ACROSS THE PLAINS COMES THE VERDILLAC

Donald Frazer was a tall heavily built man, with blond hair, and for some reason a ginger moustache. Complete with a vest, checked coat and trousers, pipe, and a deerstalker hat, he looked like the perfect English gentleman farmer. Except for the fact that his farm was outside Merridale in the Victorian countryside.

Donald set out on horseback that morning to see what damage had been done to his upper paddock in the storm that had raged the previous night.

As he reached the halfway mark of the hill, known locally as Frazer's mount, however, his horse, Henny, began to whinny and refused to climb the hill, which she had ridden up and down without trouble for fifteen years now since Don had inherited Frazer's Farm.

"What's wrong, girl," he asked patting her neck, trying to comfort the Bay.

By way of answer, the mare bucked suddenly, causing Don to scream, as he was thrown backwards into the air. He landed with a thud, on his back.

Traumatised, he lay there for a minute or so. Then when his heart stopped tom-tomming in his chest, he checked himself all over and found that he was unhurt, other than minor bruising.

Donald stood up and looked around, he could just make out the figure if the mare galloping back toward the farmhouse.

"Crazy bitch," he said, brushing himself down. "Never trust a woman ... even if she's a horse."

After a moment, he turned and started up the hill on foot.

"Oh, my God!" he cried looking at the devastation. The whole paddock had been razed. Every single apple tree and bush was uprooted and tossed aside like matchsticks.

"Must have been one Hell of a storm," he said, "lucky it didn't crash the farmhouse down around me.

On further inspection, however, he noticed that most of the trees seemed to have been chewed through, rather than just broken or torn out of the ground.

What kind of storm chews through trees, he thought. But there seemed to be no doubt that they had been chewed through, by something with gigantic teeth. But what? he thought, Australia doesn't have bears or anything with teeth that big. The jagged chew marks looked too big for a wolf or even a tiger to have caused.

"Oh, well," he said. Turning, he started on his long walk back to the farmhouse, cursing Henny the mare, while wishing that he had kept his weight more in check. His wife had been nagging him for years to lose thirty kilos, but he did love his steak and chips, with plenty of good Victorian Bitter.



Over at Mrs. Morton's boarding house at the end of Rochester Road, in Merridale, Colin Klein sat down for breakfast. Colin was a tall, athletic redheaded Englishman, a reporter currently on long service leave, exploring legends and wonders of Australia.

Without even asking what he wanted, Mrs. Morton gave the redheaded man a huge plate, piled high with bacon, scrambled eggs, two sausages, toast with butter and marmalade, a buttered crumpet, peas, and carrots.

"Whoa, are you trying to make me break my diet, Mrs. Morton," teased the reporter.

"I've got to build you up a bit Mr. Klein. You're all skin and bones."

"I like to think of myself as wiry."

"You young people just don't eat enough these days," insisted the old lady.

"At forty-eight, I hardly regard myself as a young person."

"Well, of course, you are," she said, pouring him out a cup of tea. Wrongly assuming that as an Englishman he would prefer tea to coffee. In fact, he hated tea but didn't have the heart to tell the old lady that.

"Make sure that you eat every bite," instructed Mrs. Morton, as though talking to her son, not a boarder.

"Yes, Mum," teased Colin Klein. He sensed that she would make certain that he left nothing on his plate before letting him leave the table.

Half an hour later, feeling well and truly stuffed, Colin stood up and said, "I think I'd better go and walk off some of your excellent cuisine, Mrs. Moron."

"Yes, you go and do that," said Mrs. Morton, who had never been married in her life, but had started to call herself Mrs. soon after her fiftieth birthday.



Outside the two-storey red brick boarding house, Colin Klein, almost collided with a lofty powerhouse of a man, whom he wrongly assumed to be a farmhand.

"Colin Klein?" asked the brown haired man.

"Yes," said Colin.

"I'm Stanlee Dempsey, Sergeant of Police at Merridale and East Merridale."

"Uh-oh," teased the redhead, "you've caught me already."

Ignoring the sarcasm, Dempsey said, "Paul Bell warning me that you might be coming to my neighbourhood."

"Warned you?"

"Yes, we had a long, interesting chat about your adventures in Harpertown, LePage, and BeauLarkin."

"It's not my fault if weirdness seems to follow me around wherever I go."

"Yes, he said you were a bit of a monster-magnet."

"How dare he," said Colin genuinely pissed off.

"Anyway, I thought you might like to come with me to check out some damage on Don Frazer's upper paddock last night?"

"Yes, I could bearly get to sleep for the howling winds. It must have been quite a Hell of a storm."

"That's what Don thought, at first."

"At first?" asked Colin.

"Perhaps we'd better go check it out for ourselves."



Thirty-five minutes later they were standing on top of the hill, looking about at the damage in amazement.

"What the...?" said Colin Klein, looking at the chewed-looking trees.

"He was right," said Stanlee Dempsey. "Don said that they looked like they'd been chewed through rather than snapped by the wind."

