Standing on her knees, Blaze turned to see a figure moving in behind Rick. Large, dark and swift. It did not pause or fight to maintain balance as it advanced its crippled, disjointed march. Blaze screamed, reaching out as Rick made a final jump to reach the edge.
Rushing forward, Ren dropped to one knee and began firing over Rick’s head as he tried to slow the steady approach of the Cryptid. In a moment, suspended, the creature ran at a sideways lope.
Firing again, Blaze and Cindy watched as Rick assisted Ren, taking aim, even as the weather turned against them and veiled the creature’s advance. Waiting, listening, everyone froze- and then the weather broke once more.
Ahead of them, the dark creature stopped on the bridge, tilting its head, watching them. Ren fired again and the creature backed up, enveloped by the weather. It disappeared. Blaze felt herself being pulled to her feet. Together they all ran toward an icy spiral leading down into the cavernous blue below, into Wolf Canyon.
“The secret to being unafraid of the darkness is to challenge the darkness to fear you, to raise your eyes sharp to those few souls who stagger by, daring them to believe that you are not, in fact, more frightening than they are.”
― Claire North
~ Sixteen~
There was no time for pause, no time to catch their breath. And even if Blaze had needed to, she would not have requested it. Not with Shelby's mother showing substantial grit and determination in the face of rescuing her daughter.
Although Blaze quietly resented that they were rushing through yet another treacherous access route, she gritted her teeth in silence, trying to recall her past. Trying to recall if social work had in fact had been as difficult as she'd thought it was. If it had truly been the source of her illness.
Peering up, she studied the slick ice walls surrounding them as they descended the canyon. Blaze longed for her old metal desk overflowing with paperwork in the windowless office she had been confined to when not in the field.
Holding up her hand, she noted nature had provided nothing for them to hold on to as they moved their gloved palms over the well-worn and deadly ice ledge leading them to the bottom. No naturally formed banister guided their descent. Rick had stated they could only safely reach the canyon via the menacing ice spiral created by nature.
A deadly kaleidoscope of icicles and water frozen over colored rock, there was very little option to go back the same way due to the slope of the ice. It created a potentially lethal ice slide; treacherous to try to navigate upward. To leave the canyon later, they would have to exit through the trees to the North; dangerous for its own reasons in that the dark forest was the perfect camouflage for the Cryptids. Despite all its dangers, the ice trail was still considered the safest route to the camp.
Blaze exhaled slowly, trying to pace the adrenaline seeping into her bloodstream. Each team member’s scuffs, breaths and soft gasps reverberated from the dark ice walls around them. They created eerie echoes which Blaze and Bixley were not always certain belonged only to them. A new urgency dictated the velocity at which they moved. Being trapped in the narrow descending eye of the canyon would prove to be fatal if the Cryptid, the Croatoan, chose to pursue them. Blaze recalled the creature’s behavior on the bridge. If anyone had doubted the existence of the creatures before, no one doubted them now
It had considered them. Thoughtfully. Intellectually. It had perhaps even pushed them, rushed them, and then backed off. A knowing coursed through her mind and slowed her steps.
Refusing to look over the ledge of the rock and ice spiral, they worked their way down. She replayed the scene again in her mind. Now and then a foot would move too far and the team would pause until one person or another would regain their balance, as well as their confidence. There were no ropes to prevent their fall, as had been the case with the bridge. Unsteady as that had been, at least they had something to grab for as they crossed, reassuring their survival-driven minds that holding something was better than holding nothing.
As sounds of their shuffles carried in the ice cavern, it was obvious why the route they'd taken was a one way ticket. Looking back up behind her, she watched the relentless spiral towering upward. Light leaked in just ahead and she realized they were approaching an opening to the canyon. Relief flooded her bloodstream.
Grateful for her final step back onto the ice-packed ground, Blaze took a shaky deep breath. She squinted her eyes against the light the ice stairs shielded them from. Rubbing her forehead, she uttered a gratitude for not experiencing an attack during the life and death situations they had just come through. If anything, her inner monster seemed to thrive on crisis.
