CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
When we finally made it out of the forest, we weren’t at all surprised to end up in completely unfamiliar territory. Not that we knew the area or anything, but we were even higher than where we had camped. Traces of snow coated the trees just north of us and the landscape was full of moss and loose shale. A steep mountainside bled onto our new path and we had to navigate over boulders and rocky outcrops as we made our way across.
Dex thought he had the map figured out, so we followed that best we could. We could always hear the roar of the river we had seen yesterday, but so far it never made an appearance. We just pressed on, him ahead of me, our backpacks straining, feet aching, only stopping to rest and eat something. We were running low on water too, another reason why we hoped to come across the river again.
Even though Dex told me to forget about the show, every time we had a break, I took out the camera and filmed our surroundings. It might have been fatalistic on my part, but in case something ever did happen to us, I wanted people to know what happened and where it happened. Plus, as I told Dex, it wouldn’t hurt to have footage of the places we had been, in case we did a complete circle by accident.
“So what do you think, kiddo?” he asked as he passed me a packet of trail mix. We were sitting on a boulder near where a patch of trees flanked the rocky slope. The sun never came out from behind the clouds but I could tell by the weak light that it was around noon.
“You tell me,” I said wryly.
“I can’t. I told you it doesn’t work like that.”
“Too bad.”
“How do you think we’ll get out of this one?”
I took the map out of his jacket pocket and peered at it. Landmarks were drawn, directions were given, but none of them made any sense to someone who didn’t know the area.
“We’ll get out of it.” I wasn’t lying. We had to get out of it. Aside from my cheekbone, which was luckily only lightly bruised, and my abs which burned from where Mitch’s foot was, we were in good shape. We had food and sooner or later we’d find water. We had space blankets and extra clothes. The cabin was less than a day’s walk away, if only we could figure out what direction to go.
To be honest, I just didn’t want to think about the severity of the situation. I needed to stay focused and be positive, otherwise I’d start dwelling on the fact that with each passing second we didn’t come across the path we took, it looked more and more likely that we would end up spending the night outdoors and without any shelter.
Dex chewed and nodded at the forest. “I’m thinking we might not be making it back before dark. Maybe we oughta prepare for that. Do you remember your survival skills from grade school?”
“Could you hear me thinking that?”
“No,” he said, dusting the crumbs off his hands. “We’re just on the same level more than you think.”
I sighed. I really, really, really did not want to think about preparing for this. To prepare was to give up and I wasn’t done yet. We could still do it. It was still early.
“What about Christina’s map?” Dex asked.
Oh yeah. F*cking forgot about that.
I fished it out of my inner pocket. It looked almost like her dad’s but instead of just being drawn freehand, it looked like Christina had actually taken the time to trace an authentic map. It was a lot more legible and legitimate.
The two of us spent the next five minutes comparing the maps to each other and then to our landscape. Our faces were side by side and I fought the ridiculous notion I had of kissing his cheek, just to taste him, to feel his stubble on my lips. Ever since he’d saved me from Mitch, I was having these weird flashes of tenderness for him. Then I’d remember the whole “I can hear your thoughts” thing and I’d retreat, feeling flustered and hot.
There was also the “you’re lost in the mountains so none of your feelings are important or appropriate” thing too.
“Hold on a minute,” Dex said suddenly. He snatched up the map and got to his feet, his eyes darting from the page to the mountain that loomed yards ahead of us. He then looked at the fringe of forest and tilted the map accordingly.
“I think we have something here,” he announced, sounding cautiously optimistic.
I joined him at his side, peering over his arm excitedly. “What, what?”
He pointed at the map where a squiggly line marked “river” snaked around to the right. To the left of it was an X marked in the trees and even further left was an area dotted with circles, marked “boulder field.”
“This,” he said, waving his arm in front of us, “is the boulder field. Erratic leftovers in the moraine. You know, the glacier, when it retreated back.”
I followed his eyes. It was true. We had been resting on one boulder but when you really looked around, we were surrounded by them.
“And those hollows in the bedrock, the way they disappear into the trees over there, those are the corrie glaciers she’s marked.”
“Wow, you paid attention in geography.”
“I had to in order to sleep with the teacher.”
I snorted with disgust. “You were a pig back in high school too?”
“Hey, geography may have just saved our lives!”
I rolled my eyes. “So now what?”
“Now we walk up there,” he pointed at the map past the X, “and we find that damn river. Get some water. Then we follow it down to here and that’s where this, the path, meets it. Then it’s smooth sailing, kiddo.”
I couldn’t help but grin. His face returned it. And we stared at each other in one of those slow-motion movie moments where the two actors keep smiling until things get awkward.