"They certainly do," said the redheaded reporter. "But what the Hell has big enough teeth to make these marks?" The marks seemed to have been made by teeth nearly a metre long.

"Some types of shark do," said Dempsey. "But you don't see too many sharks on the highlands of Merridale. Only the investment banker type."

Hearing a car approaching, they looked around to see the chubby figure of Don Frazer driving up in a sky-blue Land Rover.

"Not riding Henny today?" asked Stanlee.

"No," said Don walking up to them. "The stupid bitch refused to climb the hill earlier, and actually threw me when I tried to force her."

"Well, you know what they say," teased Colin, "No means no, you shouldn't have tried to force her."

Ignoring Colin Klein, Don asked Stanlee, "So what's your verdict?"

"You were right. Something with huge teeth chewed threw the trees and seemingly devoured most of the vegetation," admitted Dempsey. "Although God knows what we have in Australia with teeth that big."

"Or anywhere else," added Colin Klein. "Wolves, tigers, bears, none of those would have teeth that big. Maybe Elephants. But they would pull trees out of the ground with their trunks, or bash them out with their backsides, not chew through them."

"So, what can we do?" asked the farmer.

"I'll ring through to Melbourne to see if I can get an expert on wildlife to come up here," said Stanlee.



Henry McGinty was sitting in a rocking chair on the back porch of his farm outside Merridale, enjoying a cold Boag's Lager as twilight started to fall.

"Those Taswegans sure know how to make a fine beer," he said between sips. He had never liked Victorian beer, to the surprise of all of his friends, most of whom drank Victoria Bitter, Melbourne Bitter, or Foster's Lager. "A mighty fine beer."

He was enjoying another sip of Boag's when the sky suddenly darkened as a huge, V-shaped object soared overhead.

"What the...?" he said. "Must be one of those stealth bomber thingeys."

Then the object swooped down and swept up half a dozen of Henry's prized Jersey Cattle. Which mooed in terror as the unknown creature zoomed up again, chewing its meal without even landing.

"What the hell," said Henry, racing inside to get his mobile phone to take a picture of the V-shaped object. But by the time that he found it and got back outside, the creature was long gone.



Colin Klein had just quaffed down another of Mrs. Morton's huge meals, this time two porterhouse steaks, two fried eggs on toast, mashed potatoes, peas, carrots, and Brussel sprouts, for his tea. Feeling bloated he stood up to stagger up to his first-storey room when there came a hammering upon the front door.

"Now who can that be, at this hour?" asked Mrs. Morton. She started toward the door, but Colin said:

"That's all right, Mrs. M, I'll get it."

He walked across and opened the front door to be greeted by the powerhouse figure of Stanlee Dempsey.

"It's happened again," said Stanlee.

The redheaded reporter had to think for a moment, then said: "More trees eaten?"

"No seven Jersey cows this time," said Stanlee, as they started across to his pale blue Range Rover.



Twenty-five minutes later they were standing on Henry McGinty's porch, talking to the small stocky man, who was holding a stubby of Boag's Lager in his left hand. Looking around the two men saw four empty stubbies beside a cane rocking chair on the porch.

Seeing where they were looking, McGinty said, "I don't have the DTs if that's what yer thinkin'. A giant V-shaped thingey swooped down and ate my Jerseys. Seven of them anyway. It was like a gigantic, colossal bat ... except that it didn't seem to have any lower body or talons. Just a gigantic V-shaped black body, and metre-long teeth.

Colin and Dempsey started and looked at each other at the mention of metre-long teeth.

Picking up a large military-style torch, McGinty said: "See for yourselves."

Even from the farmhouse, with the powerful torch, they could see a bloody mess in the front paddock, but up closer they noticed two half-eaten cow heads, hind quarters of two cows, plus a mess of entrails and organs."

"Holy shit," said Colin Klein.

"Seven of my best Jerseys that damned monster ate," said the farmer.

"How do you know it was seven?" asked Stanlee.

"I know how many cows I got," said McGinty. "I had forty-two. But now there's only thirty-five, which means that damned thing ate seven of them. Minus the remains that fell outta its mouth."

At the other end of the paddock, obviously spooked by what had happened, the other Jerseys, huddled together. Pointing at them, Henry said, "Count 'em if you like."

"No need, we believe you," said Colin Klein.

"Well, what ya gonna do about it?" demanded the farmer.

"Tonight nothing," said Stanlee, "but I've got a wildlife biologist coming down from Melbourne tomorrow. Maybe he can shed some light on what did this."

"I done told you," persisted Henry McGinty, "a gigantic V-shaped thingey."

"But he'll be able to tell us, hopefully, just what the giant V-shaped thingey is," said Colin Klein.

As they turned to leave, Stanlee Dempsey added, "And don't touch the remains, the biologist bloke will need to see everything to tell us what that thing is."

"Okey dokey," said McGinty.

"And don't tell the press," warned Colin, "or your farm will soon be swarming with UFOlaloonies, swearing it was a spaceship that stole the cattle."

