Veteran monster hunter Martian L. Beast travels throughout North America, following leads and sightings of creatures that science says don’t exist. When he stops for the night in a small Southwestern town, he has little hope more than to find a few cold beers, something to eat, and a good woman to keep him company for the night. But instead, he meets Patricia, a woman haunted by the memory of her friend Mary’s disappearance.
Unable to recover from that fateful camping trip, Patricia unfolds a whiskey-soaked tale of a mysterious creature lurking in the wooded mountains of Idaho. Lured by the sounds and smells of shared desire between Mary and Patricia, the creature sets its eyes on Mary and won’t take no for an answer.
Lifted from the pages of Martian L. Beast’s journal entry for that evening, this story is one of just handful of stories that would leave him unable to determine what had truly happened. The trail had long gone cold, Martian may not be able to find the truth, but he can at least pass this story on and have a beer or three as he does so.
Leaning forward, more quickly than I had time to react to, Mary pressed her mouth against mine. The breeze came up behind us and Mary’s hair fell across my cheek, as soft and welcoming as her lips. I sighed into her and tentatively placed my hand on the back of her neck, twining my fingers into her strawberry scented hair. Her lips momentarily pulled into a smile as she grabbed the front of my blouse and pulled me closer to her. Off-kilter and more than a little tipsy, I toppled onto her, knocking her off balance. We fell back, landing on the soft sand, a tangled mess of arms and legs.