Now it was Derek’s turn to hesitate. There had been disagreements in the past. Heck, he had even turned down some assignments because the evidence was too sketchy to draw proper conclusions. Never had they threatened to pull the plug, though. Was this some scheme by Norah to use him to get back at her ex?
Derek quickly pushed that thought aside. He knew she could be opinionated, but he’d never known her to be petty. “Why the ultimatum?”
“It’s not my doing. Yarlberg pulled some strings. Apparently his former...”
“Lackeys?”
“Associates,” she corrected, “are still loyal. They put assurances in place to make sure this gets done.”
“So they’re willing to screw this whole project over, all the innocent lives we save, just to keep their asshole buddy happy?”
“Isn’t that the way politics works?”
“This is the exact thing I told Jake I didn’t want to deal with when I signed up for this.” He knew it was low to bring up Norah’s estranged husband, but this conversation was beginning to leave a bad taste in his mouth.
She took a deep breath, no doubt, Derek surmised, debating whether to take the bait. “I’m sorry. I did my best to tell them this is a one-time deal. They try this crap again and I’ll register a full complaint.”
“And that will do what?”
“Nothing, but it’ll at least put us on record as objecting.”
Derek mentally counted to ten as he weighed his options. He knew his team did a lot of good. Even if the government gave them the boot, they could potentially keep doing it. Of course, that assumed the Adventure Channel didn’t pull the plug, too. They were currently riding fairly high in the ratings. But if the feds decided to be spiteful, which they probably would... And then there was the added fact that they wouldn’t have the protection of the law on their side.
Yeah, we’re screwed. “Fine,” Derek said at last. “You have our nuts in a vice and you know it.”
“Not how I would put it.”
“What happens if we don’t find anything or come to the conclusion that it’s some whackjob running around in the woods?”
“You guys hunt cryptids. If there isn’t a cryptid to blame, then your job is done.”
“Fair enough. Just make sure this guy keeps his minions out of our way.”
“No promises.”
“Why am I not surprised to hear that?”
“Because you’re too smart to not expect it.”
“But still not smart enough to say no?”
“You never were,” she replied, adding a little levity to her voice. This was the Norah that Derek knew and liked.
“Shoot me the details, okay?”
“Already on their way.”
“All right, then. Circumstances aside, it was nice talking to you, Norah.”
“You too. Take care.”
Derek ended the call. He had been planning on getting some rest, but instead decided to unpack his computer. The team had to be briefed and, from the sound of things, it needed to be done soon.
Guess the werewolf of Bray Road will have to wait for the next full moon.
CHAPTER 4
Mitchell poured himself another cup of the viscous black liquid masquerading as coffee. “You’re kidding, right?”
“You mind not yelling?” Francis replied from his place at the table, a heaping pile of scrambled eggs untouched in front of him.
“I told you we should’ve stopped at that second bottle.”
“Can we focus here?” Derek interrupted. He knew it was unfair to drop this in their laps with the previous mission barely cold yet, but it had to be done.
“So the Jersey Devil is real?” Despite her previous night’s coursework, Danni appeared to be in a far better mood than her two sullen-faced teammates, but then, she obviously wasn’t hungover either.
“No,” Mitchell replied morosely, taking a sip. “It’s a crank.”
“The governor of New Jersey begs to disagree,” Derek said.
Francis snorted laughter. “Maybe he should host our show, then.”
Danni tried to steer them back on track. “Isn’t it kind of our job to keep an open mind?”
Though Derek knew cryptozoology wasn’t one of her passions, she was always interested in learning about a new creature. He could understand that. It was hard to not be excited in the face of the unknown.
“Keeping an open mind doesn’t mean automatically believing every fairy tale that comes along,” he explained. “Mitch and I have spent a lot of time in the archives. Every creature we go after has either documented proof of its existence or enough of a case file to warrant serious consideration.”
“Then maybe we just need to go through them more carefully...”
“Been there, done that,” Mitchell said. “When I was a kid, I lived in Jersey for a couple of years. My father was stationed at Fort Monmouth and I used to go camping down south with my friends. We would scare ourselves silly all night with stories about the devil skulking about in the woods. Heck, every time we heard a branch break, we’d just about pee our pants.”
“Thanks for the imagery,” Francis replied.
