The Indians intentionally encouraged the colonists to stay beside the creek because they knew a handful of their people, other refugees, had established in a valley just beyond the woods, and waited for them. First one, and then the other, took the opportunity when matters became especially raucous and slipped away into the shadows. They probably would have gotten away unseen, except the smaller of the two, the one missing an eyebrow, tripped over a pitcher as he made off with a bag of silver.
* * *
Liberty gave a wan smile, it was almost perfect. Except the smaller Indian hadn’t been missing an eyebrow, but rather an eye. Just as Sarah had told it to her, she’d passed the legend on to her own daughter.
She skimmed the rest.
* * *
The colonists, both the men and the women, gave chase. Grabbed up weapons, followed the rogue Indians through the forest, down into the valley, and launched a frenzied attack against the tiny establishment. Outnumbered, the Indian tribe was slaughtered in swift fashion. Afterward, the colonists raided what little the Indian tribe had for possessions. With blood lust and greed in their eyes, they gathered up fur blankets, calf skins filled with sweet wine, dried meat, and along with the recovered silver, hauled the supplies back to their camp.
When they arrived, Joshua’s wife, Constance, discovered a young Indian woman had escaped somehow and made it inside their campsite.
They surrounded her, kicked and stabbed her countless times with knives that still dripped with her kinsmen’s blood. Without remorse, they left the body where it crumpled to the ground, a short distance from the campfire.
They rejoiced at their good fortune. Laughed, rolled around on the fur and drank themselves full of the tribes’ spirits until they collapsed in a state of oblivion. Each believed they were dreaming when the young Indian woman rose from the dead.
They heard the sound of a drum, and watched in mild amusement as the wounds in her chest gaped and puckered with every beat. She flashed in and out of their sight. Quick as they’d turn, she’d appear in front of another. She began to sway, a most provocative dance, and sang words they didn’t understand. But her voice, a soothing harmony, calmed their fears.
Behind them, the woods burned, but they saw it as an incredible sunset. Fire flowed down the river and they yearned to jump into the current. Their children screamed, a joyous hymn to their ears, as the fire reached and then engulfed the lean-to. As if they’d imbibed on too much goodness and their bodies couldn’t handle another minute of it, they each fell into a deep slumber, dreaming of a Promised Land.
Constance--the first to come to--found herself surrounded by beasts. She thought it was a nightmare at first, until she stood up and saw her own arm, large and covered in fur. With trepidation, she looked down at the rest of herself and screamed. Only it came out a roar and woke the other beasts. Amid a flurry of fear and chaos, they began to attack one another.
There were a few casualties before they eventually scattered. Some fled to the woods, others down the creek and into the water. All sought answers, but none were found. Over the span of days, they came to the realization they’d been changed, cursed somehow, and the survivors banded together for comfort.
Later in winter, when they stumbled upon a cave, they discovered they transformed back into human form when they went below the ground’s surface. They searched far and wide for other caves and, over the years, established settlements in several caverns.
They mourned the loss of their children, eaten up with guilt and shame. Of both, what they did, and failed to do. Over time, they had more children, likewise cursed, likewise banished to earthen hells.
* * *
Liberty shut the book, placed it back into the bin, pulled up the collar of her sweatshirt to absorb her tears and got up from the bean bag. She blew out the candle and exited just in time to hear Nathaniel arrive home.
The echo from the hatch sounded and she retreated to the guest chamber across the corridor, no desire to bump into him.
She’d barely made it to the cot when he poked his head inside. “You got a minute?”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
He stepped inside, but stayed near the doorway, standing solely in a pair of flannel boxers and suede slippers. “I stopped at the farmhouse to fill Mitch in. Let him know Katie and them left right away.”
Chilled, Liberty pulled the quilt up around her shoulders. Part of the Sasquatch curse was general good health. She was never cold, but it seemed like ever since his sister showed up, her health had deteriorated. Stress caused all kinds of quirks for the Sasquatch.
