Forsaken - An American Sasquatch Tale

by Christine Conder

  Nathaniel stared at the picture and shook his head in bewilderment, “I’ll be damned.”

  Liberty’s train of thought jumped the track. Getting photographed had to be one of the worst crimes you committed against your colony. Sure, their cavern was a separate domain, not technically Proem, but rules were rules. He’d put them all at risk.

  Adrian and his parents would arrive back at Proem in two nights, at the latest. If Cutler found out, Adrian might not be around on the third.

  Mitch handed the paper to them, and she looked down at the photo again. That had to be the first night Adrian and his family had arrived. She peered at the background, trying to figure out where he’d been, but it was close-up and the all of the trees looked ordinary. It could have been anywhere. She looked at Mitch with an apology ready on her lips, and then he started to hack.

  Adrian had broken the rules in a big way. When this photo got out they’d be stuck underground indefinitely. The idea of banishment irked her, upended their plans. She hoped Mitch knew of a way to stop the photo from being released to the public. At least for a while.

  Mitch wiped his mouth with a hankie. “I’ve always had high hopes for you two.” He’d missed a spot near the corner of his mouth, and a few drops of pink spit lingered. Liberty couldn’t help but stare. It was as if the cancer wanted everyone to see it.

  She and Nathaniel didn’t respond. Liberty’s cheeks flushed in shame because in his painful condition, Mitch also felt disappointed in them.

  “I’m sorry for what Adrian did, but you know Nathaniel and I would never do anything so careless.”

  Mitch raised his eyebrows. “He’s your responsibility, is he not?”

  Nathaniel cut in before Liberty could give her own less than positive response. “You’re right. He is in my charge when he’s here. I’ll handle it. No need for you to worry.” Nathaniel looked at his hands. “Not right now.”

  Mitch sighed, contemplated what Nathaniel had said. The pink spit made its way down his chin and Liberty wanted to reach over and wipe it off. She wished she could wipe off his insides, too.

  “You do need to handle your business.” Mitch looked between the two of them. “But until I’m dead, you’re wrong if you think you’re not my concern.”

  Liberty thought she caught a swirl of chartreuse in his aura.

  “I got a plan up my sleeve for you two,” he said.

  They nodded. No need to argue with a sick man. The man who looked out for them with a vengeance. Who kept up a website as a cover for monitoring Sasquatch hot spots.

  The thought of him putting in the effort for them brought tears to her eyes. Liberty pulled a tissue out of the box near his pillow. She took out an extra one without hesitation and moved to wipe his face. He accepted the gesture.

  She sat back down glad the sight of pink death was gone.

  “A plan is good to have.” Nathaniel rubbed his hands together, appeared ready to tackle the problem. “Tell me what you think should happen. Is there a way to make this die down before it flares up to begin with?”

  Mitch folded the paper and handed it to Nathaniel. “You go back and find out some details. After you get the information, send your people on their way and make sure they don’t return.”

  Liberty sucked in a quick breath, slightly elated at the possibilities of not having to host them next time. She looked at Nathaniel. His mouth hung partly open, speechless.

  “Don’t act surprised, Nathaniel,” Mitch said. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but every time they visit lately it seems an incident happens.”

  Understatement of the century, Liberty thought. But she did feel bad for her husband since it made him feel inadequate, as if he couldn’t even govern his small space without issue.

  Mitch put his hand to his mouth, looked like he was either ready to stifle a cough or a yawn, but then gagged. “You should go,” he managed. “I want to be alone.”

  Chapter Four

  They didn’t bother to take the tunnel back to the cavern. As soon as they exited the basement, Nathaniel pulled ahead in a run, his aura a storm of royal blue, crimson and yellow. Tense, angry, and a tad fearful.

  Was it the fear of being hunted? Or was he afraid of losing Mitch and, in turn, their home? Liberty kept up the best she could.

  Before she’d even lowered the hatch, she could hear the boom of Nathaniel’s voice as it echoed into the vestibule. She shoved her legs into a pair of elastic waist pajamas, shrugged on a zip-up sweatshirt and slipped her feet into unlaced sneakers before she hurried to the guest chamber. When she entered, Nathaniel already had Adrian jacked up against the wall.