"Damned loonies," said Henry. At last saying something that Stanlee and Colin could believe.



At nine o'clock the next morning, Stanlee Dempsey and Colin Klein were at the single platform of the railway station in Yorke Street, Merridale, waiting for the daily train from Melbourne.

"So how do we recognise him? This wildlife biologist?" asked Colin as they heard the tooting of the steam train a kilometre away.

"Well," said Stanlee, "I was assuming that he would be wearing a white lab coat like scientists always do on telly."

When the train pulled into the station, fifty or so people alighted. One of them was a tall, leggy brunette, of perhaps thirty-five, who looked around the station for a moment. Then spotting Stanlee Dempsey's uniform, she strode across to the two men.

Holding out her right hand, she said, "Hi, I'm Totty Rampling. The wildlife biologist." Both men stared at the brunette for a moment, then shaking her hand, Stanlee asked:

"Totty? Is that you're real name?"

"No, it's Rebekkah. But ever since I was little I've always been called Totty. So where do you want me to start?"

"Don't you want to get booked into a boarding house first?" asked Colin Klein.

"Oh, goodness no, I can't possibly stay more than a day. I'll be back in Melbourne by tomorrow morning," she said. "So where do we start?"

"Over at Don Frazer's upper paddock," said Stanlee, leading her across to his blue Ranger Rover.

"Can I carry that for you?" offered Colin, seeing her staggering a little under the weight of the black case that she was carrying.

"No thanks, it contains all of my equipment, I never let anyone else carry it."



Forty-five minutes later they were at the hilltop looking around the wreckage.

"Hell of a storm, aye," said Don Frazer, looking around at the dozens of uprooted or broken trees and brown dirt where the grass and shrubbery had been removed.

"No," said Totty, looking as puzzled as the men. "I don't think any of this was caused by a storm." Examining the chew marks on one broken apple tree under a magnifying glass. "All of this was caused by an animal or animals."

"So what caused it?" asked Stanlee.

"Ah, now there you've got me," said the brunette, standing again. "Is this the only damaged site?"

"No Henry McGinty had seven cows devoured," said Dempsey. "He told us the weirdest story..."

Totty held up a hand to silence the policeman: "Don't tell me. I don't want to hear any theories or stories until I've had a chance to examine the remains for myself."

So saying, she put away her instruments and carried them across to the Range Rover, followed by Stanlee Dempsey and Colin Klein.

"Have you taken any photos of either site?" asked the brunette as she snapped on her seat belt.

"Dozens at this site," said Stanlee, "but the other happened at twilight, and we thought we'd better collect you first, before going there this morning."

"Fair enough," said Totty, "but you'd better take your photos first before I do my investigation."



Forty-odd minutes later Stanlee Dempsey had taken his photos and Totty Rampling, now in a blue plastic coverall, was kneeling beside the mutilated cattle remain, examining them. Wisely, Henry McGinty had moved the rest of the herd to another paddock, since they were still panicked by what had happened.

After an hour or so, she had taken samples to be tested and stood up.

"So what caused it?" asked Stanlee.

"Damned if I know," said the brunette, "but I will say that when it comes to exotic animals the Melbourne Wildlife Safari Park has nothing on the outback."

"We thought of sharks," teased Colin Klein, "but they don't often come this far inland."

"Ah, sharks," mused Totty, "beautiful creatures."

"You wouldn't say that if you were out swimming and one came up to you," joked Colin.

"Probably not," said the brunette with a laugh. "Well, I'd better take my samples back to Melbourne tonight for testing. Then I'll be back here tomorrow. This time with some changes of clothing. I wasn't expecting to spend more than a day on this, so didn't bring anything except my equipment."

"What?" asked Colin Klein: "You thought it would be a dingo or something simple, and that we locals yokels were too dumb to figure that out."

Blushing deeply, she said: "Something like that. I'm sorry."

"I can tell ya what did it," said Henry McGinty.

"No, no," said Totty, holding up a hand to stop him. "I need to examine these samples first. That means going back to Melbourne."

"Not necessarily," said Stanlee Dempsey. "The morgue in Dien Street and the hospital, both in Glen Hartwell, have excellent research labs."

"Killer," said Totty.

"Even we poor local yokels have some sky-ence knowledge, marm," teased Colin Klein.

"So I hear," said the brunette laughing.



Half an hour later they were at Jerry Green's morgue. Known locally as Elvis, due to his long black sideburns and obsession with the dead rock star.

"Mr. Klein," said Jerry by way of greeting, "I might have known that when something weird turned up, you wouldn't be far behind."

"If you call me a monster-magnet, I'll sue you for real this time," said the redheaded reporter, only half joking.

"A monster magnet?" asked Totty, puzzled.

"This is the fourth time when something ... let's say a little outré has occurred in the Glen Hartwell to Willamby region lately," said Jerry Green. "And on each occasion Mr. Klein has turned up soon after, or even before the oddities started."

