by Lisa Stowe
“So the reality, son, is we’re on our own.” Ben gestured at the helicopter. “And that’s just for show.”
“It’s for reassurance,” the man said, frustration leaking into his voice. “We’re doing all we can.”
“Then I guess that means you’ll leave us one of those big guns you got there.” Ramon gestured at the chopper.
“Look,” the man said. “I understand. Believe me. But right now-”
“Right now, you’re fucking useless.” Spike turned to Lucy and Nathaniel. “We’re on our own, just like before these assholes showed up.”
“You’re right.” Anger flickered in Ethan. “They’re useless and not going to help. And they’re too late. If they’d come sooner, maybe some of us would still be alive.”
Max cupped the man’s elbow in his hand and turned him toward the helicopter. The co-pilot started forward, but Max waved a hand at her. “Back off, hero. I’m just escorting your boss back where he came from.”
“But don’t you want to know-” the man began.
“No,” Max interrupted. “What we want is for someone competent to come back for our injured. What we want are those food and medical supplies you mentioned. Plus dry and clean clothes. Temporary shelters. And big guns. We’ve already killed some of these monsters.”
“You’ve killed some?” the pilot asked in surprise. “How?”
“Well, not with the help of the military,” Max said. “So until you can bring us what we need, you’re no use to us. Go back where you came from. In the meantime we’ll take care of things on our own.”
“Well…okay then.” The man gave Max a small salute. “You’ve managed better than most. You’re going to make it. Everything is going to be fine. The government is involved now and resources will soon be coming in.”
“And we’ll be here,” Max said.
The man gave Max a hearty slap on the back, making Max wince, and then followed the two in uniform back to the helicopter.
“Useless piece of shit,” Spike said when they were out of earshot.
“But the ones that come next won’t be,” Max said. “The next wave will be people who can actually put boots on the ground and help.”
“We just have to hang on until they get here.” Casey watched the rotors of the helicopter pick up speed. “Guess we better start building Fort Curtis.”
~Day 13~
1
Ethan zipped the last pocket on Curtis’s backpack and shouldered it. The pack was heavy with supplies from Ben’s truck. It wasn’t as sturdy as his old pack, but it had belonged to Curtis and Ethan couldn’t leave it behind. In the bottom of the pack was a coffee can with ashes.
“You sure you’re okay with this?” he asked Spike. “Taking on the responsibility of this crowd? Michael can be an asshole. And Max says he thinks they can try Jennifer for manslaughter once the military comes back. Which means you have to keep an eye on her, make sure she doesn’t take off. And-”
“For fuck’s sake,” Spike said, laughing. “We’ve been over this already. Get the fuck out of here. They’ve already left and you’re going to have to catch up.”
Ethan walked to the top of the railroad tracks before turning back to where Spike stood a few feet away. It tore something inside him to leave his kids. But overlaying that responsibility was the deep, deep chasm of grief. He wasn’t sleeping at night. He wasn’t eating.
Anya told him he needed solitude.
Anya told him he needed to bury Curtis’s ashes under a yew tree.
Anya wouldn’t let him sink into the black hole in his soul.
So he talked to Spike. Asked him to make his little family of Nathaniel and Lucy bigger. To include all the students.
“Hey, Spike,” Ethan said. “Couldn’t have done all this without you.”
Spike lifted a hand. “And we wouldn’t be alive if you hadn’t been with us. You’re okay. For a fucking teacher.”
Ethan managed to smile.
Then headed for the solitude of the forest.
2
Anya and Ramon climbed the trail to the top of the Wall. They went slowly, at Bird’s pace. When they reached the top they paused under the ruined power lines and gave the healing dog a long drink from a water bottle.
“You sure you won’t stay?” Ramon asked.
“I’m sure,” Anya said. “I need to be home.”
Ramon looked out into the forest, where a few birds tentatively sang. “I want to find Alegria. But Marie is here and I can’t leave her, either.”
“I’ll watch for your niece. I’ll make sure they know to stay out of sight for those who will come to kill monsters.”
“And I’ll keep them safe if they come this way,” Ramon said. “But I don’t like you going out there alone.”
Anya pointed back down the path where Ethan climbed steadily in their direction wearing a loaded backpack. The wounds on his face were healing but still raw. And the sorrow in his dark eyes was just as raw.
“Don’t worry,” Anya said. “I won’t be alone.”
Acknowledgements and Monsters
As always, fiction allows you to get away with things. While the locations mentioned in this story actually exist, those familiar with the mountains will know that it takes longer than a couple days to bushwhack Jumpoff Ridge to Index. And finding old logging roads to solve the problem of downed bridges over the North Fork Skykomish River is also a bit harder than it sounds here.
