“That’s number 54,” Marcus said as he tossed the last skull onto the pile they had made outside the cave’s mouth. “What in tarnation do you think did all this?”
Jason’s knuckles were white from the grip he clutched the .30-.06 he carried.
“You know exactly what did this,” Jason growled at him.
Marcus shook his head in disgust. “Come on kid, there ain’t no such thing as Bigfoot.”
“You can tow the official line all you want Marcus, it doesn’t change the truth. The evidence is right in front of you and you still refuse to see it,” Jason frowned. “If you’re about to tell me those tracks we followed up here belonged to a bear, you can forget it Marcus. I’m not some newbie you can con with that BS anymore.”
Marcus laughed. “You been a ranger for what, three years? You’d think you’d be used to this kind of crap by now.”
“This time you aren’t going to be able to bury it all Marcus and you know it. That guy’s dad is some big shot with big time money and resources. He isn’t going to let it rest until he finds out what really happened out here. No matter what story you marched down from these hills with, he isn’t gonna let it go.”
“You’d be surprised,” Marcus snorted. “This Mr. Hewes or whatever ain’t no different than any other hurting loved ones we’ve had to break the news to over the years.”
“You really have no idea who he is, do you?”
“This has got you really shaken up, hasn’t it?” Marcus asked with real concern in his voice. “I’ll admit it’s the worst I’ve ever seen too, kiddo, but what happens in the woods, stays in the woods.”
It was Jason’s turn to shake his head. “Not this time, Marcus. Believe me, not this time.”
“Fine,” Marcus huffed. “Tell me. What makes this Hewes guy so different from all the others?”
“You ever watch “‘Mysteries and Demons’”?”
“Can’t say that I have.”
“It’s his show Marcus. This guy makes a living and is famous for traveling the world in search of the occult and I quote, ‘beings that transcend the scope of normal man.’”
“And you think he’s going to go digging here, make this one of his shows?”
“Oh, given that those bones over there likely belong to his son Marcus, I would say we can count on it.”
“Holy crap,” Marcus muttered, then his voice returning to a normal tone he said, “What in the devil are we going to do? The last thing we need is for some idiot to come up here and stir things up. Things have been getting worse with those monsters as it is.”
Jason shrugged. “Maybe it’s time for the truth to really come out about what goes on up here.”
“The world ain’t ready for it, Jason,” Marcus stared at the pile of skulls and bones they had gathered up. “Heck, I ain’t ready for it and I know.”
“The sun’s starting to set,” Jason commented, sweeping the barrel of his rifle around at the trees. “Best we get moving. It’s a long hike down to the road.”
“I hear ya,” Marcus nodded. “Reckon we can leave these,” he gestured at the bones, “This thing’s gonna be ticked enough we went snooping even without carrying away its trophies. We can always head up again later if we need them.”
“Not me,” Jason said, “I’m done Marcus. I’ll be handing in my badge when we get back.”
“Believe it when I see it kiddo,” Marcus snickered.
Leaving the bones stacked outside the mouth of the cave behind them, Marcus led the way down towards the far distant road where their truck as well as the poor unlucky couple’s waited on them.
Steven Hewes sipped at the cold coffee inside the styli-foam cup he held. It tasted bitter on his tongue as his sip turned into a long gulp and he chugged what was left. He tossed the cup into the grass and looked around the base camp the Rangers searching for his son and daughter-in-law had set up. The search was over now. Their bodies had been found if not yet retrieved. The lead Ranger, Marcus, informed him that they must have gotten lost and wandered into the territory of a rogue bear. Marcus also assured him that he didn’t want to see their remains after they were recovered. Hewes was no fool. He could smell a “cover up” from a mile away. He had certainly swept enough things under the rug himself during his years as first a noted occultist and then a TV producer/host. The awkward and nervous air that filled the camp since the return of the two Rangers made him wonder just what they were trying to hide from him.
“Hey boss,” Hunter called out to him as he approached from the table where the lackluster breakfast of doughnuts and bitter coffee was set up. Hunter was a big man, standing nearly seven feet tall. His voice was deep and rang out beneath the roof of the wide, open tent like rumbling thunder.