"That's purely co-incidence," insisted Colin Klein.

"Oh, I see," said the brunette bending to look through a microscope at a blood sample."

"See anything unusual?" asked Stanlee Dempsey.

"No, this is just cow blood," said the brunette. She picked up a pen and wrote "cow blood" on the label of the small plastic tube.

"This, on the other hand, is not," said Jerry Green, and the others went across to look through his microscope.

"What is it?" asked Colin.

"Damned if I know," said Totty Rampling. "But it sure ain't cow blood."

"It's some kind of blood though," said Jerry Green.

"But not from any kind of animal, that I've ever seen," said the brunette.

An hour later, they had finished checking the fifteen samples and had found four from the same unidentified animal.

Looking up, Totty said, "Maybe now it's time for me to hear Mr. McGinty's story."

"Okay," said Stanlee Dempsey, going on to tell her what the farmer claimed to have seen.

"A gigantic black, V-shaped flying creature, with no noticeable bodily appendages, other than its mouth," repeated the brunette. "Well, that makes as much sense as any theory that I could come up with at the moment."

"With metre-long teeth," said Colin Klein.

"Let me just repeat that the Melbourne Wildlife Safari Park has nothing on the outback for exotic animal life," said Totty. "Well, it looks like I'm going to have to find a place to stay. Since I won't be going back to Melbourne anytime soon."

"Mrs. Morton, my landlady has a couple of vacant rooms in her boarding house," said Colin Klein.

"Killer. Let's go get me booked in."



As they sat down to lunch at the boarding house, Totty said: "I'll have to send for some of my clothes from Melbourne, since I'll be staying awhile."

"I can lend you some things," said Miss Lipzing, a dowdy old spinster, wearing drab grey clothing.

"Um, thank you," said Totty, wondering how to get out of it without offending the old lady. "But I'm really not comfortable wearing other people's clothing. But thank you for the kind offer."

Colin Klein smiled and dropped Totty a cheeky wink.



A few kilometres outside East Merridale Dan Dobley tended his ripening crop of maize on his vegetable farm. Whereas the rest of the world now used the American Indian term corn, Dan had always used the original name maize, and always would until the day that he died.

"A fine crop of maize we got this year, Mother," he said, although his wife Eileen had passed away from breast cancer three years ago. "Yes, reckon we'll do pretty good this year. Pay off most of our debts I reckon."

He started pulling up some weeds growing amongst the maize when suddenly the sky darkened over him.

"That's odd," he said, "ain't supposed to be any rain in this area today." Dan prided himself on checking the local weather report over the internet before starting work each morning.

He looked up and saw only a massive black spot overhead. Shaped like a gigantic V. Like no rain cloud that he had ever seen in all of his decades of farming.

"That's strange, Mother," he said, startled when the black cloud suddenly swooped down and he realise that it was some kind of gigantic creature.

"Holy shit," he cried, running as best as he could on arthritic legs back to the imagined safety of his grey deal wood farmhouse.

Screeching loud enough to almost deafen Dan Dobley, and silence the wildlife for kilometres around, the Verdillac swooped down and sailed across the maize patch, devouring corn and stalks alike. For the next ten minutes, it swept back and forth across the crop, devouring a million ears of corn, plus the fortune that Dan Dobley had expected to make at the market that year.

"There's nothing left," said the old man crying, as he watched the creature zoom away after devouring his entire year's crop.



Totty had rung her sister in Melbourne to arrange for some clothing to be sent by the midnight train from Melbourne. So now she and Colin Klein were sitting on the sofa talking to Mrs. Morton.

"That was a wonderful meal, Mrs. M, very filling," she said.

"Yes, well, like Mr. Klein, you need building up, young lady, you're all skin and bones," said Mrs. Morton.

"Actually, I think she has a lovely figure," said Colin, blushing almost as deeply as the brunette did.

"Why, thank you," said Totty.

Staring at them, the old lady said: "Don't you two just make a lovely couple."

Not knowing what to say, Totty looked round at Colin Klein, who said: "Uh-oh, in the country, you have to watch out for matchmakers."

"Well, I'm just saying," said Mrs. Morton, picking up a feather duster, to start cleaning the furniture.

Blushing again the couple were relieved when a knocking came on the front door.

"I'll get it," cried Colin and Totty together, racing each other to the front door.

Opening the door, they saw Stanlee Dempsey waiting.

"Please tell me, you need us to go with you," said the brunette.

"It's happened again," said Stanlee. "This time at Dan Dobley's corn farm. Devoured the lot, stalks and all."



At the farm, there wasn't much to examine. All of the corn was gone, plus the stalks, down to a dozen centimetres from the ground.

"Lord, it picked you dry," said Totty.

"Yes," said Dan, almost crying. "An' I was hoping to pay off my farm debt with this year's bumper crop."

"Oh, I'm so sorry," said the brunette. "Can you tell us exactly what you saw?"

"It was an enormous V-shaped creature, like one giant black wing. Didn't seem to have any legs or talons. Just a massive mouth with sword-length teeth."