Without wanting to waste a single second, we quickly dropped our gaze and proceeded to shove the trail mix in the backpack. I wanted to keep filming now that I knew we were going to be OK, so Dex picked up both the guns and led the way toward the fringing forest, like some bad-ass Rambo. And speaking of ass, it was looking good.
We figured we couldn’t get lost if we stuck to the edge of the mountain, where the boulders and loose rock ran into the forest. All we had to do was follow that edge for a bit – distance was a bit hard to figure out – and we’d eventually meet the river.
Because the slope was hard to get footing on, we walked in the forest at the edge, so there was enough light. The glacial thingies that Dex had pointed out meant there were a lot of caves and hollows in the rock face and some of them jutted out into the forest. We navigated around them carefully, taking our time but wasting it all the same. The caves were dank and smelly and water dripped off the moss that hung to the outer rims. I wasn’t sure if they were caves that actually led into the rock face or they were just shallow engravings made by an old glacier but they were creepy enough to make me want to move further into the forest so we didn’t have to walk around them so closely. But Dex pointed out that the further we strayed from the mountainside, the more likely we would get lost again.
I swallowed my fears and kept on, cringing every time I had to lean my hand on a slimy rock or I caught a glance of a fathomless entrance into the mountains, spiderwebs floating in the archway. I thanked my lucky stars we looked at Christina’s map because knowing our lackluster survival skills, one of those gross caves would have ended up being our shelter for the night.
That said, her map was still a bit confusing. For example, the area we were walking in was labeled with an X while every other point of interest on the map had a few words about it. There was the area where Rigby found the footprint, a place she’d seen the sliced up deer, the section near the cabin where she was attacked. But the X was just an X. It usually marked the spot, but what spot?
“Hey Dex?” I began to say when I ran right up into his back. He’d stopped in front of me.
I looked up and saw the reason why. We had wandered into a cliff-face that cut us off our chosen path completely. It shot out into the forest in a ragged line of rock that disappeared into the trees.
“That’s convenient,” I said, adjusting the straps on my backpack with my free hand. It was feeling heavier by the minute and a pool of itchy sweat had gathered under the edge of my hat.
“Guess we have to go around it,” he said and started picking his way through the brush, following the long, stony trail of the outcrop. We got to where it tapered off into the woods, then rounded the corner. The rocks trailed back again so it looked like we were back on track until a few minutes of pushing through the underbrush.
That’s when we came across another jut of rock. It cut through the middle of our path just like the one before, only it stretched out longer, its ridge soaring high above our heads with no signs of stopping. You couldn’t even see where it stopped into the trees. >
“F*ck,” he muttered under his breath.
“Yeah,” I said slowly. “It’s probably the wrong time to bring this up, but I was just noticing on the map the giant X that’s drawn where we are. And, uh, I have no idea what it means.”
“Uh huh,” he said absently, scanning the rock face before us and the way it stretched into the mountain side, disappearing into another fathomless cavern.
“So what do you think it means?”
“I don’t know, isn’t there a legend or something?”
I looked down at the map. It was harder to read now that we were covered by the tall trees and the mountainside had blocked out the hazy sunlight, but from what I could see she hadn’t provided any kind of legend.
“I don’t think so.”
I flipped it over in my hands. Lo and behold, on the back, at the bottom corner of the page in light pencil were a few sentences. The first one said Sorry if it’s not clear, I didn’t have much time. You’ll want to explore all the spots I’ve noted if you want to get a glimpse of the creature for your show. I’ve marked the caves where I think the creature lives with a big X.
Oh. F*ck.
“Uh…” I started, my mouth flapping uselessly.
Dex sighed. “I suppose we’ll just have to go around this motherf*cking thing now.”
“Uhhhhh,” I tried again. “Oh shit. Dex. Shit.”
He finally brought his attention to me, folding his arms across his chest. “What is it?”
I wiggled the paper in the air. “Shit, f*ck, shit.”
“Oh really?”
I thrust the map into his hands and jabbed my finger at the writing at the back.
He looked it over and sucked in his breath.
“Ah, just your regular old Sasquatch breeding caves. Maybe we should try and get out of here?”
“You think?” I whispered harshly.
The smug look on his face vanished. He gave me a quick nod.
“You all right with running for a while?”
“Oh I can run,” I told him, getting a better grip on the camera. There was no room in the pack for it so I had to make sure to hold on tight. Then I remembered my plan and quickly pushed the SD card out. Dex watched, perplexed, as I brought the tiny baggie and card holder out of my jean pocket and stuck the card in them. Then I shoved the bag and card into my inner pocket.
“What the?” he asked, a brow cocked to the heavens.