Hewes had hired Hunter fresh out of the military. The man was a killer through and through. Hewes seldom traveled anywhere without Hunter at his side. He served both as Hewes’ head of security and muscle, doing the jobs Hewes didn’t want to soil his hands with doing himself.
“You got that look about you, sir,” Hunter commented, sauntering up to stand beside him.
“What look would that be?” Hewes feigned innocence.
“The one that usually leaves me with bloodied knuckles or worse,” Hunter said. When Hewes kept silent, Hunter continued. “I called Jeremy and the boys like you asked. They’re en route here as we speak. Couldn’t get a hold of Michael though. You know what it’s like with him.”
“Good,” Hewes half-smiled. “And don’t worry about Michael. He’ll show up on his own like always.”
Hewes licked his lips. “And the legal staff?”
“Done and done,” Hunter laughed. “They’ve already gotten everything set up for us to do pretty much whatever we want out here no matter what these Rangers say.” Hunter paused. “Been thinking. Woods like this aren’t really my scene and they’re certainly not Jeremy’s either. I don’t doubt the boys are ready for whatever we run into out there, but a little expert help might be nice.”
“Expert help?” Hewes asked, “We don’t even know what we’re dealing with yet.”
“True,” Hunter admitted, “but I know this guy. He’s as big in the crypto-scene as you are all the otherworldly magic stuff.”
“So you think we’re dealing with a Cryptid here?”
“Don’t know sir, but I have found it’s best to cover your bases on all fronts. This guy has done it all from Bigfoot to Mothman to swamp monsters. You ain’t gonna find anyone better than him to guide us out there if there is a Cryptid in play.”
“Fine,” Hewes turned his attention to Marcus again. The Ranger was getting a cup of coffee and trying hard not to be noticed as he kept an eye on them. “Call him. Pay him whatever he needs to make it worth his while.”
Hunter voice grew lower as he leaned into Hewes. “These Rangers aren’t going to like us heading out there.”
“You said legal had it covered,” Hewes reminded him. “If they resort to other means of trying to stop us, well, I am sure you and the boys can handle them.”
Hunter nodded. “Everyone should be here by tonight and the gear we’ll need, even earlier.”
Finally Marcus dropped the pretense of not noticing them as he chewed on a stale doughnut and headed toward them with crumbs in the graying beard that covered his chin.
“Mr. Hewes,” Marcus started.
“What do you want?” Hewes cut him off.
“I couldn’t help but notice what appears to be happening here. You’re thinking of heading up into those hills, aren’t you?”
“Not that it’s any of your business but yes, I am.”
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that, sir,” Marcus said firmly.
Hewes’ expression was cold and untroubled. “You’ll find we have the necessary permits and documents to supersede your authority here, Ranger. If you don’t believe me, check with the staff at your office. They were sent over in the last few hours. As thus, I don’t see as how there’s much you can do to stop us.”
/> “Oh, you can bet I will check, Mr. Hewes. You’re making a mistake,” Marcus warned. “Bad things happen in this life. We all lose people we care about. You don’t need to do this. Wandering around those hills hunting for the bear that did it isn’t going to fix things.”
“When I want your opinion, Ranger, I’ll ask for it. In the meantime, you and yours can either help us or get the hell out of our way. Do I make myself clear?”
“Crystal,” Marcus replied through gritted teeth. Marcus turned to his handful of rangers and the townsfolk who had came out to help with the search. “Pack it up! We’re heading out!”
His decision made, Marcus faced Hewes again. “You really have no idea what you’re headed into up there.”
Hewes laughed, loud and long. “Whatever is waiting for us ranger, I’m sure we’ve dealt with worse before.”
“I wouldn’t count on that if I were you, sir,” Marcus said getting in the last word before he joined the others, packing up and heading toward where the vehicles were parked.
Hunter opened the passenger side door of the black van, helping Jeremy out of it. The rest of the boys were already fanned out around the vehicle, guns in hand. Jeremy blew his nose into a handful of tissues and then discarded them, before a coughing fit wracked his body, nearly causing him to bend over.