They looked at each other, and then Stanlee said, "That gels with what Henry McGinty told us."

"McGinty's been hit too?" asked Dan.

"Yes, yesterday evening," said Colin Klein. "But we convinced him to keep it out of the papers, for fear of UFOlaloonies swarming across his property."

"Yes, of course," said Dobley, finally starting to cry, to the embarrassment of Colin, Stanlee, and Totty, who did her inadequate best to try to comfort the old man.



"Well, that was a waste of time," said Stanlee, "you didn't even get any samples to test."

"No," agreed Totty, "you have to feel sorry for Dan Dobley, losing the crops that were going to get him out of debt. At least Henry McGinty and Donald Frazer still had plenty of crops left."

"Yes," said Colin Klein.

"This thing, whatever it is, seems to be an omnivore, it seems it will eat anything," said Totty.

"Yeah," agreed Stanlee, "trees, cows, corn. The only thing it hasn't eaten yet are people."

Totty shuddered and said: "Don't even suggest it." None of them realising just how prophetic the policeman's words would turn out to be.



Tea was another enormous meal at Mrs. Morton's: fried rice, Dim Sims - both steamed and fried ones -, roast lamb, and vegetables, topped by pancakes and homemade apple-and-plum jam.

Afterward, both feeling bloated, Colin and Totty retired to the lounge room to read, then watch some TV.

By 10:00 PM Mrs. Moron had gone to bed; an hour later Colin Klein and the brunette did the same thing.



The next morning they got up at 7:00, had an enormous breakfast, then set out to collect Totty's things from the 9:00 AM train from Melbourne.



Colin Klein and Totty Rampling arrived at the station half an hour early, having fled Mrs. Morton's latest matchmaking attempts and had to wait amongst fifty or so other people on the platform. So, naturally, the train was forty-five minutes late.

"As punctual as ever," joked Colin.

"I can't believe that the trains are as bad in the countryside as they are in Melbourne," said Totty.

"Out here," said the station master sounding offended, "the problem is animals and fallen trees on the tracks. They have to keep stopping to clear the tracks."

Whispering to Colin Klein, Totty said, "I did notice that we did a lot of stopping and starting on yesterday's train."

Finally, the train arrived, and eighty or so people disembarked, then the station master began to unload the parcels in the baggage car, including two suitcases for Totty.

"Thank goodness," she said, allowing Colin this time to carry her bags for her.

He started to reply when a hellish shrieking rang out from overhead.

"What the heck," said the station master looking up. As did Colin, Totty, and a hundred and thirty other people.

"What the Hell is that?" said an old man as he saw the gigantic, black V-shaped figure of the Verdillac swooping down toward the railway station.

"Run for it," shouted Colin. And a hundred plus squealing people raced out of the station. But as the creature shrieked again and swooped, the station master, Colin, and Totty ducked into the small waiting room hoping to escape the notice of the monster.

"Oh, my God," they were right, said Totty Rampling. Unable to believe her eyes as the monster ignored the three people in the waiting room and instead swooped towards the squealing people running down Yorke Street.

Effortlessly it swooped onto the people in the car park first, eating two cars, along with a dozen people. Then, without landing, it zoomed away again, after those fleeing on foot. A handful managed to escape, but ninety or more people were consumed by the monster, along with three cats and a Great Dane.

Then, clearly satisfied, the monster shrieked again, then zoomed up higher, before spinning around then taking off at a speed that would rival most jets.

"What ... what the Hell was that?" asked the station master having to sit down on the wooden slatted bench, for fear of passing out.

"We don't know," said Totty, "but it attacked three farms yesterday, eating crops and livestock. But this is the first time that we've known it to eat people."

"Along with two cars," said Colin Klein. "It's got one hell of a digestive system," he added, with no hint of humour.

"It's a pity we didn't get any photos of it," said the brunette.

"Who says we didn't?" asked Colin, holding up his mobile camera. "Wait until Stanlee Dempsey sees these."

"You two working with Stanlee?" asked the station master.

"On this case, yes," said the redheaded reporter.

"Fine lad, Stanlee," said the old man, "known him since he was a small boy. Anyway, I'd better go ring for ambulances in case there's any survivors."

"And I'd better go check on the corpses," said Totty, "to see if I can get some saliva samples from that thing."



Outside the station, dozens of people had run out on the streets to see if they could help. Many of them stopping, too shocked at the bloody massacre that they found to be able to do anything.

Hearing one woman hacking, Totty said, "Don't throw up on the evidence." Standing, she quickly led the woman over to a brick fence and had her throw up on her neighbour's beloved begonias over the fence.

"Hatty Jakes, how dare you," cried the neighbour woman, a blue-rinsed old biddy. Then seeing the mess out in the street: "Oh, my God," she turned to race inside to throw up into the toilet.

They had quickly sent the few survivors, some missing limbs, to the Glen Hartwell, and Daley Community Hospital, then started the lengthy process of shipping the few bodies and many body parts to Jerry Green at the morgue.

