by Jadyn Chase
Wyatt’s Secret
Smokey Mountain Dragons
Jadyn Chase
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Copyright © 2019 by Jadyn Chase
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
Contents
1. Piper
2. Wyatt
3. Piper
4. Wyatt
5. Piper
6. Wyatt
7. Piper
8. Wyatt
9. Piper
10. Piper
11. Wyatt
12. Wyatt
13. Piper
14. Wyatt
Epilogue
More from Jadyn
1
Piper
I stepped on the iron stake to drive it into the soft forest soil. A bird squawked over my head, and I peered around the canopy. Daylight blinked through the branches. The elusive Smoky Mountain Flying Fox wouldn’t show itself until long after sunset, so I had a few more hours to set up my equipment.
I balanced a motion-activated camera on the stake and powered up the battery. I flipped open my tablet and checked the video feed before moving on to the next site. I set up cameras all over the area and aimed their lenses at the sky.
I returned to my campsite to wait for nightfall. I sat cross-legged on my sleeping bag and heated a cup of coffee on my camp stove. I might be calm now, but once dark settled over the countryside, I would be a bundle of nerves. Better to get some relaxation time in now.
I leaned back against the tree to sip my coffee and jot down notes in my notebook. After studying the rare bat back at the Wildlife Sanctuary, I couldn’t go any further without recording their nocturnal habits in the wild. My supervisor, Jack Fulton, and I already demonstrated that life in the Sanctuary altered their behavior until it became unrecognizable.
For one thing, the bats didn’t flock the same way in the Sanctuary. They either didn’t have enough space to fly freely, or we didn’t have the numbers to encourage full, natural flocking behavior. If I could prove that by recording them in the wild, maybe we could get more funding to expand the Sanctuary and increase our captive breeding program.
I scribbled notes with a ballpoint pen. I always dictated my notes in the lab but talking just didn’t fit with fieldwork. I didn’t like to disturb the natural forests sounds with a human voice.
I flipped open my tablet. All the cameras still showed the same patch of sky above the Appalachian wilderness. As soon as the sun went down, the bats would come out and I would be in the money.
I closed my eyes and let myself doze. I better catch up on sleep now if I hoped to stay awake later. The bird noises and squirrel chatterings blended into a smooth, dreamy haze. I floated away to my comfortable life in Charlotte, North Carolina. I got hired straight out of college to study the bats because no one else specialized in them.
The Smoky Mountain Flying Fox used to live in massive swarms all over the southern Appalachian range. When their population started to dwindle due to pesticides in their insect prey, the Wildlife Sanctuary took one of the last flocks in North Carolina into a captive breeding program.
Since then, all the wild Flying Foxes in North Carolina died out. This population in northern Georgia represented the last wild flock in the world. If we didn’t stop the decline now, they would become extinct within a decade.
I munched a Snickers bar while the sun slipped behind the trees. My heart skipped a beat. Here came the night. I still didn’t move. The sky was still too light.
After another hour of mindless waiting, a cool wind blew through the woods. I pulled on my down jacket and grabbed my tablet and my phone. It was time. I snuck to where my cameras protruded from the soil.
Enough light still showed the surrounding trees and bushes. I found a dense clump of foliage and hid inside where I could command a view of the sky above my target zone. After trekking around these mountains for a week, I located the holes where the bats nested by day. They would swarm out into this area as soon as night fell.
I switched my phone and tablet to night vision mode. The camera feeds all showed up green. My pulse fluttered in my neck. This was really happening. I was really about to record the bats’ nocturnal behavior for the first time.
I held my breath and listened. I switched apps on my phone to a sound detector that picked up supersonic signals. The feed registered off the charts. I scanned the phone back and forth, and the squiggly line jumped to the highest possible setting. The bats were all over the place. Their calls came from every direction, even though I couldn’t hear anything.
My hand shook holding the phone. Just then, my tablet screen blinked. I almost dropped my phone in my hurry to pick up the tablet. I stared at the screen, hardly daring to believe my eyes.
All the camera feeds activated at once. Clouds and clouds of bats erupted out of nowhere into the sky above my head. They swirled and dove and undulated in enormous flocks. The cameras recorded the bats swooping and tumbling over each other hunting in great masses.
I dared not blink in case I missed anything. The phone recorded their noises in endless spikes of chirps and pops and burps. Wave upon wave of white dots washed over the canopy in front of the cameras. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I did it! I recorded them! I was the first biologist to film them flocking in the wild.
All at once, all the white signals on the camera collapsed toward the ground. The bats dropped en masse into the trees. I stared at the screen as a huge black shape crossed in front of the camera and disappeared. I caught a glimpse of two broad black wings and a long coiling neck.