Fresh air moved across the peak as they stepped out of the descending snow and ice stairs, breaking her reverie. Looking up, she caught her breath. There, below them, spread out within a protected ice cradle in the heart of Wolf Canyon was their camp.
Ren ran his hands over his head, scratching at his scalp, smiling tiredly. An element of pride glimmered in his eyes as he surveyed the impromptu set up below them.
“Welcome to Camp Snow Globe.”
Taking a step forward Blaze blinked. Bixley murmured something low under her breath. Spread out below them in a perfect circular pattern were bubble-shaped objects. Small circular tents, the likes of which Blaze had never seen before, were white from the ground up to about seven feet. Then the plastic turned clear, forming the dome in the bubble pattern, giving the effect of skylights. The novelty tents dominated the small, icy canyon bottom, where activity seemed to be happening everywhere, as if she had stepped through a portal into Narnia. Bixley laughed.
“I saw these tents on Pinterest!”
At the center of the camp, two considerably larger bubble-shaped structures stood separate. The camp itself faced the rising forest from the east, and the only possible exit from Wolf Canyon.
Blaze examined green laser lights gleaming around the perimeter of the circular encampment, forming a square pattern of light along the outside of the tents. At each corner of the small camp, huge spotlights had been erected, and while not yet lit, pointed upward, as though standing at attention.
Fire pits had been meticulously built in small circles between each of the nine white bubble tents to further dissuade predators, as well as for provision of warmth. The fires crackled compellingly as exotically dressed people moved to and fro, completing chores, arranging wires, and preparing food.
Two young women ran forward carrying hot drinks. Grateful, Blaze accepted a large wooden mug. She sip a hot, steaming brew carrying sharp tastes of honey, cinnamon and lemon. The ladies nodded, smiling and bowing briefly, before rushing back to work.
Holding her wooden mug close, Blaze turned to Cindy, who was cautiously setting up an alarm system at the opening of the ice tunnel they had just vacated. The camp coordinators themselves seemed to have extensive knowledge of electronics and alarms.
Everyone working within the camp bore the same dark hue to their skin as the man to Blaze's left. He remained near her even after the descent, smiling kindly and observing the camp with an obvious pride. Their dress too, was similar to his; leathers and furs, braided hair, quick smiles.
Blaze allowed her eyes to rove the camp. Nothing related to her journey with Matilda had turned out as she had expected, nor had it prepared her for this. As fatigue washed over her from her recent attack and then the arduous journey into the camp, she slowly made her way toward her own snow globe, directed by the kindly man who had saved her life. Blaze felt relief move through her weary muscles as she parted ways with Bixley and stooped down to enter the tent indicated to by her rescuer.
She passed through a low, rounded tunnel much like the entrance of a traditional igloo. Blaze stopped at the opening to her private quarters. A small bed, piled high with furs and a white down comforter beckoned from the center of the small heated space. Pillows in fur covers had been propped at the head of the bed. Beneath it, a rug of dark greens, reds and beige cushioned her feet.
Loo
king up through the plastic dome-shaped sky light, she raised her eyebrows, momentarily uncertain if she were on a rescue mission or a retreat. Trees swayed over the top of the clear dome as she sank down onto the bed, exhaling deeply.
A pitcher of water and a cup had been placed next to her bed on a small wooden table, as well as small sprig of sage which had been tied into a bundle with a bit of twine. Fingering the sage she lifted it, holding it close, inhaling the fresh scent. Closing her eyes a moment, she allowed the aroma to wash away the toxic memories of monsters and the missing.
As her own monster quietly retreated into its closet for rest as well, Blaze remained motionless, not sleeping, even though the comforter beckoned. Closing her eyes, she listened intently to the sounds of the camp around her, jumping when a young woman named Tara called to her from just outside.
Reaching the entrance, Blaze paused on the small mat that had been placed outside of her entrance and started to put on her boots. Tara held up her hands. “No, no. Rest. Rest now. We will wake you for dinner.”
