Star decided on a course after taking an imprint from the sun then dove, gliding over the flat ocean like a flying fish. It traveled this way for miles before lighting down on a bamboo railing.
“Well, hello,” Laney said. She reached over, stroking the bird’s damp variegated feathers. She was reclining in a rattan chair, wearing a straw hat.
She could feel the sun’s heat on her legs. Looking up, she saw an elephant palm leaf had partially dislodged from the bamboo rafter above her head, allowing the sun to beat through. She stood, planting her feet firmly on the softly rolling raft. She stretched her hands up and pulled the leaf back in place.
“I would have done that.” Allen stepped across the balsa log flooring lashed together with hemp rope; his self-made vessel organically constructed by his ability to generate any plant life of his choosing. Even the sail on the single mast was made of woven fronds. He sat down in the high back rattan chair next to Laney to soak up some sun and get an energy boost.
Star flittered off the railing and perched on the top of Allen’s chair.
Laney looked up and smiled at the bird. “You better not poop on Allen’s head.”
“Like I’d really care.” Allen reached under the bamboo railing. He pulled up a string of kelp with a small sea bass trapped in the aquatic plant. He fused his forefinger and middle finger together on his right hand into the shape of a razor-sharp saw palmetto and filleted the fish. He cut it in small pieces and tightly wrapped each one in a roll of seaweed. He put them on a leaf platter, placing it on the wicker table between their chairs.
“Thank you, Allen.” Laney stared at the raw fish.
“What’s wrong? You love sushi.”
“I do. Just not for every meal.” Laney glanced up at Star pacing on the back of Allen’s chair.
“You would eat our pet?”
“No, Allen. I’d just like to change it up. Or have you forgotten since you no longer crave real food?”
“Sunlight and water; I’m a happy man.” Allen stared at the tiny blades of sedge shimmering in the sunlight, growing from his pores on his green arms and hands. “Jesus, Laney. What happens now?”
“It’s a big ocean. We’ll figure it out.” Laney picked up a sushi roll and popped it in her mouth.
Allen opened his hand, revealing a miniature magenta bouquet sprouting from his palm. “I love you, Laney.”
Laney leaned over and gave her husband a kiss. “And I will always love you, Allen Moss.”
37
PACIFIC NORTHWEST
THREE WEEKS LATER...
For the past five days, Jack and Miguel had been backpacking deeper and deeper into the conifer forest of towering Douglas-firs and western hemlocks; trekking into wilderness never before explored. Morning dew dripped from their slickers as they marched through the waist-high mist. Their boots crunched over hardpacked snow that had fallen the night before, vapor escaping their mouths in the frosty air with each labored breath.
“I need a minute,” Jack called out to Miguel a few feet ahead.
Miguel stopped and turned. “You can’t be tired. It’s only been an hour.”
“I got something in my boot.” Jack slipped off his backpack, dropping it on the ground. He sat down on a log. He untied the laces and slipped off his boot. Reaching inside he felt around. “Here it is.” He showed Miguel the culprit of his discomfort, a small pebble, and then tossed it into a clump of ferns.
Jack smoothed out his sock and put his boot back on. He got up, grabbed his backpack, and hoisted the straps over his shoulders.
They continued hiking between the massive trees on a migratory path flattened by deer and moose in search of food. The mountain air smelled of pine needles and humus soil. Up in the far away branches, eagles screeched, their high-pitched shrieks echoing in the dense forest.
The low-lying fog was beginning to thin out, the vaporous moisture now only ankle-deep. Miguel stopped when they came to a talus of boulders stretching forty feet up a rise to a hilltop of what seemed to be endless forest. He gazed down at a depression at the base of the rock partially concealed in the cloying mist.
Jack came up beside him and stared down at the dark hollow. “Could be a hibernation cave.”
“I’m going to check it out.” Miguel removed his backpack and leaned it against a tree. He took out his flashlight. He was about to start down when Jack asked, “Not taking your gun?”
