Bull Mountain

Holly dug into his pants pocket, pulled out a silver flip phone, and handed it to Clayton. “Here,” he said. “Hit send after you dial.”
Clayton took the phone and smirked at Holly. “The hillbilly sheriff knows how to work a cell phone.”

Hal looked rested and content as the burning man’s screams became something else. Something unnatural. Clayton would never forget that sound. He wondered if Hal could even hear it at all, or if all he heard were the hornets.