The creature stopped hitting the back of the truck for a brief, suspended moment. The sudden absence of violence was almost more unsettling than the attack itself. Silas held his breath, one hand still gripping the steering wheel, the other resting near the ignition. The forest had gone quiet again.
Then the creature struck again with a force that rocked the entire vehicle.
"Is it a wild boar?" Silas said, turning his head and glancing uselessly into the impenetrable darkness behind them. The rear window showed nothing but the reflection of his own frustrated face. But as both of the annoying creatures around him, Salvar and Patrick, fell into blessed silence after his earlier scolding, he could hear it clearly. The rough, guttural snort of the boar. The scrape of tusks against metal. The heavy, determined breathing of an animal that had decided this car was its enemy.