It passed by and left the sky dark and devoid of bats. The woods fell silent for what seemed ages. Then, out of nowhere, all the bats swarmed into the air again. They rolled and surfed on the cool night air as though nothing had happened.
I gaped at my screen. What was that thing? I didn’t recognize it and now it was long gone. The bats paid no further attention to whatever it was. In a second, I pushed it out of my mind. I was here to record the bats, not anything else in this forest.
I waited in the bushes for more than two hours. I got some incredible footage—more than enough to make my point back in North Carolina. I hesitated to leave my hiding place in case I disturbed the bats, but they were all several hundred feet above my head. They probably couldn’t even see me.
I couldn’t see a single bat with my naked eye. I couldn’t hear them, either, but I knew they were there. They hunted and flew and communicated with each other in a world beyond human senses.
I put my phone and my tablet away and headed back to my campsite. With any luck, I might get some sleep tonight after all. I put my hand into my pocket for my flashlight. I took it out and moved my thumb to the button when, out of nowhere, something gargantuan reared up in front of me.
It rose higher and higher until its black outline blocked out the night sky. I caught a brief glimpse of the same winged shape with the long neck. It swelled to an impossible size in front of my eyes before it took off into the night.
My hand froze on the flashlight. I didn’t even think to turn it on to get a better look at the thing until after it was already long gone.
What was that thing? I spent m
y life studying bats. I recognized wings and winged bodies, but this resembled nothing I ever saw before in my life. It dwarfed the whole forest, and it didn’t launch until it rose taller than the tallest trees. The wingspan alone overshadowed any flying creature I knew of.
I froze in place until it took off over my head. I started walking back to my campsite in stupefied shock when I heard rustling behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to see a black streak coming at me out of the dark.
It whizzed over my head with its giant wings outstretched. I ducked and screamed against my will, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from the thing. Two glowing red eyes shone out of nothing to glare at me.
I shrieked even louder and staggered forward. I tried to run and tripped over my own feet. I sprawled onto the ground and dropped my equipment, but I didn’t think of that. I scrambled up and broke into a run.
That thing—whatever it was—angled low and swooped directly over my head. Its wings made a leathery husking sound in the night air. It fluttered against my hair and vanished into the woods.
I slapped at my hair to get it off me, but it was no longer there. I bolted all the way back to my campsite. I jumped into my sleeping bag for protection—any protection I could get from that thing. I huddled there in an agony of suspense but I never saw the thing again. It never returned.
I lay awake all night long staring at nothing for any glimpse of that thing. My sleeping bag offered little comfort. I didn’t even have a tent.
When the sun rose, my eyes stuck together from lack of sleep, but I couldn’t lower my vigilance for a second. Whatever that thing was, it did NOT belong in any Appalachian forest.
I crawled out of my sleeping bag and retraced my footsteps to the spot where I dropped my equipment. I retrieved my phone and my tablet, and I checked all my cameras. They were all still operational. I left them where they were and turned my steps toward the road.
2
Wyatt
I pushed open the door to the Watering Hole and saw the usual collection of barflies hanging around the tables. I approached the bar and got a pitcher of Budweiser from Larry, the owner.
I leaned one elbow on the bar while I surveyed the usual Saturday night fauna populating the tavern. A bunch of highway marking guys played pool in one corner. The construction team from the new house going up in Norton played blackjack at another table. They laughed and talked over their drinks, and their chips clinked when they placed their bets.
My eye drifted to the next table along. Four people played poker and conversed in low tones so I couldn’t make out what they were saying. Big Bill Hanson acted as dealer. Aiden Hodges sat on his left, and Willie Cochran occupied the place to Bill’s right.
The fourth person sat with their back to me. A long braid of straight, chocolate brown hair trailed down a back clothed in a plaid shirt. No one could mistake that back for a male. What was she doing in here? Women hardly ever came into the Watering Hole, and they never played poker.
Big Bill thumbed out cards to everyone. When the female took hers, I got a view of her slender arm and fingers. She held the cards with expert care. She tossed back three and kept two. Bill dealt the extras to everyone and then they started betting.
Aiden and Willie eyed the woman, but I still couldn’t see her face. I sidled around to one side to get a better view of her. I came to a stop a few feet away and stared.
Willie pushed a stack of chips into the center. “A hundred says you’re full of it, young lady.”
The woman cracked a grin. Her hair came loose from the braid and drifted around deep-set brown eyes that sparkled at her companions. “You’re the one bluffing, Willie. A hundred and fifty.”
Aiden smacked his lips. “That’s too rich for me.” He tossed his cards on the pile of chips.
Big Bill sucked his tongue behind his teeth. “A hundred and fifty-five.”
Willie scrutinized the woman, but I couldn’t stop staring at her. Where did she come from? Who was she? I never laid eyes on her before, so she couldn’t be from around here.
Willie slapped his hand against the table. “I still say you’re blowing smoke, Missy. Two hundred.”