The town of Index is a wonderful, unique place full of friends. They may think they recognize themselves here, but they will be wrong. As any writer knows, bits and pieces of many people come together to create characters. So hey, friends, you’re just seeing bits of yourselves. With the exception of Rob, kayaker extraordinaire. And with the exception of Mark and Sandy and the Espresso Chalet where Bigfoot lives. Stop by sometime and try a Lift Ticket. I dare you.
The Hole in the Wall is closed up now, and I’d like to thank Keith Curtis for allowing me to interview him about his Fifth Force experiments. I have taken his words and tossed in some artistic license because, unfortunately, he never mentioned parallel universes…the gravity experiments and radon gas though, are real.
And heartfelt thanks to the friends who offered honest advice. Susan for your editing and keeping me on task, Jenni, for always loving everything I write, no matter how rough. And Art and Sabrina. Silver Creek and Jumpoff Ridge owe their presence to you. I will always remember the two of you sitting side by side, laughing as you both made sure I knew how impossible it was to bushwhack to Index from Barclay Lake. The story was worth spending three years writing to see Sabrina laugh. Your river spirit will always be with you and we love you.
Art of course, gets to be mentioned again, because there would be no stories without him.
For the purposes of this story, I tried to stay close to mythical creatures of the Pacific Northwest and the cultural heritage of the characters. With that in mind, the following creatures made appearances.
Amarok
A giant wolf in the folkore of the Inuit people. Also similar to the Black Dog or Fairy Dogs of Celtic mythology. And also similar to the giant wolf Fenris of Norse mythology. All are giant dog-like animals that are either the guardians of the places they haunt, are killers of those they stalk, or herald the end of the world.
The Grizzly Bear
Common in legends of the Pacific Northwest, these bears renew the world. They are both ancestors and way-showers. They are teachers, guardians, and healers.
Sisiutl
A myth from the Coastal tribes of British Columbia. A two-headed monster with forked tongues that seeks truth. But if it finds fear it will send you spiraling and the corkscrew spinning will cause you to leave earth and wander as a lost soul forever.
Cailleac Bhuer or Stone Woman
An old woman with a walking stick and carrion crow on her left shoulder. She can be either dangerous or, if treated with respect, a guide. In some myths she dwells in a land of winter. In some, her
staff is buried under a tree and retrieved after Samhain to bring forth the spring. In Scotland she is known as the Blue Hag, who walks the highlands at night. Some see her as the crone goddess. Variations of the Stone Woman can be found in many cultures. Because she walks the Pacific Northwest in these pages, I have chosen to give her a raven.
Shadow people
More of a ghost story than a myth, these are humanoid forms made completely of featureless shadow. Some say these are other-dimensional beings with their realms occasionally intersecting with ours. Some see them as travelers, scouts, or invaders. They commonly are seen as a sign that evil comes.
Wendigo or Windigo
A creature of North America, most commonly seen as a man-like cannibal that keeps its victims alive while it slowly eats them. Sometimes described as looking similar to Bigfoot. Sometimes described as a tall, thin, man-like shape with talons and antlers.
Wood nymphs, dryads, and naiads
Spirits that live within trees. Combined in this story with spirits of yew trees, which, in pagan beliefs symbolize psychic awareness, spirits, and the death passage. I keep hoping these will show up when I walk in the woods.
Matlose
Matlose is a famous hob-goblin of the Nootkas. He is covered with black bristles and has teeth and claws like a bear.
A wonderful resource for every mythical creature imaginable is The Element Encyclopedia of Magical Creatures by John and Caitlin Matthews.
Play List
Writing comes easiest with music to help drown out the outside world. Each story seems to end up with its own individual play list. So if you’re interested, here are some of the songs that helped create the mood of this story.
If you like the partial list, the complete playlist can be found on Spotify, under ‘This Deep Panic Playlist’.
A Deep Slow Panic – AFI
On the Nature of Daylight – Max Richter
Fehu – Wardruna
Wolf Totem – The Hu
Rún – SKÁLD
Winterwolf – BrunuhVille
Cantus – Connie Dover
Light From Darkness – City Of The Fallen
Across the Snow – Tartalo Music
The Willow Maid – Erutan
Trøllabundin – Eivør
I Don’t Believe – Chrom
Throw Off the Bowlines – James Paget
The King of the Highlands – Antti Martikainen
Other books by this author:
The Memory Keeper
Sparrow's Silence
Ghost Roads (a prequel)
Sunshine On My Shoulders
The above books are part of the Wallace, Idaho Mystery Series.
www.lisastowe.com
www.thestoryriver.com