"Well that's it apart from washing away the blood," said Stanlee Dempsey, to Colin and Totty. Holding up a piece of chalk, he said: "Normally we put an "X" under the approximate place where the body was. But with so many body parts, that would be redundant."

To Totty, Colin asked, "Did you get what you were hoping for?"

"Yes," she said, holding up a glass vial. Then to Stanlee, "I've got some of that monster's saliva."

"Then it is...?" asked the policeman.

Colin Klein took out his mobile phone and showed Dempsey the photos of the creature.

"Shit in a hand basket. Mr. Klein, you're a better photographer than most journalists I've ever met!" said Stanlee.

"I had an interesting, if terrifying subject."

As the rain started to fall, cleaning the streets Stanlee raced for his Range Rover; Totty, and Colin for Colin's rental.

"You know we'll never keep it out of the news now," Totty called across to Stanlee. And as she had predicted, by the end of the day Merridale and East Merridale were crawling with journalists from all five of Australia's main television networks, plus many newspapers, some interstate, and a dozen or more radio stations. Even podcast news programs had sent reporters to the country area.



Half an hour later Totty and Jerry Green were examining the saliva specimen under microscopes."

"Well?" asked Stanlee.

"Well, I can definitely confirm it is animal saliva," said Totty, "but that's about it."

"I can't even confirm that," said Jerry, "since I'm not a wildlife biologist. I can only state for certain that it's not human saliva."

"So, we're back where we started," said Stanlee.

"Except that we know now that Henry McGinty and Dan Dobley were correct in their descriptions of what took their cows and corn," pointed out Colin.



The next morning, Colin And Totty were still trying to digest Mrs. Morton's latest wonderful, but gigantic breakfast, when they heard a knocking on the front door.

Colin opened the front door, and Stanlee Dempsey stepped inside, saying, "Sorry."

"For what?" asked Totty.

Dempsey thumbed back to the door, through which they saw a dozen news vans and fifty or sixty journalists and camera crew standing around. Including the gorgeous platinum blonde, Lisa Nowland, whom Colin had seen before at LePage a couple of weeks back.

"Hey, I know you, don't I!" cried Lisa, seeing Colin through the open door.

"Possibly Lisa," said Colin, realising that he had made a mistake.

"Of course I do, you were in LePage a fortnight back, during that Tar Baby business," she said.

"Possibly," he said, closing the door.



I never forget a face, thought Lisa, as Colin Klein closed the door again.

To her cameraman, Davo, she said, "Go around to the back of the house, in case they try to sneak out that way."

Hearing her, half of the journalists, including four of the news vans took off for the rear of the property to wait.



"Where are they going?" asked Totty watching through a slit in the curtains.

"They're cutting us off at the pass," teased Colin.

"What?"

"They're going around the back, in case we try sneaking out that away."

"Oh," said the brunette.

"Sorry for leading them here," apologised Stanlee. "I just had to get away from that tiny police house. With those parasites there, it was becoming claustrophobic." Passing around three newspapers, he said, it seems you weren't the only one to photograph that thing. Some of the people safe inside their houses filmed it through their windows."

"Mysterious Monster Wreaks Havoc," read Colin Klein, noticing Lisa Nowland's by-line on the story, which described the massacre in gory detail. "She doesn't pull her punches, does she?"

"I thought Lisa Nowland was a TV journalist?" said Totty.

"She must freelance to the highest bidder as well," said Stanlee Dempsey. "One of the other rags has her story, almost word for word the same, in it."

He opened it up and started to read aloud as Colin Klein read the same article from the paper he held.

"Nothing like being paid twice for the same set of work," said the brunette.

"Yes, nice work, if you can get it," said Colin. To the policeman, he asked, "Besides escaping a certain platinum blonde man-eater was there any other reason that you came to see us?"

"Yeah, that beast has struck again."

"What!" cried Totty and Colin together.

"Relax," said Stanlee. "No one was hurt this time. It struck at a shunting yard at Willamby. Completely reduced to tinder two six-carriage trains, and ate one of the steam engines."

"Now that's what I call roughage," said Colin Klein.

"You two want to go for a ride out to Willamby to check it out?"

"Not me," said Totty. "I want to check out this thing on the internet. Fortunately, I thought to bring my computer tablet with me from Melbourne."

"I'll go with you," said Colin.

"Well, you're not as pretty as Totty," said Stanlee making them both laugh. "But you'll be better than no company at all."

So saying, he led Colin Klein outside, toward the waiting media circus.

"Mr. Klein." called Lisa Nowland, having remembered his name, "can I talk to you for a moment."

"Sorry," he called back to her, "but I'm a journalist too, so I have to keep any exclusive knowledge for my own paper."

Stunned, she stood back just long enough for the two men to make a break for Stanlee Dempsey's blue Range Rover.

Tapping on the window on Colin's side, Lisa said, "I could be very nice to you if we shared your information." So saying she leant forward to allow her firm, full breasts to almost fall out of her dress.