“He doing okay?” she asked. “Did he have anything new to report?”
Nathaniel motioned to the lawn chair next to the door. “Do you mind?”
“Go ahead.” She tossed him a throw blanket from her cot.
He laid it over the plastic and sat. “Thanks. He’s the same. He sent an email to the guy who sent the picture disputing the validity of it. He’s hoping to buy some time before he has to give in and post it.”
Mitch authored a popular website, reportedly to keep track of Sasquatch sightings. More beneficially, it kept her and Nathaniel aware of search party schedules.
She changed the subject, afraid she might let something slip about Adrian, “Did he show you the slideshow?”
“No.” Nathaniel looked down at his feet, crossed his ankles, then uncrossed them. “I just stopped in to update him like he asked, and he seemed pretty tired so I didn’t stay long.”
“Yeah, maybe some other time.” It would have to be some other time really soon, though.
She bristled. Small talk was a complete waste of time, dancing around the important stuff. She faked a yawn and reclined.
“Okay, well I’m going to get a bite to eat.” He got the hint. Standing up, he brought the blanket over and laid it across her legs. “Stay warm.”
Stay sane would be better advice. Liberty dimmed the lantern and shut her eyes, willed a deep sleep to knock her out.
* * *
Liberty slept off and on, visions of ancestors and butchers and long walks with guarded escorts permeated her dreams. She awoke to the smell of a cook fire, thankful it was finally time to go. Nathaniel lay back on the futon he’d built in the sitting chamber, reading an almanac or some other earthy magazine. He looked up when she entered.
“I’m leaving,” she said.
He nodded.
“Becky wants to rearrange the kennel setup for supplies she’s bringing in. I promised I’d go in and help.” Liberty felt the need to explain, and it wasn’t a complete lie. They had put it on the to-do list. It just wasn’t on tonight’s list.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Okay then, I’ll pass on breakfast. Maybe Becky and I can get a head start.” Yes. That sounded believable.
He looked back down at his magazine. “See ya.”
Great. As she headed toward the vestibule, she realized she’d broken out in a sweat. She wiped her upper lip where the droplets had formed. How he hadn’t seen through the story, was beyond her. All she knew for sure was she better have good news to report back after she met with Adrian. At least then the lies wouldn’t have been in vain.
Chapter Eight
When Liberty arrived at the kennel, Becky filled her in.
“Lindy’s at the house with Mitch. I told her I had a few errands and she said she’d be happy to sit with him until I get back. She didn’t even ask why,” Becky winked, “thank goodness for that.” She motioned Liberty toward her desk.
Liberty walked toward her, took a deep breath and exhaled, “I feel really nervous,” she held a hand against her chest, “and my heart’s beating like a hummingbird’s wings.”
“Hey, you’re allowed to be nervous. It’s your first ride, right?”
Liberty nodded. “I don’t know any of us that have done it before.”
Becky snapped her fingers, “Easy peasy. You’ll be fine. And before I forget,” she rummaged through her sequin-covered purse
, pulled out the photo of Sage and laid it on the desk, “I asked some people at The River and the Post Office, but no one has seen her. Or anyone that looks like her.”
“No one?”
“Well, nobody I talked to,” Becky put a big smile on her face, “but it doesn’t mean she isn’t out there. Right?”
“I hope so,” Liberty corrected herself, “I think she is.”
“Good. Then we’ll keep with our plan. Remember everything?”
They went over the itinerary a few times the day before. “I’m pretty sure.”
“All right,” Becky pulled Liberty through the door behind her desk and into the stairwell, “wait here and I’ll start unloading the boxes.”
Becky had backed her truck up to kennel’s side door, and was going to pretend to unload supplies. All the boxes were empty. She figured it would give Liberty good cover and less walking to the truck.
After Becky carried the last parcel into the storage room of the kennel, she looked down the stairwell and motioned Liberty the all clear.
