I remembered what mom had said. Don’t go out after dark. It’s dangerous in the woods. There’d been something in her voice that bothered me more than usual.
But telling me not to do something was like throwing gas on a fire. It was a guaranteed way to light my curiosity and make sure I did just the opposite of what I’d been told. It amazed me that my family hadn’t figured that out already. Or maybe they had, and they just didn’t care.
At any rate, I wasn’t sleeping, so...
I shuffled my legs over the side of the bed and sat up, dressing in the dark, adding a thin jacket to ward off the cool night breeze. I grabbed my bow and pack, tossing in my last water bottle. I didn’t want to chance going to the kitchen for more.
Moving to the dormer windows, cracked open to let in the air, I shifted them open the rest of the way. I reached through and under and unlatched the screen and brought it inside, freezing in alarm when it clanged against the wall. I listened for several pregnant seconds before I set it down and moved my desk chair under the window.
Perched in the middle of it, I stuck my head and shoulders through the window and looked down. Only five feet separated me from my bedroom window and freedom. The moon hung heavy and round. Even in full darkness there would be plenty of light for me to see by. I had excellent night vision.
I hesitated, remembering my mom’s words. A frisson of fear rolled over my spine. I shook it off.
Way to be a Nancy, Sadie.
I fed my pack and bow through first, leaning forward and letting them drop with barely a sound. I followed.
I looked up the path, clear and visible in the moonlight, and shivered. I wouldn’t be gone long, I promised myself. Just enough to do a little reconnaissance, explore a bit and make myself tired enough to fall asleep. I looked back at the window I’d come through. A full five feet off the ground and no ladder.
Well, outstanding. Hadn’t thought of that. I’d worry about it when I got back.
I slung my pack over my back and headed up the path. I should be fine as long as I didn’t leave it to wander about in the darkened woods.
Somewhere to my left an owl hooted, watching me with those eerie nocturnal eyes as I passed underneath. I was disrupting her hunt for some unsuspecting mouse wandering where it shouldn’t. I listened close for any other movement in the surrounding underbrush. I wasn’t keen on surprising a grizzly bear or mountain lion in the dark. A guaranteed way to ruin my night.
I’d been hiking for the better part of a half hour, the needles spongy and quiet beneath my feet, when I realized I was being followed. Heart pounding in alarm, I swung my bow off my back, hoping I was imagining things. I continued up the trail, listening for the tell, the slightest disturbance in the air.
There it was again.
A branch in the path behind me had given way beneath something heavy.
Something was stalking me, tracking me from a distance. It was possible that whatever it was had simply wandered onto the same easy trail as I had. A bear or a deer, perhaps? But whatever was behind me was putting serious effort into keeping quiet, following the scent of the stupid girl who hadn’t listened to her mother when she told her the woods could be dangerous in the mountains at night.
I scurried a little faster, eyes darting into the trees, searching for one I could climb and take up a safe position in. I could have moved off the trail and waited for whatever it was to pass, but if it had my scent, and I suspected it did; then that would only put me in more danger as I stumbled about in dark, unfamiliar territory.
So tree it was. I broke into a trot, conscious that what followed was taking less time to be quiet and picking up speed. Stealth was leaving the picture along with my chances. I almost missed the low-hanging branches of the large leaf maple about ten feet off the path. It was high off the ground, but I was running out of options. I swung my bow over my shoulder, veered towards it at a fast clip and made a running jump and snagged the lowest branch, using my momentum to swing my foot up and over, hoping my pack and bow wouldn’t get in the way. From there I started climbing, heading for the largest branch, some fifteen feet up that opened to a clearer view of the ground and path below. As soon as I was in place, I reached for my bow and set a bolt.
The early morning dampness sunk into my bones and I shivered, fear sliding deep and making my heart beat too fast. It was a way to the ground, and the branches interfered with the view, but I could see most of the ground beneath me. It was only a matter of seconds before what had been on my trail burst into the small clearing below. I blinked to clear my vision, fingers trembling on the trigger and itching like crazy. There were two of them. At first I thought I was looking at two men.
