The Veritas Codex Series, #1

by Betsey Kulakowski

  “Our Yeti episode was the number one most-watched reality show of all time.”

  “All we found was a footprint in the snow. And the cast broke in shipping!” She looked over her friend’s shoulder and out the window, as completely devoid of emotion as the gray sky.

  Bahati threw up her hands in disgust. “We had more people show up for our panel discussion at Comic-Con than the cast of The Walking Dead.”

  “So?”

  “So, we’re the anchor show for Friday night programming on the Exploration Channel. They’d be stupid to cancel our show. We make a lot of money for the Network.”

  “It’s not enough. It’s never enough.” Lauren felt too weak to sit up anymore. She curled up against the head of the bed. “Ratings have been falling. Critics blast us at every turn. I needed that stupid little headless chicken man thing. I needed it to fix this.” She gestured vaguely, sucked in a deep breath, then trembled as she let it out. “Stupid Peruvian government. Can you imagine what our ratings would be like if we could have proven that thing was extraterrestrial?”

  Bahati straightened and narrowed her brow. “Shame on you, Lauren Grayson.” She shook her finger at her boss. “Since when has our job been about proving headless chicken things were aliens? You preach it to us all the time. We’re doing this to find the truth. It’s not about revealing aliens or ghosts or proving monsters exist. Hoax or myth, fact or fiction. Finding the answers is our mission, period. You’ve lost your focus, Lauren. Don’t let them do that to you. Stick to the founding principle of our work—the truth.”

  Lauren’s face twisted sarcastically. “The truth doesn’t make for good television.”

  “If you’re dead, you won’t make for good television either. Now will you please forget about going home and stay where you belong? You don’t look so hot.”

  Lauren wanted to put up a fight. She wasn’t one to let an argument go so easily. At the moment, her strength was waning. She decided to bide her time, for now. When they left her alone long enough, she’d get dressed, sign out AMA and call for an Uber. At least, that was the plan.

  Chapter 4

  The doctors decided their treatments weren’t enough to cleanse her blood of the toxins. Although she wasn’t getting worse, she wasn’t getting better, either.

  “I think a blood transfusion or two are in order,” the doctor said the next afternoon. “We’ve tried adding a protein to increase the production of white blood cells, but it would appear your red blood cells are low too.”

  Lauren whimpered. “I can’t keep going like this.”

  “Hold tight.” He patted her arm. “We’re going to get you feeling better, but you have to do your part.”

  “What’s that?” Lauren rolled her head towards him.

  “Rest, eat well, drink lots of fluids ...”

  “If it gets me out of this lumpy bed faster, I’ll do whatever you tell me.”

  “Those are my orders.”

  Lauren raised a shaky hand toward her brow. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

  * * *

  As soon as Rowan picked her up from the hospital to take her home a week later, she insisted he stop by the studio so she could record her voiceover for the episode in post-production. He protested, but realized arguing would only make things worse, so he acquiesced. Fortunately, it didn’t take long. Lauren was a pro.

  Lauren’s apartment on Ambrosia Drive featured floor-to-ceiling windows that brightened the rooms and provided spectacular views of the city surrounded by palm trees and hills. The pool outside her patio seemed to stretch to the horizon, meeting the ocean. She plopped down on the sofa as Rowan placed her suitcases by the bedroom door.

  “Jean-René made soup and brought it over last night. I think there’s some French bread too, if you’re hungry.”

  “I’m tired,” she admitted. “I thought after spending a week in bed that I’d be more anxious to do stuff, but all I can think of is a nap.”

  “So, take a nap.”

  Lauren didn’t move to the bedroom. She sank more deeply into the sofa, staring out the window. “I can’t keep going like this.” Her shoulders slumped as she lay her head in her hand.

  “You won’t,” he said. “This too shall pass.”

  “What are we doing with the show?”

  He sat down across from her, running his hand through his mop of rusty-brown hair, tugging at it as he groaned. “We keep looking for the truth.”

  “What if we never find it?”