His eyes met Hunter’s. “What the devil are you and Hewes thinking calling me of all people in on this one? You know I’m a ‘behind the scene’ kind of a guy.”
Hunter couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Jeremy’s puffy, watering eyes. “You’re our tech guy, Jeremy, and even if there isn’t going to be anything for you hack your way into out here, Hewes wants you on hand. We’ve had some high tech crap delivered that he wants to you oversee the handling of.”
“Joe’s the cameraman, not me, and I assume that’s the sort of crap you’re referring to.”
“We ain’t shooting an episode Jeremy. This is personal. Hewes’ son…”
“Went and got himself torn apart,” Jeremy finished. “Yeah, I know.”
Jeremy fished his inhaler from the pocket of his jacket and took a hit from it. He stuffed it back into the pocket and promptly lit up a smoke.
Hunter was laughing again. “You’re supposed to be a genius, ya know?”
“I am,” Jeremy answered, “So what?”
“Do you really think that’s gonna help you?” Hunter pointed at the cigarette Jeremy was puffing away on.
“They help me focus,” Jeremy said defensively.
“And they’re killing you, too, buddy,” Hunter plucked the smoke from Jeremy’s hand, flicking it to the dirt, where he ground it out with his boot.
“Hey!” Jeremy whined. “What the…?”
“Just go look over the gear,” Hunter told him. “When you see it, you’ll understand why you’re here.”
Jeremy gave Hunter an evil glare and then, pouting, walked off to do what he was told.
“Axel! Go with him and make sure he doesn’t get lost between here and there!” Hunter ordered of the lean, tattooed man leaning up against the van’s driver side door.
“Sure,” Axel grinned, his too white teeth gleaming in the sunlight. “Whatever you say, man.”
That left Charles and Cassidy at the van with Hunter. They made up the rest of the boys. Charles was an ex-Special Ops. trooper like himself and Cassidy, well, Hunter found it best not to dwell on Cassidy’s line of employment before Hewes had snapped up the man, adding him to their little outfits of soldiers, killers, and freaks.
“Can’t help but notice the level of firepower Hewes had brought in for this one,” Charles commented. “Demons again?”
“We should be so lucky,” Hunter sighed. “Truth is, we ain’t got a clue what’s up there.” Hunter nodded his head towards the distant hills.
“Got a good guess though already,” Cassidy giggled. He raised his hands in what Hunter assumed was supposed to be a scary, grabbing gesture. “It’s Bigfoot.”
“That would make sense,” Charles agreed. “This area is a hotbed for sightings of those things.”
By late afternoon, the rangers and those with them were completely cleared out, leaving Hewes and his group alone at the bottom of the hills. All the gear had been distributed and everyone was ready to roll out. The only thing stopping them was Michael’s absence; so far the group’s resident psychic/mystic was a no show.
“How much longer we gonna wait on that weirdo?” Jeremy asked to no one in particular as they all stood around, backpacks on their shoulders and gun in their hands. Only Hewes’ hands were empty. He carried no weapon other than the revolver holstered on his hip.
“We’ll wait as long as need be, Mr. Hickman,” Hewes snarled at Jeremy.
Jeremy shut up, his face going even paler than it normally was, knowing it was never a good idea to anger the man who not only cut the checks but could have you castrated on a whim.
A lone figure, dressed entirely in black, emerged from the trees. The man’s skin was as pale as Jeremy’s but without the sickly hue that haunted the tech expert. His green eyes were as intense and sharp as ever as he strolled up to where the others waited.
“Mr. Hewes,” he said with a slight nod of his head in greeting.
“Michael,” Hewes nodded back. “So glad you could finally join us.”
Michael gave no explanation as to his tardiness, diving straight into business. “There is indeed something out of balance in those hills. Whatever it is, it seems to be waiting on us.”
“Can you tell what is, Michael?” Hewes asked. “Is it another Shoggoth like the one we dispatched outside Dunwich?”
“No,” Michael answered in a voice so low it was almost a whisper. “It’s powerful though and very, very hungry.”
