The Pigs

Little Avenger

Randy and Jenna took turns telling stories until supper time. He could tell her heart wasnt in it today though. She loved her animals, and he had been over several times to see them. She made his favorite for supper. Hot dogs and baked beans. His mom came home shortly after and Jenna left for home.
His mother looked tired. She always looked tired anymore, but he had to know. "Mommy?" He asked quietly. "How did Daddy die? Was it pigs?" She quickly looked up at him, her eyes wide. Then just pulled him close to her and sobbed into his hair, holding him tight. That was all the answer he needed.
He lay awake late into the night. His thoughts whirling crazily in his head. The pigs had to die. How big could the pigs be anyway? Jenna said they were real big. All the pigs he'd seen in movies and on tv were no bigger than a medium size dog at best. He pictured his Grandma's dog Cookie. She was very fat and maybe a little taller than his knees. Not very big or scary.
He knew Jenna wouldn't let him go. He would have to leave as soon as he got home. He had about half an hour before Jenna would show up. She would thank him after though. He was sure of that. He would shoot all the pigs and save the town. Just like the heroes in their stories. He would avenge her pets and his father.
He finally drifted off to sleep. His mother seemed preoccupied the next morning. As though his question the night before had dredged up painful memories. "Don't worry Mommy" he thought "I'll take care of you. Today I become the man of the house."
He sat absentminded in his classes at school. Ignored the occasional taunts and oinks from the other kids. Once off the bus he ran inside and grabbed his gun and the bag he'd packed. He had crackers and juice boxes. Hunters always took supplies. He changed into his boots and headed into the woods towards Jennas house. He figured he could find some tracks or something to follow them.
It took him a half hour to get there. He didn't need to worry about tracking them. The ground was torn up where they'd been. He took a deep breath and began to follow the trail.
He walked for what, to a child, seemed like forever. He came to an old secluded farm house. Possibly lived in but not very welcoming. A large faded red barn sat behind the house, overgrown with weeds.
Randy had a sudden sinking feeling in his stomach. This was the home of what was possibly the towns least friendly adult, Stan. The local adults called him a hermit. The kids told stories of a creepy old man who locked snoopy kids in his barn. He began to back away when he saw him. He was a strange man. He was laying right in the grass in his yard taking a nap! Then Randy saw a pig come from the other side of the house and walk up to the man. It was not the size of a dog. More like a small horse! It started chewing on the Stan's arm, them raised its head and looked right at Randy.
It's said that a pigs sense of smell is better than a bloodhound's. The pig started walking towards the boy. He stood a minute, terrified. Then, hands shaking, he managed to load his bb gun. He pointed the gun at the pig, a much larger target that he was used to, and fired. The bb hit the pig square on the snout. It squealed loudly in surprise but was unhurt. At its cry, several more pigs came around the house and saw the boy. He stood for a moment, then dropped his gun and ran. The full grown pigs were large, but surprisingly fast. Faster than a scared boy. Randy fled into the woods. He was being followed by almost 20 pigs of varying sizes. From the size he had imagined to almost 400 pounds. He saw a large overturned oak tree. He could hide in the roots if he could just make it there in time. He tripped, fell, continued running. He was almost there when he felt teeth sinking into his leg and screamed.