  He turned and looked away, staring out the window rather than looking at her. “I don’t know.” He stood and paced to the kitchen. “I guess we find something else to do.”

  “I don’t want to end up working for a university...it got me my PhD, but I hated being stuck in a lab all day.”

  Rowan came over and put his hand on her back. “We’ll figure something out. I sure don’t wanna be an EMT again, and I sure ain’t going to work at Burger King.” That made Lauren laugh through her tears. “Now, go lie down and get some rest. This is the worst possible time to try and make any decision, when you’re tired like this.”

  Lauren nodded, reaching for a tissue to dry her eyes.

  “I’ll come back by this evening and check on you.”

  “No,” Lauren caught his hand as he started to leave. “Please. Don’t go.”

  A little surprised, Rowan nodded and helped her to her feet. He took her to bed and lay down beside her, letting her use his shoulder for a pillow. Her leg snaked over his as she melted into him.

  “What’s our next investigation?”

  “We were supposed to go to Washington State,” he said, surprise ebbing away. “They’ve had some recent alleged Bigfoot activity.”

  “Wonder if Bigfoot will be as helpful as his cousins, the Yeti, were. Maybe they’ll leave us better prints.”

  “You’re not up to traveling yet, least of all a hike through the mountains at high elevations. You saw what the altitude did to Bahati. And she was healthy.”

  Lauren nodded against his chest. “We need to start planning, at least. We should be ready to go as soon as we can.”

  “Maybe in a couple of weeks.” Rowan bit his tongue. For her, everything was job, job, job. “You need time to mend.”

  “I will do nothing but rest for the next few weeks.” She yawned. “I promise. Will you get with the Network and make travel arrangements?”

  Rowan stiffened, but as always, he gave in to her. “Sure.”

  * * *

  Much to his surprise, Lauren did exactly what she had promised. She spent most of her time in bed, though with her iPad, reviewing the remaining video and photos from Peru from every camera and every angle. If she wasn’t curled up in bed, she was stretched out on the sofa. Rowan brought all her meals and tidied the apartment. One afternoon he came in with Chinese food. She seemed more her old self, and that put a big grin on his face.

  “When are we leaving for Spokane?” She fidgeted with the tassel on the sofa cushion.

  “I’m still waiting for word from the Network. Maybe in three or four weeks. The weather should be better by then, though it’s still early in the season. We’ll see. Do you think you’ll have a doctor’s release by the end of the month?”

  Lauren nodded. “I’ve got a follow-up appointment next week. I feel tons better and I’m getting restless.” She joined him at the table. “There’s just so much to be done here before we leave.”

  “It’s being done,” he insisted. “You don’t have to worry about any of it. All the samples were sent off. We’ve reviewed all the film footage and other evidence, but we haven’t come to any kind of a consensus yet. The team will handle the analysis.”

  “I’ve been looking at the video, but ... I’m just as stumped as you are.”

  “Maybe the lab will have better luck.”

  She inhaled the perfume that wafted from the plate, taking the chopsticks out of the paper wrappers, snapping them apart. “Mm I smell egg rolls.”

  Rowan placed o
ne on the plate in front of her. “I’m glad to see you getting your appetite back.”

  His phone rang as he was about to sit down. He noted the number on the Caller ID. Odd that the lab would call so late. “Rowan Pierce.” He left Lauren to her feast and took his phone call out to the patio, closing the door behind him.

  “Hey, Rowan. It’s Glenn. What the hell is this stuff y’all sent me to analyze?”

  “We were hoping you’d tell us.”

  Rowan turned his back so Lauren couldn’t see his reaction, just in case she was watching. He tried to be casual as he leaned on the railing overlooking the pool.

  “I’ve got three lab technicians in the hospital with radiation poisoning and I’ve had to move the samples into containment. I can’t even get them analyzed to find out what kind of radioactive materials they contain. I don’t have the resources for that here.”

  Rowan tensed straight up. “That explains a lot. Lauren carried the samples. She did all the evidence collection.”

  “She’s not sick, is she?”

  “She spent a week in the hospital. We never put two and two together.”