Mitchell casually flipped him the finger. “When I was first brought on board and learned about all the goodies Uncle Sam has under wraps, I couldn’t read through it all fast enough. Trust me, monsters in the Pine Barrens were high on that list.”
“And?”
“And, there simply isn’t much there, Danni. Random sightings over the years. Very little consistency between them.”
Derek jumped in. “There’s also the fossil record to take into account. Even if we didn’t have the evidence we do, we could potentially surmise that a creature like, say, the Oreng Pendek is real because we have fossils of Homo floresiensis to back it up. Same with most of the other cryptids we keep in check. Not so with the devil. Hell, you’d need half a dozen aberrant evolutionary throwbacks to explain it. There’s just too much inconsistency with the sightings.”
“There’s also one very damning fact,” Mitchell added. “Devil sightings can only be traced back to the eighteen hundreds, late seventeen hundreds at the earliest, long after the colonists had settled in the area.”
“What about Native American legends?” Francis asked, grabbing himself a mug of coffee. “I’ve heard a couple of doozies about winged monsters and such.”
“There’s a difference. Traditional stories usually make a pretty good distinction between spiritual creatures and physical monsters. Think about Okanagan Lake up in Canada. The natives there had been telling tales of something strange living in the lake for hundreds of years before the Europeans came.”
“So what then?” Danni asked. “People there have been seeing something.”
“Maybe,” Derek replied. “Even the name itself, Jersey Devil, implies Judeo-Christian beliefs. Personally, I think the whole thing is a combination of hysteria, local tall tales, and maybe a little misidentification along the way.”
“In short ... bullshit,” Francis concluded.
Derek nodded. “In a nutshell, but we still have to go.”
“Bullshit Hunters it is, then,” Francis said, eliciting a laugh from the rest.
When Mitchell questioned him as to the purpose of hunting this particular boogeyman, as he called it, Derek went into further detail about what Norah had told him, including their personal invitation by the governor of the Garden State.
He explained that the plan was to pack up and head out first thing tomorrow for Nome. From there, they’d catch a flight to Anchorage and then a commercial connection to Newark Liberty International Airport. Norah had assured him their vehicles would be waiting for them there. At that point, they’d head west to Trenton for a quick briefing.
“And then?” Danni asked.
“That’s all I have. They’ll give us the rest in person. There’s some political paranoia at play, so they didn’t send too many details.”
“Gotta love politicians,” Mitchell
commented.
“That doesn’t give us much to go on,” Danni pointed out.
Derek shrugged. “I’m well aware. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do our due diligence. We’ll use today for some fact finding. Read up on the area, the local fauna, et cetera. Make sure there are no surprises. I’ll forward each of you what Norah sent me last night.”
“I’d like to see the archive files on the devil,” Danni said.
Derek considered this for a moment. Her clearance was limited due to her in-training status, but there was nothing overly classified in those records. Though it would be breaking rules, he decided to give her unsupervised access. That’ll teach them to threaten us over a snipe hunt. “You got it. But be forewarned, kid, it’s dry stuff and I guarantee it won’t be all that useful.”
Danni grinned in return. “That’s okay. If it really is that boring, that’ll just mean I sleep well tonight.”
♦ ♦ ♦
It wasn’t quite as dull as Derek had warned, but it was close. Danni had been given access to other files in months past. Many of them included firsthand accounts of the creatures to which they pertained. She’d particularly enjoyed reading about a Navy diver’s encounter down in the Bahamas with what he claimed to be a monstrous octopus. He had managed to escape not only with his life, but a piece of tentacle as well. The scientists who examined it had postulated that the creature it had come from was enormous – maybe even a possible contender for the ancient legend of the kraken.
Sadly, the files on the screen before her now weren’t nearly as interesting. It was mostly old retellings of sightings – a dubious source of veracity in any situation – a few crackpot theories, and some unconvincing photos of footprints. While there had been some serious investigations over the years, any “evidence” found was inconclusive at best.
She smiled at that last thought. Over the past year, she had gotten some exposure to the cryptozoology community at large. While there were some truly dedicated researchers in the field, for every one of them, there were at least three shysters more concerned with a quick buck than anything else. That worked for their purposes. The less respectable types were sloppy and pretty obvious about it. The result was that anyone connected to this type of research was cast in a dim light, as far as the mainstream press was concerned. Traditional media treated them like a bad joke, which had the unintended consequence of making her team’s cover all that more effective. Once they showed up, reporters would quickly pack their bags and move on, not wanting to risk giving them any sort of legitimacy. It was perfect. The press never had a clue as to how well they were being played.
