hardly seemed interested in that. When their father had passed in a farming accident, Frederick had taken over the farm. Not that either of his brothers were upset about that, as he had clearly been the most invested in it.
“You’ll have me to help you, just give me time to wake up,” Franklin dismissed Frederick’s complaints with a wave of his hand. “Give it a rest, already.”
“Boy, just think what Pa would say to that,” Frederick grumbled with irritation as he put his coat on and prepared to walk out the door. “You’re hardly worth the trouble, you know that? You’re lucky you’re my baby brother.”
Franklin did not respond to his brother’s parting remarks, and instead put together his own breakfast of eggs, bacon, and a cup of coffee. He did reflect on Frederick’s griping, however. Floyd’s work drew interest from the scientific community, and he brought money in through grants, so he was no burden to the farm. Franklin, on the other hand, was essentially a glorified farm hand. Not a particularly good one, either. This wasn’t his parents’ farm, and hadn’t been for years, now. How much longer did he want to do this? This gave him pause as he tried to eat, but he pushed the thought aside. He just needed to finish his breakfast and get to work, and then things would be fine.
The young man started to clean his dishes, when his brother’s wife appeared again to take care of them for him. He tried to politely decline, but Bonnie took his dishes from him without a pause, a little smile on her face as she said it was no trouble at all. Franklin stood there for a moment, nonplussed and scratching his head, before going back to his room to change into his work clothes.
When Franklin stepped outside, he heard another commotion. This time, however, it was not his brother’s flying contraption. Floyd was at the center of it, however, and looking quite uncomfortable. He was awkwardly leading a hysterical young lady to the farmhouse, as she clung to him and blubbered into his chest. It was Daisy Sawyer, the girl from the homestead down the road. She had strawberry-colored hair, big, emerald eyes, and a cute, freckly face. Franklin had always had a bit of a crush on her. Presently, Frederick was running up to Floyd and his sobbing companion, so Franklin followed suit.
“It was so awful, Floyd! So awful!” Daisy sobbed into Floyd’s shoulder.
“Um, yes, rather sorry,” Floyd muttered, looking from the girl to his middle brother, as if to ask him for help.
“What happened, Daisy?” Frederick asked concernedly, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“It was… papa!” The girl explained between sobs. “He’s… gone! Someone… it… took him!”
“Took Joe? It?” Frederick asked with a hint of bewilderment on his serious face. “The Hell could get a drop on Old Joe? Did you see it?”
“…No!” Daisy managed to get out, a growing terror taking hold of her distraught face. “Just… the eyes! Those… red eyes!” That was all the poor girl could get out before descending deep into hysteria. As it was clear they would get nothing else out of her, Frederick led the girl into the farmhouse, presumably to his wife, Bonnie. Floyd and Franklin stood together in awkward silence until he came back.
“What are we going to do?!” Franklin demanded when his brother got back.
“Well, I think we ought to let the sheriff know,” Frederick suggested. “He’ll sort this out.”
“What?! Do you really think he’s gonna come all the way out here to nose around in the woods for glowing red eyes?!” Franklin objected. “It’s probably some animal! We should take care of it!”
“We have work to do!” Frederick stated bluntly. “This farm isn’t going to run itself! But maybe you’re right about that sheriff. Maybe Floyd could fly over, take a look around?”
“Well, yes, I guess that, once I’ve worked some of the kinks out, I can get her back in the air and go check that out…” Floyd muttered noncommittally.
“How long is that going to take?!” The youngest brother demanded, gesturing his hands out emphatically. “Old Joe could still be alive! We could go save him!”
“Or we could end up just like him,” the middle brother warned sternly. “Old Joe knew these lands, and all the wild critters in them, better than any of us. He knew how to deal with anything that came his way. If whatever’s out there got the best of him, you can bet your bottom dollar it could get the best of any of us, too.”
“That’s why we should all go!” Franklin persisted, swinging a backhand at the air in front of him. “We could keep an eye out for each other!”
“No,” Frederick stated bluntly. “We can’t afford all of us going on a wild goose chase that could get one or all of us hurt, or worse. Floyd will do a flyover to see what’s happening, and when we can, we’ll gather a posse to sort things out. Now, not another word, little brother. It’s time you got your chores done!”
That was that. Begrudgingly, Franklin did as he was told, and the day progressed uneasily. He briefly thought to himself that his father would have done things differently if he were still around, but then decided he didn’t really know if that was true. While Franklin and Frederick minded the farm, Floyd worked to get his contraption back in the air. Around lunchtime, Franklin heard his brother’s death trap gyrate violently into the air, and then saw its metallic body reflecting the sun through the clouds of vapor that surrounded it, as it struggled through the sky. It sure did make a mess of the air when it took off, Franklin thought. In any case, a few hours later, Floyd and his machine returned violently to the ground—one of his better landings.
“What did you see?” The middle brother asked the eldest as he dusted himself off.
“Trees, mostly,” Floyd muttered noncommittally.
“So, no signs of Joe or his attacker, then?” Frederick pressed.
“Oh no, nothing?!” Daisy asked with big, wet eyes, as she suddenly appeared next to them. “But you’ll figure out what happened to him, right, Floyd?! You’ll save Papa!”
“Um, well, I’m sure… we’ll… figure something out…” Floyd muttered, looking to Frederick with a kind of helpless expression.
“Of course, we’ll figure something out. Don’t worry,” Frederick reassured Daisy with a smile. “Why don’t you go ahead and get back inside? Find Bonnie? She can help you keep busy, not worry too much about what’s going on.” Still staring longingly at Floyd, the girl nodded meekly, turned around, and headed back to the house.