  “Well, what do you think these samples are? Where did you get them?”

  “A mummified corpse in a cave in the Peruvian desert. The anthropomorphic data has our scientists puzzled. They think it could be mammalian, but there’s conflicting evidence.”

  Rowan pressed the phone hard to his ear, waiting apprehensively through the pause on the other end. “You’ve sent me lots of crazy stuff over the past few years, but this takes the cake,” Glenn allowed. “Are you thinking it might be extraterrestrial?”

  “That’s the theory,” Rowan said. “But without those samples, we have nothing.”

  “So, what do you want me to do with them?”

  “Any chance they were contaminated after collection?”

  “Knowing Lauren and her chain-of-evidence collection procedures? I’d have to say no. Why do you ask?”

  Rowan didn’t mention the incident with the police in Cusco. “Never mind. Are there any labs that can analyze them?”

  “I’ve made a few phone calls. I found one in New Mexico that can.”

  “Ship it and send me the bill.” If it’s not one thing it’s another. The Network was gonna have kittens when they found out they’d made the lab folks sick too.

  “How’s Lauren doing?”

  “She’s resting at home and getting stronger all the time,” Rowan said. “She’s hoping we’ll be able to leave for Spokane in three or four weeks.”

  “Well, don’t bring me any other radiated samples, okay?”

  “Just fuzzy brown hairs. At least, that’s the plan.”

  “Going ‘squatchin’?” Rowan could hear the grin. “Be sure to bottle any fecal samples in alcohol. That’s the best way to preserve the DNA.”

  “Which is better, vodka or rum?”

  “Isopropyl.” And the line went dead.

  Chapter 5

  “Stories of the Wild-Man are found throughout the history of the indigenous tribes here in the Pacific Northwest,” Lauren explained as they unloaded the truck at the trailhead. The crew included camera and audio specialists, assistant researchers, and Sherpas to haul the equipment. Everyone gathered around, inspecting equipment one last time to make sure it hadn’t been damaged in shipping. “Members of the Lummi tribe told tales of the Ts’emekwes ... their name for Bigfoot.”

  “So, let’s talk about some of the hazards we can expect to encounter.” Rowan took a seat on one of the cases. A mission and safety briefing was routine before every expedition. “Over the course of the next week, we’re going to be doing a lot of hiking on Mount Saint Helens. Most of it will be uphill, and we’ll be gaining approximately 4,500 to 5,500 feet in elevation. I hope everyone ate their Wheaties this morning,” he joked. “Human error is one of the leading causes of injury here in the National Park. Second is the climate. I checked the weather conditions, and it looks like we have a few good days ahead of us, but there’s a chance of rain later in the week. Rain comes with the risk of lightning, alluvial flooding and mudslides.”

  Lauren took over. “This is a strenuous climb. Now, we’re all in pretty good physical condition, but that doesn’t mean we can let our guard down. So, check your gear, double knot your hiking boots, and let’s load up. We have a long hike ahead of us.”

  * * *

  “As if it’s not bad enough worrying about the active volcano beneath our feet, we’re hunting for a man-eating bigfoot,” Rowan narrated to the camera as the team made its way up the damp mountain path—an animal trail, really. “Two days of hiking in the cold rain has been miserable, and everyone is near exhaustion, but we’re getting closer to the lair of the legendary Bigfoot.”

  Jean-René flipped the camera off. “Clear.”

  “Man-eater?” Bahati gulped.

  “Don’t let him scare you. It’s just an old folk tale,” Lauren said. “The worst reports, of late, have just been some rock throwing.”

  “It is a wild creature,” Rowan warned. “Just because it hasn’t been violent doesn’t mean it won’t protect itself or its offspring if it feels threatened.”

  “I don’t intend to threaten it.” Bahati held her hands up.

  Lauren shrugged the pack onto her shoulders to adjust it. Her back ached and her feet were cold and wet. “I just want to take its picture. Do you think it would pose with me for a selfie?”

  Rowan rolled his eyes and stepped up to where the path opened onto a wide clearing. The sound of running water implied there was a stream nearby, a sorely needed source of fresh water.

