Chasing the Demon

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Chasing the Demon Page 24

by Paul Sating


  It could only mean one thing. A herd.

  Jared snapped a dozen pictures and a video, getting as much detail of the tracks and the surroundings as he could. The imprints weren't the sexiest things he'd ever got, the stomped underbrush didn't allow for the best detail, but he didn't need that. This was bigger than getting more visual evidence of tracks. What he needed was evidence of their behaviors. And right now he was getting the type of behavioral evidence he'd longed to find. This would show that Sasquatch weren't solitary creatures. It also supported his theory on communities. This will revolutionize the way investigators and cryptozoologists think! "So there's at least three Sasquatch here," he recorded after he packed his camera again. "That makes sense. It's consistent with my last two expeditions. And the tracks lead back uphill, three sets. But it looks like one, probably the one I've been following, is being supported by the two others. His tracks are less distinct, like a leg is being dragged. Maybe more. He's injured."

  Then it dawned on him, erasing all the joy he felt about getting the pictures of the herd tracks. "The world may finally get the corpse they've been clamoring for."

  Jared surveyed the mountainside. The path was going to be easy to follow. The two Sasquatch who'd come down the mountain didn't try to hide any trace of their presence. Jared followed it, shocked at what he was seeing. The Sasquatch had—

  A howl, not all that distant, reverberated around the forest. It wasn't like the other howls and whistles he'd been hearing over the past weeks around Hurricane Ridge. This was different. Pained. Sorrowful.

  He took a deep breath. "Here we go. Time to meet Bigfoot."

  *****

  This couldn't be real.

  Yet it was.

  Jared knelt behind a tree that had given up the fight against gravity years ago, laying on its side, top facing downhill. Like many of the felled trees in this part of the world, younger, healthier branches grew out of it, near the root system. They provided decent coverage, but the better coverage came in the form of other flora that stretched out across the face of the mountain. It was dense. Very dense. The perfect hiding spot.

  And he needed the perfect place to hide.

  Because he was looking at a community of Bigfoot nests.

  "I can't believe this," he whispered into the recorder, trying hard to keep his voice low. Excitement coursed through him. Everything shook. "The marked tracks of the three Sasquatch I followed led to a nest. I'm about a hundred yards away but I can see a small community. That's the only way I can describe it. It's under heavy tree coverage and surrounded by thick brush. There's a distinct area that's been rubbed down to bare earth with four different nests built from tree branches. Could there be more of them? I don’t know. Each structure is roughly the same build, about five foot high with large openings facing downhill, too the south. Two deer carcasses are off to the east side of this camp. I'm getting as many pictures and video as I can."

  Jared snapped a few more, transfixed by what he was seeing, trying to take it all in while also remembering he was here to finish his work. Forget changing the world, he was here for one thing. This was it. This was everything he'd spent the better part of two decades working toward. It was the end of a journey and he was going to enjoy it for all that it was.

  He knew he was very lucky to be a witness to this. The first human ever to see Sasquatch in their natural habitat.

  "But more remarkable is the—" he stopped when thundering footsteps boomed off to his left. He hadn't expected another Sasquatch! Jared shrunk down, careful to not disturb the flora and draw attention. The new Sasquatch didn't take notice of him. It lumbered into the camp with a small number of strides. Jared controlled his exhale before his breath burst out of him with a cough. "That was close. Another Sasquatch just passed me, about thirty yards away. A massive creature. He's got to be over eight feet tall, and if I had to guess, over seven hundred pounds. Four Sasquatch!

  "The one I shot is lying on the ground, close to the nests. Two others are standing near him, one keeps looking around as if it's searching for something, while the other is ... is ... now it's kneeling next to the injured one and it's stroking his arm."