  “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? What we’re in for?” Nathaniel held the paper up to a wincing Adrian and, for extra emphasis, shoved Adrian against the limestone with every syllable. Gabriel and Katie appeared further down the corridor, worried and half-clothed.

  Liberty stood just inside the entrance of the room, but stepped aside as soon as his parents reached it.

  “Christ, Nate.” Gabe grabbed Nathaniel’s shoulders, attempting to pull Nathaniel away from his son, “What the hell’s going on?”

  Liberty watched in mild fascination as the paper fluttered to the ground in soft arcs, oblivious to the commotion it had caused. Katie stood next to her, searched her face for an explanation. Liberty met her gaze blankly. Katie’s face paled, her mouth quiet for a change as she stared wide-eyed at the unfolding scene in front of her.

  “Your son can answer me that, too.” Nathaniel tried to shake off a persistent Gabriel, and then finally lessened his grip as Gabriel wedged between the two. Nathaniel let Adrian drop, the boy hitting the ground with a thud.

  Adrian didn’t seem able to respond, covered his face with trembling hands and mumbled words that were unintelligible.

  “Speak up, kid,” Nathaniel yelled, as he tried to swat Adrian’s hands.

  Gabriel stepped firmly between Nathaniel and his son. “Nate, I’m losing my patience. Tell me right now what the hell is going on.”

  Katie moved closer to them, honest concern written across her face.

  Still mumbling, nobody could understand what Adrian was trying to say.

  Nathaniel grabbed the paper from the floor and shoved in into Gabriel’s hands. “See for yourself.” He started to pace and looked ready to jack Adrian up again.

  Gabriel stuck his arm out and motioned for Nathaniel to stay before looking at the photo. He blanched, turning to hand the paper to Katie.

  Nate looked at Gabriel. “I don’t need to tell you what Liberty and I are in for thanks to him.” He motioned to Adrian and the boy flinched. “You need to leave. And you need to do it tonight.”

  Katie put her hand to her mouth, shook her head from side-to-side, slowly coming to terms with what her eyes and ears told her. Her hand and the paper trembled, matching her voice. “Adrian, how could you let this happen?”

  Liberty nearly smiled. Witnessing Nathaniel’s sister in a vulnerable state was a new and welcome experience.

  Nathaniel appeared stoic, moved to the side with his arms crossed, and allowed Gabriel to take over the interrogation.

  Gabriel took a couple of steps, stood in front of his son, and said, “Look at me.”

  Adrian, his mouth still covered, looked up at his father like a trapped fox.

  “I’ll give you one chance to tell me how, and more importantly why, this happened. If you lie…” his voice trailed off.

  Liberty knew Adrian had often told tales since he’d become a teenager, but before now it had been innocent. An issue of integrity. Not life and death.

  Gabriel gathered himself. “If you lie, so help me, I’ll take you to the woods myself.”

  Liberty held her breath. Gabriel hadn’t acted this way the previous year, on the night Sage disappeared. Maybe he finally could understand how she felt. Now it was his child whose life was at stake.

  Though the immediate danger Adrian had placed himself in had passed, there was still the little
matter of having to face Cutler. Liberty thought it was time Adrian be held accountable. Past time.

  Katie started to sob.

  Liberty enjoyed another wave of overdue justice. Good. Cry, Katie. How does it feel? Your son’s behavior finally hit home, huh? Liberty’s ears perked up when Adrian, the little Neanderthal, finally spoke.

  “I know this is bad.” Adrian took his hands away from his face. He appeared to be looking at the dead space between all of them, cleared his throat. “And I’m sorry I got caught, but I couldn’t help it. I saw her. A girl…” Adrian dropped his head again.

  Nathaniel yelled, the sound amplified in the small chamber, “Her? What’s her? You’ve risked our lives for some girl?”

  Gabriel grabbed onto Nathaniel’s arm to keep him from pouncing on the kid again. Liberty looked at Katie and saw her eyes dart between her son, brother, and husband like she was trying to keep track of a wasp.

  It was Adrian’s turn to raise his voice. “Not some girl, Nate. Sage. It was Sage.” Adrian’s voiced hitched. “And she was human.”