Blaze nodded and watched as the smiling young woman moved on to the next structure, sharing the same information. She had lit a small lantern next to Blaze's bubble tent, which glowed brightly from behind frosted yellow glass encasing it.
Reluctant to sleep, but determined to conserve energy for her search, Blaze returned to her little dome-shaped interior. Yawning, she pulled back the covers to her bed and sank gratefully into it. Although she initially fought sleep, it was only moments before she was slumbering deeply, curled up, fighting with the faceless monsters that dominated her dreams.
Barely awake, still riding the edges of complete relaxation, Blaze had just lifted her heavy eyes when a commotion rang out across the camp. She stared upward, out of the clear upper skylight of her bubble tent. The others had made it in.
She listened from her warm, secure bedding as each were assigned varying snow globes, and informed they could rest after dinner was served. Blaze felt her eyes grow heavy, and she tugged at the white goose down comforter. As she did so, she overheard Bixley and Cindy speaking; Cindy was reassuring her Gordon would be safe. Her voice didn't indicate a dire circumstance, but both seemed to have cause to worry as they spoke.
Blinking, Blaze realized that meant Gordon had not accompanied the new arrivals by helicopter. Throwing back her comforter, Blaze pushed her weary body up from the warm bed.
Looking up and out of the clear portion of her tent, darkness pushed back, causing her to grimace. A soft lantern slowly brought light into her quarters as Tara called again. Her dark round eyes were lit with curiosity as she approached, smiling at Blaze who was sitting up slowly, pushing her hair back from her face. Gesturing toward the trunk at the end of her bed, the young woman smiled and began pulling out items of warm clothing for Blaze to wear. After displaying all that was available, Tara asked her to quickly join the others in the dining tent. The young girl clapped her hands, as if urging her to hurry, and left the igloo.
With tired muscles and a heavy heart, Blaze slowly began donning thermal underclothing, wool socks and insulated boots. She finished with thin leggings and a long-sleeved shirt made for subzero temperatures, a light blue parka with a furtrimmed hood, gloves and scarf. She assumed Ren had chosen light colors for the team to prevent drawing interest from the Dark Sasquatch during their expedition. As she stood to leave, she noticed there was even a light blue head band to protect her ears from the cold. She raised her eyebrows. Ren had thought of everything. Cindy hadn't exaggerated.
“Well, at least I’m monster hunting in style,” she muttered, pulling on the head band. Stooping over, she navigated her way down the narrow tunnel leading outside. Standing slowly, breathing in the fresh evening air, her eyes widened. The camp, cloaked in a velvety blackness, was impressively illuminated. Small lanterns adorned the entrances of each snow globe, including her own, as she had seen earlier. Between each, small fires continued to crackle. The green laser light that surrounded the camp earlier glowed brightly four feet above the ground. From all four corners of the camp, the huge spotlights moved on an auto program, swaying in different directions to illuminate the perimeter of the camp and the trees beyond.
Blaze felt her eyes sting with unshed tears. Matilda would have made fun of it all. She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. Somewhere, and perhaps close by, Shelby was likely trying to survive; Matilda would have wanted that. That would have been her focus. That, and the in-depth research she would have used to rescue Shelby.
Sighing, Blaze made her way toward the dining hall, following the scent of food. The preparedness Ren and Cindy had shown for the expedition was exceptional. Serving people swerved past Blaze as she carefully moved through the camp.
A huge fire monopolized its center, boasting recently downed timbers for seating in a hexagonal shape around the large blaze. The scent of food wafted from one of the larger white tents, and as Blaze rounded the corner to the opening, she paused. Inside were all of the expedition participants, lounging at various tables which were as white as the interior of the tent itself. If Blaze hadn’t known better she would’ve thought she’d awakened on an alien planet, complete with all the amenities one was used to on Earth.
Rick spotted her from the table where he sat going over paperwork with Ren and Cindy. Bixley was seated with them; she looked up and waved. Thick white mugs filled with steaming brew were used as weights for the corners of maps they were pouring over.