“You think I’m going to lose all my footage if things go wrong?” I asked.
“Clever girl,” he remarked with a wry smile. Then he nodded toward the dark forest and we took off running along the edge of the intruding cliff face.
We ran along it for a few minutes, him just ahead of me, both of us traversing mossy outcrops and sliding boulders. The occasional tree would scoop down toward us with open branches and we had to duck under those as well, my hair and clothing getting caught and torn as we went.
I was starting to wonder just how long this rocky arm would go for when Dex suddenly drew to a stop. He held his arm out, blocking me from running past him, and took the safety off the shotgun.
I swallowed hard, my lungs wheezing, my heart racing up to speed.
“What is it?” I croaked. I looked around us but only saw the same old trees and dim light.
He didn’t say anything but motioned for me to be quiet.
I clamped my mouth shut, trying to control my breathing. I couldn’t hear anything except my heartbeat and that in itself was overpowering.
Then it came through. That low, bass-like growl. Inhuman and otherworldly.
Supernatural.
As soon as I realized it was coming straight ahead of us, I heard another sound. A high-pitched snort like something sniffing the air excitedly. It was followed by something even worse: the sound of branches breaking. Whatever it was, it was running and running toward us.
Dex took the safety off the rifle and thrust it into my hand, then we both ran back the way we had come. We were heading toward the cave again but we didn’t have much of an option. We crashed through the underbrush, stumbling over logs, sliding over rocks until we came across a very thick row of bushes that hugged the side of the bedrock.
He slid to a stop and reached out for me to stop, careful not to set off the guns. There was the rockface beside us, the caves in front of us, the beast somewhere behind us and another arm of rock across from us. We were as good as cornered.
Dex climbed deep into the brush and I followed. It was like crawling into a thicket, nothing but harsh branches and leaves blocking your way. When I was little I remember trying to make a fort out of a bramble bush in our yard. Even armed with clippers, I still wasn’t able to do it. Now I was forcing my way, ignoring the pain as my body bent the branches, and made it work for me.
Once we were both fully merged in the bush, protrusions poking every inch of us, I followed Dex’s lead and lowered myself until I was lying flat on the ground. The guns were to the sides of us, and I kept one hand on my rifle just in case. I was pretty confident that if something walked past the bush, they wouldn’t see any sign of us. We couldn’t see much ourselves except for the ground right in front of us and only about half a foot off of that. Branches and leaves blocked the rest.
Dex’s hand moved over until it was on top of mine, the camera safely tucked between us. He squeezed my hand and I could only see the shine of his eyes glinting in the darkness. He was trying to tell me not to worry, not to panic. But my heart and lungs weren’t having any of that. I was trying not to make a sound while breathing, yet my chest gasped for oxygen and my heart was racing a mile a minute, my pulse threatening to leap out of my veins. I prayed that no matter what these creatures were, that they weren’t vampires. I’d be totally f*cked.
We waited like that, our breaths quiet and controlled as possible, feeling hidden yet immeasurably vulnerable at the same time. We waited, wondering, until we heard a branch break a few feet away from us.
Dex’s grip on my hand tightened and I squeezed back just as hard. Both our eyes stayed focused straight ahead, the anticipation feeling as loud as our heart rates.
Another snap. Then a scraping sound.
Right before my eyes, right in front of the bush, I saw a foot step into view.
It was unlike any foot I’d ever seen and I struggled even trying to explain it. It looked like the leg of a small kangaroo, if anything. The foot was covered with dense brown fur, matted and rough. There were three or four toes with sharp black claws at the front of the foot and it was the ball of this that touched down first. The second part touched down seconds later, not really part of the foot at all but looking like it if you were to only examine the print. That deep narrow mark we thought was a heel was in fact the hock of the animal, briefly touching the ground.
My mouth was filling with saliva I couldn’t swallow in case it made a sound. I had never been so still, so silent, so f*cking frightened, in my entire life. Dex and I were lying in a bush, just inches away from some unknown creature that was slowly walking past us. Even with guns by our sides, I had never felt so damn unsafe and ripe for the picking.
I waited for that creature to stop its trek, to just sit back on those hocks and perhaps sniff the air around it. I couldn’t see any other part of it and as curious as I was, I was pretty sure that was a good thing. I could only imagine the human like fingers and black claws on its hands, the way that Rigby had described. No, this was no hoax. This was the real deal and with every second that passed, it was a wonder that we weren’t dead.
But, somehow, the creature kept walking. It walked until it was well out of our line of sight.
I finally had the courage to rip my eyes away and look over at Dex. He was watching me carefully, maybe gauging how well I was holding it together.