“Nothing, then?” Franklin questioned. “Sounds like we aren’t gonna find anything out unless we go there on foot.”
“Which is too dangerous, and we don’t have time for it,” Frederick stated flatly. “We’re almost through the day. Just take care of the rest of your chores, and we’ll talk more about this over dinner.”
“What is there to talk about?!” Franklin objected. “There’s nothing to accomplish through talking! We gotta get out there! We’ve wasted enough time as it is!” Frederick seemed about to sternly dismiss his brother’s objections again, but when he opened his mouth, nothing came out. He looked at Floyd for a moment, who simply shrugged. With a sigh, he looked back to Franklin again.
“You’re not gonna wait around for us to figure something out, are you?” Frederick asked rhetorically. “Look, you’re an adult. I’m not Pa. I can’t stop you from doing whatever it is you’re gonna do. I can strongly suggest not to do it, and I am. If you insist on doing it, though, you know where Pa’s rifle is. Take it. Be careful.”
“You’re not coming with?” Franklin asked, suddenly feeling some reservations, now that he wasn’t being told he couldn’t run off to some unknown danger.
“No. I have a farm to take care of and a wife to see to. You do this, you’re on your own,” Frederick stated firmly, looking his brother in the eyes. “Think about it long and hard before you do something stupid.”
“What about you, Floyd?” Frederick turned to his eldest brother, who was staring sheepishly at the ground.
“I’ve really got… a lot of work to do… with the machine…” Floyd muttered awkwardly.
“Well… that’s it then, I guess,” Franklin stated reluctantly. “Guess I’ll… go get the rifle… and get going…” He slowly walked back to the farmhouse. Floyd turned back to his machine without a second glance, but Frederick watched the youngest brother as he went inside, a serious look on his face. It gave Franklin an uneasy feeling as he went inside. Frederick was right, of course. Franklin knew where his father’s shotgun was. He found it on the mantle over the fireplace in the main room, and then gathered the rounds they had. His father had used this rifle in the war, and he had been very proud of it. It had saved his life, his father had said, so hopefully, it would do the same for Franklin.
“So you’re going on your own, Frank?” Bonnie asked as he got his things in order. She handed him a cloth bundle. “Some bread and jerky. It’s not much, but It’s what I could put together. I’m sorry no one could go with you. Be careful, okay? Come back if it looks dangerous.”
“Thanks, I’ll be fine,” Franklin muttered as he packed the cloth bundle. He liked Bonnie, and he had always thought she was rather pretty. He felt at times, however, that she mothered him a bit, which was odd, given that she was only a few years older than he was. His own mother had died when he was still young. Some kind of illness that he hadn’t understood at that age. Really, he barely remembered her.
“Yes, do be careful, Frank!” Daisy’s big eyes looked on him with concern as she clutched his hand, and he felt his cheeks flush. “Thank you for trying to help Pa.”
“Of-of course, Daisy,” Franklin stammered as he quickly and awkwardly put the rest of his stuff together, threw on his hat, and started out the door without looking back at the girl. He hated how awkwardly he handled this, but he couldn’t help it. “I’ll do my best. Yeah, my best. Your dad, your dad’ll be fine, you’ll see!”
“Good luck!” Franklin barely caught Daisy Sawyer calling to him as he shut the door to the farmhouse and started to the dirt road that led to her home. It was around then that the young man started to think that maybe this was a fairly stupid thing to do. He didn’t have much experience with firearms, or with tracking animals. Or people, for that matter. Whatever was out there might have an advantage on him. He wasn’t about to turn around then, however. He had to prove himself. If only to himself. He had to do something.
The area his family lived in was essentially on the frontier. There were no big cities nearby, just a small town called Ajax. The Flucon Farm was near the edge of the community, and the Sawyer homestead was barely connected to it. Old Joe hadn’t built his home quite on the edge of the forest, but it was still rather close. As Franklin walked down the dirt road, trees started to overtake more and more of the farmland. The Sawyers had a few animals that they kept for some foods, but Joe primarily made his income from lumber. There was plenty of it to harvest, where he was located. At times—like this—Franklin thought maybe there was too much of it to harvest. The old forest loomed, dark and foreboding, over the Sawyer homestead, the trees suggesting their own sinister presence. Maybe they didn’t like Old Joe chopping so many of them down, and they took revenge on him?
The door to the Sawyer home was wide open, although it didn’t look like anyone had gone inside since this morning, and a quick look inside told Franklin that nothing had been disturbed. Unless, of course, someone was hiding in one of the back rooms… but Franklin was there for Old Joe. Hopefully no mischief occurred inside the home while its owners were out. Franklin shut the front door and went around back.
Near the tree line, Franklin saw an axe, its head buried in the ground. He approached it slowly, and then examined the nearby ground for any tracks. It looked like maybe there had been a struggle, there, but not much of one. Some broken branches and some scuffed up dirt were on the ground, but no blood. Wouldn’t there be some trace of blood, though, if an animal attacked a person, here? Maybe it wasn’t an animal that had done this… Franklin could vaguely make out a trail that went into the forest. If he could make it out, he assumed whatever made it had not been concerned with hiding its tracks.
Once more, the youngest Flucon brother had an overwhelming sense that what he was doing might be really stupid. There was an overwhelming reluctance to follow the trail he had found, freezing him where he stood for longer than a moment. Would he turn back? Bonnie had told him to turn back if things seemed bad. Maybe that was the sensible thing to do. On the other hand, was he really going to go back to Daisy Sawyer without stepping one foot into the old forest? Would he make such a lousy attempt to find her Papa and his attacker? After muttering a series of curses, Franklin plunged into the forest, not giving himself another opportunity to turn back.