“If I get in any trouble I’ll give you a holler.” Miguel had chosen not to wear his shoulder rig, as it was cumbersome and chafed his skin with the added pressure of the overlaying straps of his backpack. It was easier to stow and access his .357 Desert Eagle from an outer side pocket on his bag.
Jack had a similar problem; the wide waist belt on his backpack didn’t ride correctly on his hips because of his gun belt. As the weight of the pack wasn’t properly distributed, hauling the forty-pound pack began to put a strain on his back. His Colt was inside a pouch under his rolled up sleeping bag attached with a bungee cord.
Not having their guns at their fingertips hadn’t seemed necessary. The wildlife they encountered was either nervous deer or small frightened animals scampering in the bushes. The most threatening varmint they encountered had been a badger blocking the trail, but it eventually backed off and retreated into its burrow.
Miguel stepped down the slope, disappearing into the fog, his boots clomping on a granite floor as he entered the cave.
Jack slipped off his backpack, dumping the heavy bag on the ground. He rolled his shoulders to get the kinks out. Stretching his arms away from his sides, he caught his right sleeve on a ragged branch. Not wanting to tear his shirt, he gently pried the fabric from the limb.
A swath of gray hair with a small piece of skin hung off the branch.
“Well, what do you know?” Jack took a clear plastic bag out of a side pocket on his backpack. He plucked the matted tuft from the twig and placed it inside the bag. He stuffed it inside his shirt pocket.
Jack looked down. The tule fog was gone. He saw a giant footprint on the snow-packed ground.
He placed his boot inside the depression. The imprint was twice the size of his foot. He saw another footprint, then another; sloping down to where Miguel had just gone.
“Oh, crap!” Jack rushed over to the edge of the rocks and called out, “Miguel, get the hell out of there!”
A loud roar boomed inside the cave.
Miguel came running out. He clawed his way up the rocky slope. “Jack, run!”
Jack tossed Miguel’s backpack to his friend, grabbing his own. Neither had time to put them on properly, hauling them by the straps as they ran.
Sneaking a peek over his shoulder, Jack saw the beast charging over the crest of the incline. It had to be eight feet tall, covered with shaggy gray hair; arms lanky like a primate, thick lumbering legs with enormous feet. A menacingly powerful 600-pound animal but not particularly fast.
Jack and Miguel raced through the forest, the oafish creature in pursuit, stomping through the trees. Jack wanted desperately to dump his burdensome pack to quicken his pace, but that would mean abandoning his gun and supplies, lessening his chances of survival and getting out of the forest alive. They kept running for what seemed an eternity, not stopping until they couldn’t take another step and collapsed to the ground.
Jack fumbled in his pack. He pulled out his revolver expecting at any second the creature would come crashing down the path to maul them to death.
The only sound he heard was the soft rustling of the branches.
“My God, I was so close to getting a sample of that thing,” Miguel said, catching his breath.
Jack reached inside his shirt pocket. He showed Miguel the clear plastic bag with the tuft of hair. “No worries. I got us covered.”
“Where the hell did you get that?”
“Off a tree.”
“You mean, while I was down there almost getting my head ripped off.”
“Hey, how did I know?” Jack sto
od. He strapped on his backpack. He kept his revolver handy. “Come on, let’s go home.”
38
REVEALED
Lucas Finder walked into the massive hangar being used to retrofit an entire fleet of transport trucks. Metal workers were busily building the enormous cages on the flatbed trailers that would later be covered with heavy-duty tarps to conceal the cargo so as not to attract unwanted attention.
He donned a pair of protective lens safety glasses to watch a welder, wearing a full-face helmet and heavy leather gloves, spot-weld joints with an oxyacetylene torch. The air was thick with toxic smoke drifting from the flying sparks. Lucas pulled out his clipboard tucked under his arm. He made a special note to get more circulating fans.