I dispelled that quick enough, staring at the dense fur that covered their bodies and the lack of clothing. Bear maybe? But that didn’t seem right either. Bears could stand on their hind quarters. But they didn’t move place to place that way like these did. I was tired and scared. That had to be it.
A series of snuffled breaths, and I knew they were tracking me. It didn’t take long before they stopped at the base of my tree.
I strained to listen as hard as I could. I made out words, foreign because I couldn’t understand them, but they were human words. Oh My God. I’d discovered Bigfoot and he could talk.
Then they looked up. My eyes met the yellow glitter of the largest. Thin lips peeled back from yellowed fangs. Did he just smile at me?
He started to climb, and my heart almost stopped. I needed to pee. But years of hunting had given me some experience in tight situations. I let it come, angling my bow, and taking careful aim; waiting until I couldn’t miss. I fired. It was a direct hit.
Bigfoot took out several smaller branches as it plowed through them on its way to the ground with a snarl of rage and pain.
I had hit high in the shoulder, but whatever it was it was tough, scrambling to its feet almost at once and ripping the bolt free with a flurry of foreign guttural words. I guessed it was swearing at me. Both stared back up at me, waiting as I stood braced firm, sighting down the length of the tiller with another bolt ready to fly.
They must have had a sudden change of heart. All at once, both of them turned and ambled back up the path, moving until they were out of sight. My eyesight in the dark was good, better than good in fact. My hearing was better. I made out the exact moment when they stopped and turned, staring back the way they’d come and waited. Just how smart was Big Foot anyhow? They were waiting for me to come back down, dammit. I listened for several moments to see if they moved on. They weren’t going anywhere.
With a sigh I settled back against the rough bark and got comfortable, looking up at the moon, still bright and shining like a new penny. I had at least another three hours before dawn. Mom was going to kill me.
I MUST HAVE DOZED, waking as a bright sliver of sunlight crested the horizon and slid over my closed lids. Distant movement snagged my attention, and I listened to my stalkers move on down the trail, not bothering to be quiet about it as they left.
I waited at least another half hour before I climbed down from the tree.
I’M NOT SURE HOW I made it down the mountain to my house and back through that window without mom catching me, but I did. Maybe fear gave my feet wings as I ran back the way I’d come the night before. The last thing I remember before sleep claimed me was that I didn’t believe in Bigfoot.
The next day I was quiet, even for me. Thinking about the men that had been animals that had been men too. They’d tracked me. Predators did that. Then they’d talked about it. I hadn’t understood the words, but they were human. When all was said and done, I wasn’t sure what to believe? I was laying off the jalapeno chips and eating more vegetables like mom had suggested.
Despite my fear, the next day during broad daylight found me standing at the base of that tree and looking for blood.
Only, there wasn’t any. No blood, no missing bolt. I examined the scuffed bark where I’d climbed up, and the beast had fallen down
after I shot it. No glimmer of red or rust brown as it dried. I looked closer. What was there though was a black residue, dotted in spots. I reached out a finger and touched the gummy tar like splotches. It stuck to my fingers like glue and I rubbed my fingers against the bark to get it off. I noticed something else. The aroma was horrific. I’d been around dead things before. I was well aware of what rotting tissue smelled like. This was worse. I wrinkled my nose and backed away. Now that I knew more what I was looking for I noticed more drops on the ground and further up the trail where they had run to wait me out. I was an excellent tracker, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to meet whatever that was again soon.
Looking up the trail one more time, I turned around and went back. I stayed close to the house the rest of the day, accept for the quick trip into town to the sporting goods store. I needed to follow up on an idea I’d had. Back home, I did a load of laundry and waited for the time to pass.