  “What did you just say?” Liberty heard her voice before her mind registered the response.

  “Sage. I saw her outside, as human. She was sitting with a boy at the pavilion near the campground.”

  You could’ve heard a bat wing flutter at the far end of the cavern.

  Liberty knew his mouth formed the words, her ears took them in, but she was having difficulty registering the meaning. The next she knew the walls closed in on her. The view got blurry and then she kissed the cold rock of the chamber floor. Sticky, sweet blood filled her mouth, her heartbeat drummed in her ears, and a pair of legs ran toward her.

  Chapter Five

  “Let her go, Lib,” Nathaniel said.

  She looked at him, then at Sage and Adrian standing under the ladder in the vestibule, and knew she was outnumbered. She tried anyway.

  “But it’s not dark, yet.”

  Nathaniel leaned against the corridor, arms crossed over his chest and looked at her like she was a silly bird, latched onto her chick’s wing as it fluttered against her in the nest. “I know.” He nodded toward the kids. “And they know the boundaries.”

  She looked at Adrian, the same age but shorter and leaner than Sage, and then eyed the burlap sack he intended to fill with greens and herbs, the ingredients for a special meal he planned to make later that evening. He was a budding chef, and rather good when you considered his limitations in cooking essentials.

  Raindrops pattered the hatch. Liberty looked at Nathaniel and pointed up. “What about the weather?”

  “It’s not acid, Lib, it’s water. It’s fine.” He grinned, enjoying the banter a little too much.

  “Yeah,” Adrian piped up. “Makes for easier pickings.” He shook the empty bag.

  Liberty looked at Sage. Her posture mimicked her father’s, arms crossed as if she were bored out of her mind. Dark, red hair fell past her shoulders, no longer kept in ponytails like she did as a young girl. Her green eyes were lined with black pencil. She looked like the models in the magazines she picked out of the donation bin.

  Sage rolled her eyes when Liberty remained silent and said, “C’mon, we’re not kids anymore, you know? This is getting embarrassing.” She stretched out a manicured hand and checked her nails. Exactly when had she gotten so snotty?

  Liberty opened her mouth to ask if Sage had finished her assignments, but shut it again. The ploy wouldn’t work. Lessons were put on hold any time family visited. Besides, she’d excelled. It was doubtful even a year without lessons would hinder her.

  And Sage was right, in a way. Liberty did overreact sometimes. Here were two cousins, headed outside for fun and some fresh air. No harm in it. But Liberty longed to hug her, to feel reassurance. They’d become so painfully distant lately.

  She sighed. “All right. Go.”

  “Thanks.” Adrian beamed. “We’ll be careful.”

  Sage’s expression hadn’t changed. She still looked perturbed, the norm for her lately. “I’m nearly sixteen, you know. You can’t keep me locked up here forever.” Sage took a deep breath like she planned to let loose with a long squawkfest.

  Liberty held up a hand for Sage to stop. “Don’t forget—”

  “Yeah, yeah, we got it.” Sage waved her mother off. “Twenty paces in from the east field.”

  Liberty nodded. “Away from the farmhouse. And north?”

  Adrian answered as he kicked off his shoes. “To the boulder near the creek.”

  Sage finished, “Fifty paces from the west. God, Mom, I know to stay away from the freaking road—”

  “That’s enough, Sage,” Nathaniel interrupted the beginnings of a rant, which they’d been getting a lot of lately. “Just go before I change my mind.”

  Knowing better than to argue with her father, Sage huffed and turned around. Adrian stood in his skivvies, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and waited for her to leave the area. Apparently even he was growing up.

  “Be careful. And come home if it starts lightening,” Liberty warned as Nathaniel pulled her away.

  He put his arm around her and they walked down the corridor together, listening to Sage as she mocked Adrian for being polite and then muttered something Liberty felt certain was unpleasant. Sounds carried in the cavern, though she didn’t think her daughter cared.

  She looked up at Nathaniel with a mixture of worry and hurt in her eyes and he pulled her tighter to him.