  “This looks like a good place to make camp for the night,” Jean-René said.

  “We’ve got two hours of daylight,” Lauren said. “Let’s go ahead and break out the equipment. Jean-René and I will scout the area once we make camp and see if there are any signs of our target.”

  * * *

  In no time, Jean-René had the camera equipment unpacked. Lauren checked her dart pistol before she returned it to her hip holster. It was loaded with a powerful tranquilizer, the only weapon they were allowed to have in the National Park. Guns were prohibited by Federal law. She’d had to use it once before when an aggressive black bear surprised her in the Alaskan back country. She hadn’t been that lucky when she ran into a grizzly a few months before, and had narrowly escaped by slipping inside an abandoned cabin. She wouldn’t go out without one now.

  “Aren’t you tired?” Jean-René asked, once they were alone.

  “Yes,” Lauren admitted. “But I have a job to do.”

  “You should lie down after dinner and rest. It could be a long night.”

  “I won’t be able to sleep. Especially if we get any kind of activity. There’s plenty of time for sleep tomorrow.”

  “Rowan said he wanted to get deeper into the forest.” Jean-René shook his head. “We might have to hike ... especially if we don’t find anything here.”

  A rustling in the distance drew her eyes to the tree line. Jean-René looked at her, then turned, searching for what had caught her attention. He lifted his camera and switched it to infrared. “Did you see something?”

  “Maybe.” She held a finger to her lips as she paused to listen. “Got anything on camera?”

  “Heat signature on that big fir tree, fading fast.”

  She moved to see the viewfinder. “Do bears leave hand-prints?” The fading mark on the tree looked almost human.

  “Chance!” Jean-René shouted. “Rowan?” A distant crash echoed above them on the steep hillside. Something moved farther in the distance; a large shadow in the woods. “What was that?”

  “Let’s find out,” she said, taking off after it.

  “Lauren, wait.” Jean-René rushed to catch up with her. “Are you sure it’s a good idea to go chasing bears in the woods?”

  She stopped abruptly, looking down at the loam in front of her. With a hint of caution in her voice she said, “I don’t think it was a bear.
”

  Jean-René followed her gaze to a large depression in the soft earth. “Oh, wow...”

  The footprint was at least fifteen inches long, twice as long as an average human footprint. It was deep in the mud, but it looked as if it hadn’t been there long, though the soil was lightening as it dried around the edges.

  Lauren called Rowan to join them. He sat on his heels beside her. “Did you bring the casting kit?” she asked. Jean-René nodded. “Make sure the site is secure. We don’t need whatever made that print sneaking up on us.”

  “Look, you can see the toes. Is that an imprint of hair?” Jean-René was still focused on the print. Lauren bent down on her hands and knees with a magnifying glass and flashlight, inspecting it.

  “Sure enough,” she said. “Great way to start the investigation! I didn’t think we’d find anything for at least another day or two.” She mixed the compound with water from her canteen. “It’s a good location. Close to the water, off the beaten path. Looks like there’s plenty of game and natural cover. If I were Bigfoot, I’d like it here.”

  Rowan gasped as he knelt beside her, inspecting the depression with his flashlight. He shook his head. “Impressive.”

  “Okay, I have the casting agent mixed. Ready to film?”

  “Yeah. Let’s get this one in the can on the first take, okay?” Jean-René gave them the thumbs up as he switched on the camera.

  Lauren narrated as she poured the plaster into the crater left by the unknown creature. “I’m using a product called Dental Stone. It’s stronger and less likely to crumble than plaster. We’ll want to make sure this cast is viable for researchers for many years to come.” It would take thirty minutes for the cast to dry, but the viewing audience would see less than thirty seconds. The half-hour spent waiting for the cast to dry would be edited out in post-production.

  * * *

  “We better make sure the motion-activated trap-cams are set around the perimeter. I don’t want this thing walking in on us unawares in the middle of the night,” Lauren instructed, as they waited for the cast. “Jean-René, do we have a GPS ping on this location?”