“Hey, hold on.” Becky held up a hand and spun in a circle, showing off her all black hoodie and pants ensemble. “Does this look okay?”
Liberty rolled her eyes, “You look fine.”
“You sure? The pants don’t make me look fat?”
“Seriously, you look good.”
The impatience on Liberty’s face and in her voice must have come through because Becky said, “Sorry. I’ve just never been on a stake-out before. All I know is you’re supposed to wear black. Oh, and you gotta bring binoculars. Which I did. They’re in the truck.” She beamed, obviously proud of herself for the preparations she’d made.
“Good, good.” Liberty shooed her. “Now go, would you?”
It wasn’t like Becky hadn’t see her in Sasquatch form before, but it was the first time close-up and Liberty felt utterly naked and incredibly ugly. The whole reason she wanted Becky to keep her back turned.
“Okay, all clear,” Becky said in a muffled voice from above.
Liberty transformed on the fourth step from the top and hurried toward the back of the vehicle. She bent over and scooted inside. The truck bed bounced, made a squeak, and Becky giggled. Liberty shifted her very large behind back as far as she could, and then tapped the side of the bed.
Becky came out, closed the kennel door behind her. Lifting up the tailgate, she looked in and winked like there wasn’t a monster in her bed. Liberty gave her the dirtiest look she could muster—a cross between a pucker and a snarl—as Becky slammed it shut.
Liberty had tried to prepare herself for her first ride, remembered what she’d been told to expect. She waited. The engine turned over. That wasn’t so bad. The exhaust drifted in the cap a bit. Unpleasant, but not awful. Then the truck started to move. Liberty tensed, her heart rate spiked. She tapped urgently on the window.
Becky stopped, turned around, and looked at Liberty through the glass, eyebrows raised. “Is there a problem?” Liberty nodded weakly.
Becky sighed, unlocked the window, and slid it open. “We’ve gone like two feet.”
Liberty nodded again.
“There’s no reason to be afraid. We’ve been over this, right? Here.” She reached down and came up with the phone in her hand. “Remember how to use it?”
Liberty took the phone, resisted the urge to answer for fear of scaring the daylights out of Becky, and nodded.
“This, too,” Becky said, handing Liberty the stylus.
Liberty took it, but it felt as tiny as a pine needle, nothing like a pen. With difficulty, Liberty typed on the phone before handing it to Becky.
Becky took it and after she read it, cocked an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
Liberty didn’t answer.
Becky gave her a sideways glance. “No. You don’t look fat. Now try to relax,” she said, then put the truck back in gear and pulled away again, this time more slowly.
Liberty released a shaky breath, watched out through the front window. Doing so didn’t make her half as dizzy.
They pulled out of Mitch’s driveway and hung a right on the blacktop. She focused on the road and ignored the tiny voice in her head that told her she was heading to a place of no return. If anyone at Proem discovered her little adventure, and if it went wrong, she may as well keep on going.
She’d given the directions to Becky the day before and she didn’t even have to write them down. Becky said it was quicker her way, and she was right. A little trip that took her nearly four hours to navigate, took Becky twenty minutes.
They pulled off the edge of the road. Becky shut off the engine and turned around in her seat. “Okay, we’re here. I’ll wait for a minute, then put on my flashers. Those are the blinker lights that indicate to other vehicles I’m here so they don’t hit me.” She pointed over her shoulder, out her window. “If I followed your directions right, that’s where you need to go. Are we good?”
Liberty nodded, handed her the phone. As she did, their hands touched and Becky didn’t flinch. When Liberty pulled her hand away, Becky said, “Wait a minute. Give me your hand.”
Perplexed, Liberty put it back through, and Becky latched on. Her aura, royal blue tonight, mingled with Becky’s pearly white one. Becky pet the top of Liberty’s hand where the fur was thicker, then flipped it over to the smooth skin of the palm and caressed it. Liberty almost felt human, started to choke up. Liberty pulled her hand away gently and Becky looked up and smiled.