The sound of Cassidy pumping a round into the chamber of his shotgun drew everyone’s attention. “Good,” he smiled. “That’s just how I like them.”
“Control yourself, Mr. Cassidy,” Hewes warned. “Let us discover what we are up against before we decide just how easy it will be to deal with.”
“If it is Bigfoot,” Charles smiled, “this should be a walk in the park.”
“One of the best advantages you can give your foe, Mr. Fonsworth, is to underestimate him,” Hewes reminded not just him, but all present. “May I suggest we all keep that in mind? Now, Jeremy, are you set up and good to go?”
“Yes sir, Mr. Hewes. Martha and Donald are at your disposal.”
“You named the drones?” Hunter whispered, nudging the sickly little geek next to him.
Jeremy didn’t bother to respond.
“Launch them then and let’s get moving,” Hewes ordered. “Nightfall is almost upon us.”
Jeremy shrugged the AK-47 he carried onto his shoulder by its strap and pulled his tablet from where it was affixed to his belt. Stabbing a button, he announced, “Martha and Donald, taking flight.”
Behind where the group of men stood, the large, metal launcher on top of the black van spat the two drones upwards into the sky. Orange flames burned from the drones’ engines, streaking away from the men, heading out over and above the trees of the forest.
Jeremy’s attention was glued to the pad in hand, monitoring the data feedback from the drones. The sickly, little tech was in his element now regardless of his actual surroundings.
“Mr. Hickman,” Hewes said as he and the others began their trek into the woods.
“All systems are green, Mr. Hewes,” Jeremy answered happily.
“Have the drones do a quick sweep over our target destination and then return to accompany us for deployment as needed, and Mr. Hunter, if you would be so kind as to keep an eye on Mr. Hickman as we move.”
Hunter grunted, his expression clearly suggesting his skills could be better utilized on point, but he didn’t argue. Someone certainly needed to help the tech along or he’d never keep up with the rest of the group.
Jason stood nervously in front of Stansberry’s desk. Marcus stood next to him. Stans
berry took a long drag from the cigar stuck between his thick fingers, blowing smoke at them.
“So let me get this straight,” Stansberry growled. “You fellows screwed up big time and now some TV producer idiot is headed up into those hills with God-knows-who with him? I expect better from you, Marcus.” The burly man shifted to Jason. “And you, kid, you’re picking right now to tell me you want out?”
“Yes sir,” Jason nodded. “I’ve had enough. My whole life, I wanted to be a ranger but what we do up here…Well, it ain’t right.”
Stansberry got to his feet. “Kid, you don’t know the first thing about wrong and right when it comes to these here hills. You ain’t going anywhere until all this mess is dealt with, do I make myself clear?”
“You can’t keep me, sir. The choice is mine and I’ve made it,” Jason’s tone was firm.
Marcus sighed. “Okay kid, have it your way.”
Before Jason could even realized what was happening, much less react, Marcus whirled on him. Marcus’ fist plunged into Jason’s stomach, causing him to double over from the pain. In that moment, Marcus grabbed him, ramming him back into the wall behind them. Jason’s body crunched against it as Marcus held him pressed tightly to the wall, one arm underneath his neck, forcing his head back, the other drawing the hunting knife Marcus always carried from its sheath on his belt. Its tip stabbed through the cloth of Jason’s uniform to prick the skin of his gut.
“You made a bad choice here, kid,” Marcus said as he shoved the knife on into Jason. Jason screamed, slamming his fists into Marcus’ shoulders and sides, trying to break free even as Marcus twisted the blade rapidly back and forth inside him. His work done, Marcus retreated from Jason’s attacks, letting the young ranger slump to the floor.
Stansberry was shaking his head. “You were right,” he gestured at Marcus. “He was never cut out for working in those hills. I should have listened to you.”
“You bas…” Jason started to rasp but his words were stopped by the blood flowing up and out of his mouth. Marcus stepped back close enough to him to deliver a quick kick with the tip of his boot to the underside of Jason’s chin. Jason flopped over and lay, unmoving, in a growing pool of red.
Sasquatch Lake Page 2