The woman only smirked at him pushing more chips into the center. “Two hundred and forty.”
Bill threw his cards away. “I’m out.”
Willie fidgeted in his seat. He kept stealing sidelong glances at the woman, but she obviously made him nervous. I studied her, but I couldn’t figure out if she was bluffing or just incredibly good at unnerving her male opponents. She held her cards with casual disinterest. She barely looked at them or at the mounting stack of chips in front of her.
Beads of sweat sprang out on Willie’s forehead. He rubbed his thumb across one eyebrow before he caught himself and stopped, but she already saw. She bestowed an angelic smile on him. She had him right where she wanted him.
“Go on, Willie,” she crooned. “Call it and find out for certain if I’m blowing smoke.”
Willie checked his shrinking pile of chips. All of a sudden, he flung his cards away from him. “Aw, forget it. I’m through.”
She flipped her hand around to reveal a worthless collection of cards, none of which matched anything else. “You should have stuck it out, Willie. You would have won.”
She scooped the chips toward her and set about stacking them into neat piles. Aiden pushed back his chair. “You cleaned me out. I’m going home while I still have my dignity intact.”
Bill gathered up the cards and started shuffling. “I still have a hundred dollars to lose. I’ll best you one of these hands.”
“Bring it on.” She took a sip from a glass of whiskey at her elbow. Then she looked up and saw me watching her. “Do you want to play?”
The blood rushed to my cheeks and I lowered my eyes. “I don’t have any money to spend or I would.”
She waved to her chips. “You can have some of mine. I’ll stake you.”
“I couldn’t do that,” I told her. “You won that money fair and square. I couldn’t take it.”
“It’s not my money,” she countered. “I won it off these guys. Come on and sit down. I’m not ready to quit yet, and we need another player.”
She divided her chips into two piles and pushed half of them toward Aiden’s empty chair. I blinked at her for a second longer. What was a woman as stunningly beautiful as her doing in a podunk little place like Norton? A halo of heavenly light surrounded her. It mesmerized everyone in the bar. No wonder she skinned these guys for every penny they had.
I found myself migrating toward the table. “All right. I’ll play.”
Willie sliced his forefinger through the air. “You better watch yourself, cousin. She’s deadly.”
I couldn’t stop grinning at her. I stuck out my hand. “I’m Wyatt Kelly. Where did you say you were from?”
She shook my hand. “I’m Piper Wilson. I’m from Charlotte, North Carolina. I’m a biologist. I’m over here studying a rare species of bat that’s native to these mountains. Maybe you’ve heard of it. It’s called the Smoky Mountain Flying Fox.”
I nodded. “I know all about it. Now pay attention to your cards because I intend to take every penny you just earned.”
Bill dealt and we all anted up. Piper cocked her head to examine me. “Not many people know about the Flying Fox, not even people who come from here. You’re the first person I’ve met who knows about it.”
“Maybe that’s because I take a special interest in the wildlife around these mountains.” I took another three cards from Bill.
Willie bet forty dollars. Piper arched an eyebrow at me. “Sixty. Have you ever seen the Flying Fox yourself?”
“I’ve seen it a few times.” I tossed a few chips into the center. “A hundred.”
Bill dealt the next round. Willie folded. “I’m gone.” He got up and left.
Piper slid a stack of chips into the pile. “Two hundred.”
I checked my cards for the tenth time. Either she was bluffing or she had on
e hell of a hand. The problem was no one could tell from looking at her. She batted her long eyelashes with such school-girl innocence I found it difficult to believe she could ever lie.
I just saw her bluff out Willie, though, so I had to watch my step. I found myself wanting more than anything to trust her, to believe that she was actually as sweet and genuine as she appeared.
Her plaid shirt revealed her shapely torso leading down to tight jeans hugging her hips. She wore brown leather hiking boots and a leather belt. She looked like your garden variety country girl, but man! She could sure play poker.
What the hell, right? They weren’t my chips. I slid a tower of my own markers next to hers. “Two-fifty.”
“I fold.” Bill threw his cards away. “You two are devils. You play with each other. I’m out.”
He pushed back his chair and walked away. Piper’s eyes slid back to me. “Lightweights.”
I had to laugh. “Let me guess. You go around the bars and taverns of the southern US skinning every man you find. That story you told me about the bat was just a cover for your real operation. Admit it.”
She burst out laughing in return. “If that was the case, I wouldn’t spend so much of my time trying to get additional funding to save the bats. Three hundred.”
I did a quick mental calculation on the chips I had left. They weren’t mine, so I didn’t care so much if I lost them all. I just didn’t want to lose to her. That’s what really bothered me. I wanted to show her up as the bluffing liar she really was.
I pushed the last of my chips forward. “I call. Three hundred it is.”