  Jared snapped pictures of this display of tenderness. It was all so human. What he would give for the world to witness this. He understood people. The reactions this evidence was going to get when it came out, even if he was able to get a major publication to run it, would elicit exactly what he knew it would elicit. One very predictable human behavior was fear; fear of the unknown; fear of things that were different; fear of anything one could perceive as a threat. Fear was the standard operating procedure for humans. What he was witnessing could change that. Seeing the small cluster of Sasquatch caring for one of their own in a way every single person could identify with, how would that not strengthen humanities' desire to study and understand these creatures, and to respect their autonomy?

  "Fascinating!" He switched to video mode. There had to be a recording of this. People needed to see these wonderful creatures in their habitat. They needed to witness the communal spirit as these Sasquatch huddled around their injured loved one. "It's like it's trying to comfort the one I shot! We know plenty of wild animals display empathy so it's not surprising that Sasquatch would as well. It's just ... I wasn't expecting it, I guess. It's a beautiful thing to see."

  The fourth Sasquatch stomped around the group, circling them, its long arms swaying dramatically. Every few seconds it grunted, sharply jerking its head upward. Its antics elicited grunts of their own from the other two Sasquatch tending to the injured one.

  "The fourth one has now joined the group," Jared whispered. "It looks agitated. Whatever he's communicating to the others, he doesn't look happy about it."

  The fourth Sasquatch circled and circled. Grunts. Growls. It was all so amazing to see but the reality he couldn't escape was that he'd caused this. The beast on the ground was struggling and it was his fault. Its feat of fortitude and strength was still impressive. It had to be at least an eight-mile hike and the animal had lost enough blood to kill a cow. Most of that hike had been accomplished unassisted, which most likely did nothing for the injured Sasquatch but exacerbate its injuries. Its large, round chest rose and fell in quick, slight jerks.

  Oh, God.

  "The one on the ground ... it's heaving ... it's ... it looks like it's struggling." The other Sasquatch growled, almost in unison. "Oh, no ... it's ... dying."

  The animal's chest stopped rising before suddenly heaving. The injured Sasquatch grunted a wet sound from deep in its chest. Everything was a labor for this dying animal. Jared had never been so disgusted with himself in his entire life. Everything he'd screwed up he could fix, or at least try to fix, but this wasn’t one of those opportunities. Death couldn’t be called back. "This is hard to watch. I can't help but feel for that creature, the suffering it's enduring. I was defending myself but—"

  The Sasquatch kneeling next to the injured one lifted its chin, pursing its lips, and howled. Not a call, not a whistle, but a mournful, tragic sound. The single howl rose over the encampment before it was joined by the second Sasquatch. It, too, turned its face toward the sky and let loose a soul-shaking wail. Jared wondered while he watched this display if these animals possessed some transcendent sense. It almost looked like they were turning to the heavens as a desperate attempt to save their loved one. Could this species be that similar to their hairless cousins that they would have developed some sense of something larger than themselves?

  Jared watched the injured Sasquatch, waited for the chest to jerk up and shimmy its way back down as the animal exhaled. But nothing happened. He didn't break his gaze to observe the other animals; his full focus was on the Sasquatch he shot, waiting for it to draw another breath. But it didn't.

  It wouldn't.

  Never again.

  It was ...

  "He's gone."

  The chorus of mourning rang out. This moment wasn't about him but it hurt just the same, like one of thos
e large animals reached into his chest and compacted his heart in their large hands. This was devastating. Twenty years of chasing these animals hadn't prepared him to see this. Throughout his youth and into the early stages of his career it was easy to hate and want to destroy. He'd lost his first dog and, ultimately, his parent's marriage to the Sasquatch and he'd hated the creature all those years ago for what it'd done to him. He'd wanted to kill it, to hurt it as it had done to him. But time changes everyone, life changes, people change, and as he studied this species, as he grew to understand his own, he appreciated that Sasquatch wasn't the type of monster that lived in the mind of a young boy.