"Sorry," said Colin, pointing to where Totty was watching them through the window, "but I've already got a girlfriend."

As Lisa looked around, the two men drove off.

"But wait..." she began before running across to her news van. Jumping in, she said, "Get us moving." Then, seeing that the driver's side was empty, she said, "Shit!" remembering that she had sent Davo around to watch the rear of the boarding house. Sliding across, she used the spare set of keys to start the van, then took off after the two men.

Followed, as she saw to her dismay, by three other news vans, plus a dozen cars.

"Shit!" she said again.



Inside Mrs. Morton's boarding house, Totty Rampling sat on the yellow sofa, balancing the tablet on her knees while browsing around the net, seemingly for hours, with no sign of finding anything about the V-shaped monster. Just when she was ready to quit for lunch, she found a listing for, "Verdillac a Native American Legend."

Below a realistic drawing of what Totty had seen at the railway station, the article described in great detail the legend of the Verdillac. Even pointing out that it had been mentioned in a song by the Doors, on one of their post-Jim Morrison albums. Also, some obscure writer in Australia had written two different poems about the Verdillac, going into a lot more detail than the Doors had done. The Doors mainly used it as the only word that they could find to rhyme with Cadillac.

At first, she thought that the article was not going to mention how to stop or kill the Verdillac. Then she found where it went into detail about the magic potions needed and the ritual dance, both needing to be used by an American Indian shaman to kill the Verdillac.

I wonder if there are any American Indian shamans in Australia? thought Totty, finding herself doubting it.



At Willamby, Colin Klein, Stanlee Dempsey, Lisa Nowland, and thirty other reporters were looking at, and photographing, the devastation of the two trains at the Siding in Oxford Street.

"Wow," said Colin, "when that thing gets the munchies, it really cleans its plate."

That's a great line, thought Lisa, writing it down to use in her story.

"Well, we've seen all we can," said Stanlee, "we might as well lead the Jackals back to Merridale.

As they drove off, Lisa hurried back to her van and started after them. But other journalists stayed taking pictures of the devastated trains, some going live to Melbourne for special reports.



Back at Mrs. Morton's boarding house, Totty said: "I've got good news and bad news. The good news is that I now know what it is, a Verdillac. The bad news is that we need an American Indian shamam to mix a magic potion, with chanting and dancing, to be able to kill it."

Looking at Stanlee, Colin asked, "I don't suppose there's one of those native dance troops touring Australia at the moment?"

"Yes," he said, "but it's a Maori troop from New Zealand, so I don't think they'll have an American Indian shaman with them.

"What about using a military plane to nuke it?" he suggested.

"No good," said Totty that thing is at least half a dozen times as big as an SR-71."

"And flies three times as fast," said Colin Klein. "Besides, if it could eat a steam engine, it'd probably fly down an SR-71 and scoff that too."

"Then, all we can do is ring through to Russell Street, Melbourne, and ask them to get us an American Indian shaman," said Stanlee, starting to understand why Leslie Harrison, chief of police in LePage had recently taken early retirement, after what they had all come to think of as, "One of Colin Klein's Monster Cases."



After Stanlee spent an hour talking to the Chief of Police in Melbourne, he hung up, looking a little ashen-faced.

"Well?" asked Totty.

"Well, at first I thought he was gonna have me locked up, or suggest I take medical leave at the psychiatric ward of the Glen Hartwell Hospital.

"But due to the news reports, some showing mobile footage of the Verdillac in flight, he finally agreed to try to track down an Indian Shaman for us." He hesitated for a moment, then added, "But first the air force is sending in an SR-71 to attempt to stop it. No nukes, but high-powered missiles, exploding bullets, bombs ..."

"None of which will stop it, will they?" asked Colin Klein.

"I seriously doubt it," said Totty Rampling.



It would be five days before the shaman was located and sent to Merridale. During that time there were three more attacks by the Verdillac:

The first on a farmhouse, where it ate most of the barn, including the prize-winning bull, two heifers, and three sheep.

The Second, was upon a used car lot, at which it ate six cars, two salespeople, plus four would-be customers. Two of whom had already paid their deposit, but did not live to get their cars.

The third was against the SR-71 at a vegetable farm outside East Merridale. For Once Stanlee Dempsey, Totty Rampling, and Colin Klein had managed to get there while the Verdillac was still eating: Fourteen apple trees plus over a thousand apples, about eight hundred carrots, plus the earth that they were growing in, plus hundreds of cabbages, and three rabbits that had burrowed into the cabbage patch.

"Wow, it sure can eat," said Totty.

"And it got plenty of roughage again with all of those cabbages," pointed out Colin.

While they were watching from the hoped-for safety of the farmhouse, they heard the roar of jet engines as the black-bird, SR-71, suddenly appeared from nowhere and targeted the Verdillac. It launched a dozen missiles, which detonated against the Verdillac, making it roar, more in anger than pain. Then thousands of rounds of explosive bullets were fired at the creature. Which didn't roar this time. As though it couldn't even feel their impact.