I stared at him, then closed my eyes and projected the thought, can you hear me?
After a few seconds I opened my eyes but he was still looking at me with a concerned expression. I shot him a weak smile to show him I was fine and decided to ignore the experiment. I knew the more pressing question was when we were going to make a run for it.
I never had to ponder that long.
Without warning, the camera in between us flashed red three times and let out an extremely loud beep.
God damn f*cking thing had been left on this entire time, despite no memory card. And now, it was running out of battery.
And it decided to let us know about it.
My eyes widened and the most God awful fear stuck its clammy hand into my heart and squeezed it until I couldn’t do anything but stare at the camera in a frozen panic. Terror had taken over and left nothing of me except a husk.
Thank God for Dex. What felt like ages to me was probably only a few seconds. At the beep, he looked at me in shock, the whites of his eyes shining. Then he burst forward out of the bush, grabbing me only by the collar of my coat. With his crazy strength he yanked me clear out of the brush, branches breaking with a sickening snap, leaves flying everywhere like confetti. The only thing I could do was hold onto the rifle with all my might as I was dragged a few feet out of the bushes.
Then by Dex’s help or some deep-honed instinct I found my feet. I found my footing. I found my strength. And I ran.
I ran like I’d never run before. There was no time for thoughts. No time to wonder if the creature had heard us or how far away it was. It was just one foot in front of the other, one boot leaping above a log, the other boot stretching over a rock. It was Dex and I side by side, leg going in front of leg, knees reaching up and down, arms pumping like cogs in a clock, the rifle never leaving my grasp.
We ran and ran and ran, past branches that scraped at my cheek, a pain I didn’t have time to feel. We ran until the rock face disappeared into the brush and the way became dark and crowded with trees, rough trunks that we both bounced off of but kept on going because to quit running meant to die.
And all this time we were both very aware of something on our trail. Something that growled and snapped and broke through the same obstacles that we had. We hadn’t slowed down and neither had it. It was coming, maybe just one, maybe many, but it was coming and if you listened hard enough past your own breathing you could hear its breathing, the proof that something alive was still out there, still chasing you.
In my fear-addled, adrenaline-fueled state of delirium, I was certain I could run forever, and if I died, it would be on my feet, legs extended, arms shielding my face against the next tree branch. I would die running and it was a better alternative than being decapitated and gutted by whatever was behind us. The thing I didn’t dare once look behind me to see.
I kept these thoughtless thoughts circling my brain, the shallowness of it all keeping me from totally losing it, from realizing what a hopeless situation we were in. It kept me from realizing something had to give.
I just didn’t know what until I noticed another roar fill my eardrums and the forest petered out into an open space of soggy late winter grass. The sun was out, the light was blinding and disconcerting, and after a few uncertain strides I realized that Dex was no longer beside me.
I slowed momentarily and took the chance to look behind me. Dex had fallen on the wet grass and was just getting to his feet, his face filled with panic and his eyes screamed at me to keep running.
I swallowed, my breath nowhere to be found, and convinced my legs to keep going again, faster this time, knowing that Dex would eventually catch up.
I ran and ran and ran through that brownish-green grass, through that open meadow, hearing that rush of water fill my ears like an overflowing symphony.
I ran until an extra step meant another form of death.
My feet skidded to a halt just as the meadow ended abruptly. I was a foot away from going over the edge of a cliff, a forty-foot drop down into the river that ran below it in a deep blue rush that sliced through the trees.
My hands went out to balance me from pitching forward and I quickly turned around to look back at Dex.
He was running toward me at full speed.
And behind him, yards away, was the beast.
It was sprinting with long skinny legs, a creature of thick brown hair, muscular arms and protruding claws that hung from the ends of its human-like hands. Its head was shaped like a small-watermelon, black lidless eyes and a razor-toothed mouth that resembled a cross between man and ape.
I opened my mouth to scream at its proximity to Dex. I opened my mouth to scream at its proximity to me.
And I opened my mouth to scream because I was standing on the edge of a cliff and Dex was not slowing down.
He wasn’t slowing down at all.
The next thing I saw was the determined look on Dex’s face as he came at me, his body jerking low at the last minute. He lunged at me in a tackle, propelling himself forward and wrapping his arms around me.
Together we flew off the edge of the cliff, the rifle flying out of my hand. For one empty moment it was just he and I in an embrace, weightless, effortless, floating in mid-air, a beast snapping viciously at us from a piece of land it refused to leave.
Then we were falling, Dex on top of me, and I saw the sky get farther and farther away as my back crashed down in to icy cold water.
My torso constricted as I gasped for breath. Then my body submerged and I felt nothing else.