Blaze approached the table, almost reluctant. Her mind raced. This was monster hunting on a whole new level. A level she was not prepared for. She could tell from the sharp light in Rick’s eyes that he was in his element. Suddenly she longed for her dark, quiet tent.
Pausing in her approach, she backed up and turned toward the entrance. She started to exit, hoping to go unnoticed when she felt a hand on her arm. “Where you off to, Sparky?”
Blaze turned and met Rick’s eyes. His hand prevented her departure. She pondered the idea of knocking his hand away and leaving quietly.
“Sparky?” Her dry tone made it clear she was not on board with the nickname he'd elected for her. Rick’s eyes danced as he watched her annoyance mount. “Yeah. I figured you could use a nick name. It’s a play-off “Blaze”…you know, sparks from a fire? Sparky?”
Swallowing, Blaze regarded his pleasure in himself. “Good one.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Anyway, you have to eat, and then we're gathering out by the fire after. Come on.” Blaze approached the small cafeteria-like counter, smiling at the young man working there who smiled broadly back. He sported the same dark skin and exotic looks as the others under Ren's employ. He passed a plate across to Blaze. Observing it was something with rice, her stomach rumbled, and she realized she didn’t care what the ‘something’ was. She took the white mug of hot tea and her plate back over to where Ren, Cindy, Bixley and Rick waited.
“What strange places our lives can carry us to, what dark passages.” Justin Cronin
~Seventeen ~
Blaze ventured out of the dining tent toward the large fire, sweeping the camp with her tired eyes in search of Sheriff Walker. Walking alongside Bixley, several people in furs and leather greeted them as they gravitated to the warmth. People were casting occasional glances over their shoulders toward the darkness just outside the camp. It felt strange to be out in the open at all following the events of the past week, and Blaze hunched forward, extending her fingers to the flames just beyond her seat next to Bixley.
“Mind if I sit here?”
Blaze recognized Walker’s voice and turned, relieved.
“Where have you been?” Stretching his legs out toward the fire, he nodded toward the north of the camp where several of the coordinators were gathered, working on something just below the slow incline toward the trees.
“I was talking with Max.”
Blaze raised her eyebrows, clueless as to who Max was. Walker chuckled and greeted Bixley who leaned forward. “Yeah, who’s Max?
” “The guy that saved your life up there today.” He jerked his thumb back toward the opening of the spiral ice stairs, where another gleaming green laser had been installed by Cindy.
Blaze frowned. “His name is Max?”
Laughing, Walker raised an eyebrow. “You have a better name in mind?”
Bixley snorted. “Sounds like a pretty white bread name for a bad ass.”
Blaze watched as the nearly toothless man smiled and waved in her direction. “Yeah, I think we should call him Super Max at least.” Walker smiled. “I thanked him for saving you. He’s got a fascinating life story. He was raised at the base of Mt. Everest and brought into the family business at fourteen as a Sherpa. That's where Ren found him and recruited him, and all of his extended family to run his camps.”
They were all extremely efficient. Blaze watched as two stoked up the large fire where she and Walker were sitting with Bixley.
“I guess he’s had his share of encounters with the Everest Yeti, and several other Sasquatch-like creatures since signing on with Ren. This stuff is old hat to him.”
Bixley snorted. “Good, cause it's scaring the hell outta me.” A spark flew off a chunk of wood, spiraling out in the direction of Walker’s boot. Blaze remained thoughtful, absorbing what Walker had shared about Max. It made sense now. He seemed so sure footed on the ice when she felt her own feet refusing to cooperate the entire way to base camp.
Looking around before speaking, she leaned toward Walker, whispering as Bixley visited with a young woman working on the large fire. “I overheard Cindy and Bixley from my tent earlier. The walls are pretty thin. They both sounded worried about Gordon.”
Someone jogged past them and Walker pulled his cowboy hat lower over his head. “Seems Gordon refused to take the helicopter. He's traveling the North Ridge to follow the clues Shelby's been leaving behind. He's on horseback.”
Wolf Canyon: Cold Cat Mountain Book II (Cold Cat Mountain Trilogy 2) Page 9