Danni yawned, stretched, then went back to the files – hoping to find something that might be useful for their investigation. The one good thing about still being an undergraduate was that her note-taking skills were fresh and up to the task. She quickly glanced at them to take stock of the pertinent facts she had recorded.
Jersey Devil:
Legends:
- Most popular: 13th child of Mother Leeds – supernatural origin, mid 1700’s
- Leeds Point attributed birth place of devil – potential tourist trap. Also half a state away from the recent disappearances, i.e. a dead end.
- Also attributed to the Shroud family name – less well known in popular culture, but still fairly well researched.
- Possibly predated by Native Americans. Lenape tribe legends account for some strange spirit activity in the Pine Barrens region. Nothing concrete, probably coincidence.
Sightings:
- Mostly sporadic. Several years pass between sightings. Possibly due to low population in region – also possibly due to it all being bullshit!
- Overly high percentage of group sightings compared to other cryptids. Odd outlier, probably one of the few reasons the entire thing isn’t written off as crap. Group hysteria? Possible. This is New Jersey we’re talking about.
Years of notable sightings:
1819
1840
1878
1937 – Longest gap ... why?
1960
2007 onward – related to our case?
Theories:
- Sandhill Crane. A large bird but uncommon to the area. But seriously, how many people really mistake a bird for a monster ... except for maybe Thunderbirds?
- Giant fruit bat. Possible, but not native to the region. Also, giant is a bit of an exaggeration. They’re not that big.
- Undiscovered cryptid? Troublesome. No fossil record to support that theory.
- The actual devil. Hah! Note to self, bring holy water.
- Too many locals drinking wood alcohol – favorite theory so far!
Danni looked up, unimpressed. That was all she had transcribed so far. Hell, she could have gotten better information off of Wikipedia. Derek and the others were right. This was most likely a waste of effort.
She flipped through the files one last time to see if anything had escaped her attention, not expecting to find much. She was just about to call it a night when a picture near the back of one report caught her eye. It was an old black and white photo of some kind of prayer service, one with a distinct fire and brimstone feel to it. A short newspaper clipping accompanied the photo.
Local Priest Exorcises Devil back to Hell
Burlington Bugle – August 5th 1879
Reverend Jedediah Lesterfield and his wife Sarah are seen here leading the faithful in a group exorcism of the creature known as the Leeds Devil. The ungodly beast is said to be responsible for the slaughter of livestock in the area, as well as the possible abduction of three local women of goodly upbringing.
There was a brief summary in the report which gave some further insight. If it was to be believed, the creature had caused a panic amongst the citizens of Shilough, a small town bordering part of the Pine Barrens. Numerous sightings in the prior year, some disappearances – possibly unrelated – and general hysteria had put the town into a near state of emergency. Families had taken to locking themselves inside and holding all night prayer sessions to stave off the creature’s wrath.
Rumors had begun to circulate that the residents finally had enough and were discussing drastic means, such as burning down the forest, in the hopes of ending their torment.
It was Jedediah Lesterfield, a local clergyman with a bit of a shady past himself – the records didn’t elaborate – who suggested the ceremony. He obviously wasn’t the fount of sanity the town needed, Danni considered, but his solution was far better than the disaster that could have occurred had the townsfolk gone ahead with their original plan. She looked more closely at the photo, and at the man she assumed was Lesterfield up front, waving his hands in the air like he was DJing a modern rave.
Ugly sucker, she remarked to herself. Though tall and lanky, his face had a brutish sort of bent to it. In another time and place, this guy would probably be breaking kneecaps for the mob.
Over the course of a grandiose day-long ceremony, he‘d whipped the townsfolk into a religious froth of prayer and singing. Finally, he symbolically cast the devil out, declaring a large swath of the woods to be an unholy place – forevermore to be shunned, lest the creature return from the depths of Hell. Amazingly enough, Danni read, the exorcism appeared to have worked. The people avoided the cursed woods, and sightings died down to almost nothing for several years.
Devil Hunters (Tales of the Crypto-Hunter Book 2) Page 4