  The chorus of howls grew. The fist tightened around his heart. Jared swallowed the lump in his throat. "I've killed Bigfoot." Now, even the largest one joined in the song of sorrow. "Somehow I imagined this would feel—they're moving the body. The big one hefted it onto his shoulders. It weighs hundreds of pounds and he lifted it like a duffel bag! What are they doing? Are they…shit!"

  The Bigfoot headed in his direction. Jared stood as high as he dared, not wanting to become part of this procession. It was slow going. The Bigfoot could cover much more ground than he could. But he wasn't trying to outrace them; he wanted to get out of the line of their funeral march. He stumbled but caught himself before landing face first and tumbling down the mountainside. There was so much undergrowth that moving anywhere quickly was a risky proposition. He didn't want to get tangled in anything and hurt himself or give them a hint he was here, but they were closing in. He didn’t want to think about what would happen if they tripped over him.

  He moved as fast as he could, avoiding every branch, every vine, every limb that jutted into his path to slow him down. Somewhere, behind him, he heard a howl that sounded different than the wails of mourning. This one was a warning.

  "Shit! Shit!" he cursed, instinct told him he'd been found out. Branches cracked behind him. Jared was afraid to turn, not only because he worried that he'd trip over something in the two seconds it'd take him to get a situation report for himself, but because he was also afraid of what he'd see. Something moved behind him. Something quick. Something large.

  The last thing he wanted to hear.

  Boom! Boom! Boom!

  Up ahead he had about fifteen feet of clear path, so he took the chance of looking over his shoulder. Through the tall branches, he could see a brown monstrosity moving, lumbering but fluid, in the same line he was on. The Sasquatch howled as it ran after him, with increasing speed. There wasn't time or a clear path to see more than the large shape crashing through the underbrush. But he didn't need to see it snarling, he didn't need to see its eyes locked on him to know that he wasn't hidden from it. Jared stood to his full height, crouching was only slowing him down, and sprinted across the mountain. With bears, an effective defensive posture was to run across the face of a mountain. Bears couldn't move laterally very easy and the slope of a mountain worked against them, slowing them down. Jared wasn't sure if the same held true for Sasquatch. As far as he knew he was the first one to ever be chased by one. He was now the test subject. But options were limited. He was in their realm, in their world. This was their landscape so they knew the land better and were physically dominate to him in every single way. He had to try whatever he could to get away.

  But standing and running at breakneck speed was still a slow jog for the Sasquatch, which continued to gain on him. The booming footsteps fell quicker, louder. Closer. He was tripping, stumbling, struggling to keep his balance, while the Sasquatch sounded like it was running straight, the mountain terrain and gravity be damned. It carved the path it wanted through the bushes.

  Jared zigged to his left, up the hill. His pace slowed to a fast walk. Options narrowed as the Sasquatch closed in. From far behind, howls. Anger mixed with loss. He'd disrespected them. He'd intruded into something he wasn't supposed to be part of.

  He turned again, running an even more direct path up the mountain. His thighs burned. His knees threatened to give up on him. Fear propelled him. Nothing more.

  And yet the Bigfoot got closer and closer. Jared could feel each time its massive paws slammed into the earth in pursuit.

  How long could he fool himself? How long did he think he could outrun and outmaneuver this animal? They'd never been studied; no one knew the lung capacity of a Sasquatch. For all he knew, his pursuer could run twenty or thirty miles before tiring. It didn't matter what other investigators or cryptozoologists thought, they were speculating when they talked about the physical capabilities of these animals. It'd never been measured and studied so their guess was as good as his ... and he was living this experiment.

  And he knew.

  Boom! Boom! Boom!

  Crack!

  The steps were slower but they were still closing in on him. Jared could hear the animal grunting behind him. In seconds it would be on top of him.

  This was it. This was how it ended.

  He dodged to his right at a ninety-degree angle and could feel the air around his head move. The Sasquatch had swiped at him, the powerful swing coming out of nowhere. Jared didn't expect that, hadn't thought the animal was that close.

  I'm not getting out of here alive.