“Thanks for letting me touch you, Liberty.”
Becky jumped out of the cab, walked to the rear of the truck and opened the hatch, “One more thing.” She peered in at Liberty. “If you hear me honk the horn, don’t come back out.”
Liberty waited until Becky got back into the truck before leaning toward the open end. She sniffed the air. No humans nearby, other than her chauffeur. The scent of tar, hay, and, she suspected, some kind of street meat down the road—country air at its finest. She lifted her nose, yep, a woodchuck picked half-clean by crows was her guess. And she was rarely wrong about her street meat.
She slid out of the bed, the truck lifting a couple of inches and squeaking again. Good grief, how much did she weigh?
Liberty peeked up and down the road, dashed across, jumped the ditch, and ran into the woods. A minor adjustment to the north, and she was on the right path. Becky had almost judged it perfectly.
As she became familiar with the woods, her heart started to race. The excitement of her first ride had masked the real reason she was there. How could she have forgotten her purpose? Adrian.
Liberty took off at full speed, leapt over fallen trees and ducked under heavy boughs. She searched overhead for the pitch, knew she should see it any minute. A crash made her jump. Then another crash off to the right. She stopped dead. Had she let her defenses drop? She settled down trying to detect danger. She panned the woods for auras, human or otherwise, and found there were none.
In the darkness a loud pop sounded to the right of her. She crouched on instinct. The tall weeds parted and a herd of deer broke through the brush directly in front of her. A young buck with a touch of velvet on his antlers, as surprised to see her as she was him, bounded over the top of her, a hoof just missing her head. A stampede.
Little whitetails flapped, and she watched the herd as it made its way toward the road where the truck was parked. She wondered if it would startle Becky much as it had her. As long as she didn’t mistakenly beep, they’d be okay.
Chapter Nine
She saw the pitch near the rendezvous and approached with caution. Unable to sense Adrian, her stomach twisted. Something was amiss. She sniffed the air and detected a hint of cigarette smoke. Maybe he had taken up the habit.
Sasquatch teenagers weren’t much different from human ones, other than the obvious, and they all went through phases of rebellion. Smoking was sometimes a part of it, but because her daughter prided herself on appearances, Liberty didn’t believe she would try it. A wishful thought, but at that
point she’d have given up her pardon to see Sage hunkered down behind some log puffing away.
She took another few steps toward the rendezvous, felt a buzz in the air as it penetrated every hair follicle. She sent out a feeler but sensed no humans. Some type of electronic device was nearby, though. A mild current. Maybe a dropped cell phone. A mounted trail camera.
She needed to keep her guard up, to bustle, until she figured out exactly what it was. She eyed the hatch of the tiny cavern about ten yards away. The spot was matted. It had been disturbed recently. She moved forward cautiously, one foot at a time.
Step, stop, sense, repeat.
As she got closer, the disruption around the entrance became clearer, but the buzz faded. So she retraced the path she’d taken and moved east, toward the road. The sensation got stronger.
She got down on all fours and crawled forward, then laid flat. The device hadn’t been dropped, she knew that much. At ground level she lost the signal entirely. She stood up and it resumed. A few more paces and there it was. Mounted at eye level, seven feet high, was a tiny black camera, aimed toward the ground. She reached around from the side of it to keep her arm out of the lens, snapped the camera off the branch, put it on the ground, and stomped on it.
She gathered up the pieces and hauled them away. Rolling a rather large mossy log, she dug a hole, and buried the evidence, rolling the log back on top.
She’d wasted too much time. Hopefully Adrian had not arrived early and left thinking she wasn’t going to show. Liberty hurried to the hatch, lifted it, sat down on the edge, and slipped in.
A quick, shallow drop and she stood there as human. Painless, with hardly a wobble.
As soon as she developed her voice, she called out in a whisper, “Adrian? It’s me, Liberty.”
Forsaken - An American Sasquatch Tale Page 8