I PAUSED OUTSIDE MY window in the damp lawn, shivering and wishing I’d remembered to grab my jacket. The temperature dropped a lot after dark in the mountains at night. I wasn’t in North Dakota anymore...
I bent to sniff my shirt and pack. Nothing. At least I couldn’t pick anything up. I’d washed everything in a no-scent soap I’d picked up in the hunting section and dried everything on the line outside. Mom had ignored me when I traipsed past her with my sodden clothing to hang them off the railing on the porch. She was used to the weird things I did that defied explanation. Besides, she was gearing up for interview number two and too anxious to want to argue with her rebellious and opinionated daughter.
I moved off up the trail, listening for what I hadn’t the night before. I kept my eyes peeled for any movement bigger than a squirrel and didn’t waste time. I wanted to get beyond where I’d been the night before. What I was doing was foolish, but I was going to find out what had been stalking me.
Half-an-hour later, I was wondering if I was just wandering around in the dark and nothing of interest was going to happen. My muscles were screaming from the jog up the mountain and I slowed down. Sweat smelled despite my precautions, and I wasn’t eager to draw the beasts. I wanted to be the one tracking them this time.
When I heard movement behind me, I wasted no time in moving off the path. I climbed a pile of dead-fall, perching on the uppermost log for a better view and to notch a bolt. I had to smile as three shapes this time, human-like but undeniably hairy, passed by where I hid within fifteen feet of me. I waited until they were further up the trail before I climbed down and fell in behind, silent and hanging back just far enough that I could make out their movement ahead of me on the trail. Three against one was not my kind of odds.
I’d been stalking them for less than five minutes when I made a frightful discovery. As I’d been following them, something else was following me and closing. They’d trapped me on the trail between them. Had that been the plan all along to draw me out? My instinct for survival was kicking in and the knowledge that I was in deep shit. I looked for a way off the trail, and any substantial tree I might climb as the gap narrowed. The beasts ahead moved slower. What was behind me was speeding up. Panic threatened to overwhelm me as I turned a narrow bend in the path. Something foul rode in the air now, and I tried to control my natural urge to gag. I looked for an opening, anything to get me off the damned trail, but there was nothing. Whatever was behind me was closing quick, coming around the bend where I would be lit in the gimlet eye of the moon peering down from above. I stood poised, ready to turn and make a stand when out of nowhere a beefy hand reached out of the dark and yanked me sideways off the trail, hand covering my mouth so I couldn’t scream. It pulled me back under a dense growth of Briars; low to the ground, the brambles pulling at my clothing and digging into my skin. I struggled, and whoever held me shook me to get my attention. It occurred to me then that whoever had yanked me off that path had no more desire than I did to get caught. I stilled. The hand on my mouth eased away, and I inhaled deep, frowning. Did his hand smell like my deceased collie, Lloyd?
I had no more time to think about it, as what had been on my tail came around the bend at a run. There were three of them. They came to a screeching stop near the larger, apelike creatures I’d been following. These were different, smaller and more chimpanzee like in appearance and behavior, bent low to the ground and making snuffling sounds as their snouts quivered and scented the air. I knew my laundry trick was wearing off quick, and besides, my companion smelling like a wet dog couldn’t be helping. I started to whisper and my companion jerked me silent in warning. Together we watched as the three beasts talked and the two newcomers sniffed the ground around them like ugly grey puppies, lower on the food chain and acting more like pets than companions.
If that were true, then the beasts had sent their dogs after me.
Several stressful moments later, they all turned and moved up the trail. Still, we didn’t move. We listened to make sure they didn’t stop. I needed no repeats of the night before.
My companion shuffled and moved behind me, and I followed suit as we climbed on all fours out of the briars and stood up. I got my first proper look at my rescuer, and that was when I realized what I hadn’t before. There were two of them. Two teenagers about my age stared back at me. The boy was taller than me by only a few inches, but stocky with a solid spare tire that said he could stand to drop a few pounds. But he’d been strong, lifting me off the trail one-armed. Tight black curls hugged his head, several shades darker than his light chocolate skin. He eyed me with brown eyes so light they were almost yellow. His companion was his opposite in every way. She was shorter by a good six inches and as fair as he was dark. Silver blond hair fell down her back to her waist. Light aqua eyes met mine with a kind shyness that drew me in. She looked totally out of place, whereas the boy fit right in.