  The disheartening thought came quick, true, and clear. Even dodging the animal, running uphill or across the mountain, none of it had shaken the Sasquatch off his trail. And he was tiring; he was already exhausted.

  The Sasquatch growled and Jared turned to face it. He didn't know why. It was the dumbest thing he could have done if he wanted to get away.

  You're not escaping, you know it. This is where it all ends. Now or never.

  He almost laughed at the ridiculous reminder he'd played for himself in his head, over and over, trying to convince himself that it was time to end this folly and enjoy a life with the woman who gave him everything he'd ever wanted. Now she wouldn’t be able to save him.

  The Sasquatch was immense, not as big as the giant who'd carried their dead companion from the camp, but large enough to strike fear into his soul simply by its mere presence. It was a foot taller than him, close to seven feet tall and, judging by its girth, had to weigh close to five hundred pounds. How something that large moved up the mountain with that speed and ease, Jared had no idea. But that wasn't what stunned him. What surprised him was something he noticed when he saw how heavily the animal was breathing. Its breasts heaved from the exertion of chasing him from the camp, bobbing up and down with each breath. This Sasquatch was a female.

  Howls came from below them, back toward the camp.

  Jared risked a glance back down the mountain to see if either of the two surviving Sasquatch were joining this one. But they were alone. He was the smaller, quicker animal. He'd never be able to outrun her in top speed or distance, but he could avoid her death snare if he stayed aware and mobile.

  He stepped to his left, back downhill, and she mirrored his move.

  He took a step to the right, hoping she would overcompensate. The animal stood there, watching him and growling, her lips pulled back, exposing her teeth. Not narrow and pointed, but blunt and flat, like a human, but twice the size. He moved in tiny, measured steps while maintaining eye contact with her. There was something in her eyes, an intelligence not seen in a lot of animals. She was aware. Sentient. Aware of him, her, and her community. She lived and she loved and it was obvious she understood that. An immediate and grievous regret, that he'd never be able to tell the world about this majestic creature.

  She lunged. He wasn't ready for it. The ground underneath him crumbled when he tried to move, sending him crashing down in an awkward split. There was no time to stand or scramble. "No! No! Please," he begged as she towered over him.

  "Please! Don't!"

  She reached down. Though her palm was enormous, it was still very relatable with lines of age and wisdom crisscrossing it. As preposterous as it was, he even noticed she had callouses. "I'm sorry!"

  Her hand grabbed his chest, his shirt, and straps
to his backpack. The power in those five fingers was unquestionable. She squeezed and lifted him off the ground with one arm.

  "Noooooo!" he yelled to a world too busy with the distractions of everyday life to care about what was happening in this remote corner of the Olympic Mountains. "Please. I'm sorry. I—"

  He thought about the past twenty years of his life as she lifted him and the ground fell away.

  He thought about how he'd started this with the fire of hatred burning in his heart, and how it was going to end in remorse and appreciation of their differences and commonalities.

  He thought about all the people who'd helped him get to this point and wondered if they would ever get the closure they needed when it became obvious he was lost to them forever.

  And he thought about how Maria would mourn for him as these Sasquatch did for their loved one. The loved one he'd robbed them of.

  The Sasquatch stared into his eyes when they were face-to-face. Her gaze burned into him. He knew what she'd lost. He began to cry even as she roared into his face, her rank breath gagging him and making his eardrums throb closed against the volume of her pain. His throat sealed, his ears shut down to preserve what they could of his eardrums. And the entire world closed in on that one focal point of connection, where man and beast stared into each other's soul.

  26

  The arm around his shoulder was warm ... light ... and friendly.

  "I still can't believe it," Maria laughed. "Look at these pictures! Jared, you've done it. I'm so happy for you!"

  He couldn't believe it either. If fate so decided that he should live for another thousand years, he didn't think he'd even believe it then. It was all too fantastic. Every bit of that experience on the mountain was. And it’s something I'm going to treasure for the rest of my life.

 

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