After completing his rounds in the hangar, Lucas set out across the compound to a nondescript windowless three-story building that looked like a large waterfront warehouse from the outside. Two security guards armed with Uzi pistols stood on either side of the fortified metal entry door.
“Afternoon, Mr. Finder,” the tall guard greeted.
“Henry.” Lucas acknowledged the other man. “Bill.”
Lucas slipped his passkey into the reader. The heavy locks disengaged with a loud thunk. The pneumatic door swung open. He stepped through, the impenetrable door clunking behind him.
He walked down a short corridor towards another closed door where a guard was posted wearing a Glock sidearm. As Lucas didn’t recognize the man, he flashed his Wilde Enterprises top clearance employee badge. The guard nodded and motioned for Lucas to swipe his passkey. The automatic door opened with a swish and Lucas went in.
A hallway led into a small maze of cubicles reserved for the lab assistants and supporting technicians. Large pane windows and glass doors separated the outer offices utilized by various scientific team members.
Lucas tapped on the glass door with the name plaque: Professor Nora Howard, M.D, Ph.D. An attractive woman in a white lab coat looked up from her desk. She gave Lucas a guarded smile and motioned for him to enter.
As soon as he came into her office, he saw she wasn’t alone. “Hello, Cam.”
The young man in the gray uniform half stood from his seat to acknowledge Lucas. Cam Morgan was one of a dozen animal caretakers maintaining the facility. He had a worried look on his face.
“Anything I should know about?” Lucas asked. As project manager of Wilde Enterprises, he had to be privy to every aspect pertaining to all of his boss’ business ventures, especially billionaire Carter Wilde’s latest all-time pet project.
Nora sat back from her desk. “There’s a problem with the bats.”
“The ones you bioengineered from the tooth?”
“That’s right.”
“What’s wrong with them?”
“Cam, you want to tell Mr. Finder?”
“It was my fault really. I tried to introduce a youngster too early to the adults.”
“What happened?”
“They ate it.”
“You mean these things are cannibalistic?”
Nora looked at Lucas. “They don’t seem to bond well. Their imprinting has been distorted in the lab somewhere along the way. I’ll work on it.”
“What about McCabe? Does he know about this?” Dr. Joel McCabe was head geneticist of the program.
“He might. You know him. He’s not one for sharing.”
“Yeah, he’s not exactly a team player but he’s the best at what he does.”
Nora smiled at Cam. “Next time, please check with me first.”
“I will. Thanks, Professor Howard.” Cam got up from his seat and left the office.
Lucas remained standing at the door. “Mind if I take a peek?”
“No, not at all.” Nora stood up from her desk.
As they were leaving Nora’s office, they heard a loud commotion from another office down the hall. A bearded man in a white lab coat was yelling at a man in a three-piece business suit.
“Who’s that with Dr. McCabe?” Nora asked Lucas.
“One of the corporate lawyers.”
They watched as the attorney strode out of Dr. McCabe’s office. In a fit of anger, McCabe snatched up a microscope from his desk and smashed it on the floor.
“Son of a bitch,” Lucas groaned. “That was a two-thousand dollar piece of equipment. That’s definitely coming out of his budget.” He made a note of it on a sheet on his clipboard.
Nora led the way into the laboratory. She stopped at a workbench and placed a clear plastic bag containing a swath of gray hair on the tabletop.
“What’s that going to be?” Lucas asked.
“Hopefully, a Bigfoot.”
“Where was that found?”
“British Columbia.”
“So how many teams do you have out there?”
“Only the one. Jack Tremens and Miguel Walla.”
“Do they know about the other teams?”
“That they’re all dead? No. I was afraid if they knew they wouldn’t participate. I know that sounds callous.”
“How is your mother?”
“She has her good days and bad.”
“It’s good the company’s picking up the medical bills. I understand that medication she’s on is pretty expensive.”
“Five-hundred thousand dollars a year. Which is why I can’t let anyone jeopardize this project. If Carter Wilde doesn’t see positive results, he’ll cut the funding, and I’m out of a job.”