I thrust my hand out. “I’m Sadie Cross. Thank you for that.” The boy nodded with a scowl of irritation, while the girl smiled.
He nodded, ignoring my hand. “Thomas Tuttle,” he inclined his head towards his companion. “Sirris Waverly. Not too smart wandering around on these trails at night. We need to get going before they come back to find what they missed.” Without another word, he moved towards the trail and started down. I wanted to remind him he’d been doing the same thing. With a wry grin, Sirris grabbed my hand and squeezed.
“Better follow, he’s gruff when he thinks I’m in danger. It brings out his inner wolf.” I blinked and followed. Her voice sounded like tinkling glass and waterfalls.
We fell into step behind Thomas’ broad back, trotting to keep up with his lengthy stride. For a big teen, he moved fast.
We were halfway down the mountain when I almost mowed Sirris down in front of me. Thomas had all but stopped and then swerved off the main trail onto another one concealed by a tangle of briar bushes that had hidden it from view. We continued on for another fifteen minutes before emerging into a large clearing and a substantial farm smack dab in the middle of the woods. They had peeled the trees back to create what amounted to a several acre parcel of open land on the side of the mountain. An enormous farm house sat opposite of where we stood, bathed in shadows as dawn was still at least a half-hour away.
Thomas headed towards the large barn and the side door leading in. Inside, the shuffle and groan of livestock milling about and the musky aroma of a working barn hit my nose. It should have been unpleasant but I found it comforting, instead.
No stranger, Sirris moved to a small mini-fridge sitting next to what looked like a tack room and snagged a couple cokes. She tossed one my way, and I caught it midair. Sirris opened hers and took a long drink. Thomas grabbed his own and drained half the can before sitting it on the wood plank table. It was arranged along the wide aisle with several mismatched folding chairs in a circle around it. Sirris plopped in one, and I joined. Thomas moved off, snagging a leaf of hay from a bale cracked open outside a stall door. He opened the third stall on the right and disappeared. A soft nicker and a hint of ears a
ppeared over the stall to look out at them before disappearing. We heard heavy munching.
Thomas returned and joined us, still having said nothing.
I couldn’t contain my curiosity any longer.
“So, is somebody going to tell me what all this—that is? Just what are those things? Did I just discover Bigfoot and his furry dogs? I wasn’t sure the other night. But glimpse two? Those things aren’t anything I’ve ever seen.”
Thomas spoke up, eyes wide. “You escaped them once, and you came back for more?” Thomas observed, incredulous. His tone said—stupid.
Sirris shook her head.
“What lives in these woods at night is nothing any human wants to mess with. People disappear here if they aren’t careful.” Human? We were all human.
“You were both out there.” I pointed out.
They exchanged looks. “Yes, of course. We know what we’re doing. We’re trying to figure out where they’re holing up.” Thomas added. “When we do? I’ll tell dad and my brother’s, and they can share it with Tuttle Council? Then, we’re going hunting.”
I looked at both of them. Thomas with his brute strength, a knife sheathed at his side and nothing else. Sirris didn’t even have that. She grasped a long slender staff I hadn’t noticed before in both her slim hands, her cheek resting against it. I pulled my crossbow in front of me.
“I hate to break it to you, but I think I’m better armed than either of you.”
Thomas chuckled, and I jumped at the grating sound. Sirris smiled like she knew something I didn’t.
“I’m sure you’re right Sadie Cross.” Thomas murmured, strange brown-gold eyes striking and hard.
Fire Born Dragon (Rule 9 Academy Book 1) Page 3
