I think we killed a cryptid

 I looked into the beaten up comby. Full of brooms and brushes, cleaning agents and cloths.
No leash in there. And my dog had taken off into the valley.
I climbed the cobblestone road that cut through the forest. The low repetition of cicadas and humidity emitting of the old weathered stone.
I hunched down into a crouch and whistled.

Tap tap tap tippidy tap...
My little dog was trotting back to me. Yes trotting, not like a dog would run, but somewhere between horse or pig.

My heart lightens by a few grams and my smile curves aligning with the arc of the cobble stone road through the forest valley. Life´s ups and downs and ups again.

I heard a screeching sound coming from inside the van. I pulled my little dog over to the gutter. The jarring screech now took on a metallic scraping. The handbrake had given in to the pressure of the incline, slowly grinding then slipping out. 

The dog barked a single emphatic utterance as if to warn the forest. The Comby van began to move in silence, the only audible noise was the sound of the tyre tread starting to crawl over those marvellous cobblestones.
The dog's eyes and mine were glued as the thing took off down into the dip of the valley. I observed my dog´s face I could swear he was grinning, holding back the equivalent to fits of laughter.

My eyes went back to the van as it climbed the other side of the cobblestone valley road. Brooms and plastic bottles fell out the back, it was like the items were abandoning ship.
The rusted back door swung violently on it's axis and my dog gave another singular bark.
The van had run so straight down intot he dip and up the other side one would speculate someone had got into the van and commandeered it.

I looked down at my dog again. "I bet it runs back down perfectly toward us. Maybe we can drive it out of here." My dog shook it's head. My eyes opened wide. Dogs can't shake their head, better yet dogs don't disagree. I wanted to focus on him, But I wanted to see if my prediction came true. 

The van came sliding back down backwards, at first perfectly straight back in our direction. 
But before it got to the dip in the valley it veered off to it's left, looking on to it- our right. And over the gutter rolling top speed into the brush. By instinct My dog and I ran to observe it's descent into the forest.

A few meters into the forest the van hit an embedded rock, catapaulting it. we looked to where the van would land. The van was airborn crashing through branches upward. Something was moving in the space that the van would most certainly crash land. It was a tall figure, thin. Extremely aggressive looking. 

The flying comby smashed a trunk, tore vines and came down heavily on the figure.
We heard the crack of the comby hitting and squashing whatever it was below it.
Then a blood curdling gutteral scream went out, as loud a civil defence siren.
I looked down at me my dog who was transfixed by the event.
I spoke to my dog, in a matter of fact tone. "Well mister Ribbons, looks like we killed a Cryptid!"