Then as the SR-71 zoomed upward to drop its bombs on the monster, the Verdillac launched itself at the plane and rammed it from underneath.

Totty screamed, as the plane started to break apart. The pilot hit the ejector button and he whooshed out of the cockpit, leaving his damaged plane behind.

The Verdillac also left the plane to fall to earth, to soar after the pilot, to swallow the pilot, ejector seat, and parachute together.

"Jesus," said Colin Klein as the Verdillac, satisfied at last, zoomed away, leaving the stricken fighter plane to crash into a paddock on the farm. "Thank God, it wasn't carrying nukes."

Totty started crying and Colin took her into her arms to comfort her.



Two days later the Indian shaman arrived at the Merridale police station, by helicopter, and the journalists scattered from the spinning blades.

"At last we know how to scare off the Jackals," said Colin Klein.

"Sadly, they'll be back soon," said Stanlee Dempsey as they all went out to greet the shaman and take him into the one-room police station in Patrick Street.

"Hi," he said, "I'm Joe Lightfeather."

They quickly filled him in on what had happened in The Dale, including the disaster with the SR-71.

"Yes," said Joe, who other than being darker than them, looked pretty much like the other two men, dressed in a smart suit. But with his brown hair cut into a military-style crew-cut. "I have been following the story on podcast news programs."

"We think we've got everything that you'll need," said Totty. She explained to him about the article about the Verdillac which she had found on the internet.

He carefully checked the supplies they had got, then said: "Excellent, this is everything that I need."

Joe Lightfeather changed into native attire, complete with a feathered headdress, then using a large cooking pot from Mrs. Morton's kitchen, he began mixing the ingredients one at a time, chanting and dancing around the small desk.



Out at Henry McGinty's cattle station, the Verdillac had returned and was terrifying the Jersey cows again.

"Get away from my cows, you monster!" cried Henry shooting both barrels of his ancient shotgun at the monster.

The buckshot missed the creature, which was out of range, and the Verdillac, ignored the farmer, as it swooped down to snatch up and swallow whole a dozen of the jersey cows.

"You bastard!" shouted Henry.



The shaman suddenly stopped and told them, "This is the most delicate part of the ritual, I must have absolute silence so that I don't make any mistakes."

Totty, Colin, and Stanlee sat on the floor in a corner of the police station as Joe Lightfeather started up again.



"Leave me some of them," pleaded Henry, as the Verdillac scooped up another eight of his precious cows, despite them now running around the paddock in a panic, and swallowed them down in a greedy gulp.

Turning, the Verdillac seemed to grin evilly as it started down again. Then suddenly it started to shriek in agony, frightening the cattle, which charged the wooden fence around the paddock and broke out.

Just in time, as the Verdillac gave one final shriek, then flipped over onto its back and crashed to the bloody paddock, its innards starting to spew out of its gaping mouth.

"What the...?" asked Henry, as the creature's belly suddenly exploded outward unleashing a mountain of half-dissolved cattle, plus most of its own vital organs.

"Looking at the sky," Henry McGinty said, "Thank you, Lord."



Finishing his ritual, the shaman said, "Now we can only wait to see if the ritual has worked."

Ten minutes later, they received a phone call from Henry McGinty, telling them what had happened.



"It's a complete mystery,' said Henry as they all stood round, looking at the shattered corpse of the Verdillac.

"Not at all," said Colin Klein, telling him what the Joe Lightfeather had done.

"Thank you, thank you," said Henry, grabbing the shaman and hugging him.

"That's all right," said Joe, looking ambarrassed, extraditing himself with difficulty from the farmer.

"If there's anything that I can do for you?" said Henry.

"Just don't tell the media circus that it was me," said Joe Lightfeather, "I don't need the jackals of the press following me."

"You've got my word," said Henry shaking hands with the shaman, then Totty, Stanlee, and Colin Klein in that order.

"Well, I'd better be getting back to America," said the Shaman.

"And I'd better be getting back to Melbourne," said Totty Rampling.

"Mrs. Morton will be disappointed," said Colin. "She was already planning our wedding details."

"And I'd better be getting back to the police station," said Stanlee Dempsey. "What about you, Mr. Klein?"

"I'll be staying on at Mrs. Morton's for a few more days," he said. "Then I'll be heading off to neighbouring Lenoak."

"Uh-oh," teased Stanlee, "I'd better ring Terri Scott, the police sergeant there. She needs to know that danger and monsters are coming her way."

"How dare you," said Colin Klein. "I do sometimes manage to stop places without monsters following me." As the others stared at him in obvious disbelief, he added: "Well .. occasionally."

They all laughed as they headed back toward the two cars.

"I'll arrange to have that thing taken from your farm," Stanlee shouted back toward Henry.

"Much appreciated," called back Henry McGinty.

THE END

© Copyright 2023
Philip Roberts, Melbourne, Australia