  “I can’t get used to them going off alone,” she lowered her voice and looked back over her shoulder. “I mean, look at Adrian, he’s worse than me. He carries a salad bag for crying out loud. Hardly any protection for our daughter.”

  “Shh.” Nathaniel looked down at her and chuckled. “I don’t think she needs any.”

  He had a fair point. Sage took after Nathaniel, strength and fearlessness ran through her blood. Liberty was the opposite. She’d spot a bunny nibbling on clover, and by the time she’s pointed out how cute it looked twitching its nose, Sage would be holding up dinner by its ears, its neck snapped.

  The only thing Liberty killed were insects. And then, only if they’d found a way into her bed chamber. She sighed. “You’re right, I guess.”

  “Come on, little hen, let’s visit with our guests. Maybe share some of the wine you’ve been saving. Before you know it…” He stopped outside the sitting chamber where Katie and Gabriel waited and gave her a wet, sloppy kiss that made her giggle. “Your girl will be home.”

  * * *

  Two glasses of wine and an hour later, Liberty couldn’t understand Adrian’s babble.

  “Liberty.” Adrian burst into the cavern, naked, out of breath, and dripping. “We were run…” He paused. “It was out past the creek--”

  “Whoa, slow down.” Liberty stopped him, looking over his shoulder. Sage wasn’t behind him. Liberty’s scalp tingled, burned. She moved him aside and started down the corridor. “Sage?” Fear crawled up her back, tightened around her neck. Her voice croaked, “Sage!”

  Adrian grabbed her arm and looked at her, eyes wild. “I’m trying to tell you. Sage fell down the embankment.”

  “What?” Liberty yelled, running toward the vestibule. Looking back over her shoulder, she screamed for Adrian to get Nathaniel, but Nathaniel had already appeared.

  “Adrian? Liberty?”

  She noted the alarm in his voice and heard Adrian begin to tell him what happened, but kept moving.

  Reaching the entry, she saw a fresh puddle of water at the base of the ladder, and looked up to see the hatch wide open. She stripped as she climbed, letting her clothes fall into the wetness.

  She was still four rungs from the top when she flung herself to the surface. No time to wait for her senses to give the all clear. She snarled as she rose to her feet and took off toward the creek.

  She stopped after a minute, leaned against a tree for support and contemplated the idea of heading in the opposite direction, toward the farmhouse. She could ask
Mitch for help.

  Then she remembered. He was busy making arrangements for Ellie’s funeral.

  Liberty wavered with indecision, wondered how this could have happened. Ellie dead one day, and Sage injured the next. It had to be a serious injury. Adrian wouldn’t have come home without her otherwise. Liberty shook her head and pushed away from the tree. She needed to get to her daughter.

  Taking a shortcut, Liberty headed north, the straightest way to the creek. It wasn’t the easiest, brush and new pine growth hindered her progress, but she ducked and dodged her way through the foliage, snapping more than a few saplings on her way. She’d not even made it a quarter of the distance when Nathaniel caught up, and then quickly passed her by.

  The creek snaked its way east-west, close to the rear boundary of their woods and during this time of the year, early fall, it could be hurdled in a single bound. The ravine sat a couple hundred yards north of there, and as she leapt across, Liberty felt her fear morph into anger.

  Why hadn’t Adrian and Sage listened? She’d specifically told them to stay within the creek’s boundary. They knew better. When they got Sage back home and patched up, the two teens had better have good answers.

  As she crested a small hill and neared the steep embankment, she saw Nathaniel, shrouded in a dark aura, pacing near the ridge. She growled in fear and frustration. He turned, motioning for her to hurry. What was he doing? Why hadn’t he gone over? She rushed to his side, looked over the edge, and understood.

  Dusk had fallen, but her Sasquatch-aided nocturnal vision let her see clear to the bottom. The chasm did not hold an injured body.

  Sage’s scent had diminished in the downpour, but there were signs of the path she’d taken down the steep slope. The skid marks and matted greenery were plainly visible through the overgrowth. Sage still had some growing to do, but at fifteen, she stood over seven feet tall in her Sasquatch form. Liberty scanned the entire length of the base, looking for something she had missed, but Sage wasn’t visible anywhere at the bottom.