Lucas followed Nora over to a door. She used her keycard and swiped it down the reader. The moment the door began to automatically open, Lucas heard a cacophony of animal and bird sounds he would expect in a jungle teeming with wildlife.
As he stepped into the cavernous room, he saw a giant black panther as big as a horse, pacing back and forth in a cage. Birds the size of airplane gliders perched on swings in a three-story tall aviary. A blue tiger took one look at Lucas and snarled, baring its long fangs. Two fifteen-feet long monitor lizards flicked their tongues. A wild ape-man twice his height gaped down at him.
Lucas looked around at the many amazing creatures occupying the other enclosures once believed to be legends and myths created by a God-like myriad of genetics tampering to appease the idiosyncratic Carter Wilde in making his boyhood dream come true...CRYPTID ZOO.
THE EXCITING ADVENTURE CONTINUES...
EXCERPT FROM
CRYPTID ZOO
DREAM PROJECT
Lucas Finder was the lone occupant on the elevator headed up to Carter Wilde’s office. He’d brought his attaché case along, knowing his boss was anxious for an updated progress report. Construction was near completion thank God, but there was still much that needed to be done before the theme park would be ready for Opening Day.
Lucas had been project manager for Wilde Enterprises for the past ten years and had completed many engineering feats around the world. He’d always beaten his deadlines and completed each project under budget, and was graciously compensated for his exemplar achievements, spurring him to take on even more challenging assignments.
But this venture had been unlike building a pharmaceutical manufacturing facility in South Korea or erecting an elegant high-rise hotel in a wealthy Middle Eastern country and embossing WILDE ENTERPRISES over the front entrances.
This had been a seemingly impossible whim of a 62-year-old eccentric multi-billionaire who happened to be the fifth richest man on the planet and had the resources at his fingertips to make a childhood fantasy come true.
Lucas couldn’t remember the last time he had gotten more than three hours sleep in one night since starting the $4 billion project, which had been expected to take three years to complete.
His cell phone was constantly ringing, problems occurring on a daily basis, each one a potential setback threatening to push out the scheduled completion date, which was now only weeks away.
There had been times he was so frustrated he’d even contemplated giving his notice then quickly came to his senses when he realized how much he
would miss his job and the sacrifices he would have to make. But most of all, it would be admitting failure and disappointing his boss.
The elevator came to an abrupt stop and the doors slid open.
Lucas stepped out onto the top floor of Wilde Enterprises corporate office—Carter Wilde’s penthouse office suite.
The mosaic marble floor had recently been buffed and shimmered like the surface of a sparkling lake under a moonlit sky.
An attractive brunette in her mid forties was sitting at a cherry wood custom reception station that looked like a fortress caponier with its parapet of translucent acrylic window risers. She looked up and smiled. “Good morning, Mr. Finder.”
“Morning, Katherine.”
Katherine Donahue was Carter Wilde’s trusted secretary, and had been since Lucas first began traveling up to the 100th floor to visit the eccentric tycoon.
“Would you like for me to order you up something?” Katherine asked.
“I don’t think I could eat though coffee would be nice.”
“I’ll tell them to bring up a pot of Death Wish.”
“You’re the best,” Lucas said. He needed a quick pick-me-up and knew the popular brand would do the trick having 200% more caffeine than any other coffee drink.
“Go right in. He’s expecting you,” Katherine said.
“Thank you,” Lucas said. He turned and walked past the large pane windows facing out over the cityscape.
Two burly security guards wearing suits stood outside the tall mahogany double doors to Wilde’s office. They scrutinized Lucas and for a second he thought they were going to pat him down. Instead one man reached over and dutifully opened a door.
Lucas gave the big man a nod. He walked through the doorway into the office and the door closed briskly behind him.
Carter Wilde was standing behind his desk with his back turned, facing the floor-to-ceiling wall of glass. He made no indication that he heard Lucas enter.
Cryptid Island Page 14
