Wasp Canyon

by Danielle McCrory

  “Oh I hope so, it’s just . . .” Andrea trailed off. She finally turned and looked at Claire. “I’m worried about her, Claire.”

  “Well . . .” Claire paused. She knew Jessica had fallen off course when she was attacked in the canyon. She had been doing better—a lot better—before that. She was looking healthier, and she was eating. She was even smiling and laughing sometimes. Following Mr. C’s death, Claire wondered if she would ever hear her friend laugh again. “Well, I guess you could say she’s been acting a little odd since the attack. But that’s to be expected, right? It must have been terrifying.”

  “Oh yes, I know I know,” Andrea said dismissively. “I know it must have been awful. I expected her to be sad—and scared. Perhaps even mad that her ankle was injured and she couldn’t run anymore. But she’s behaving . . . differently.”

  “Differently how?”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Andrea said. “When I ask her what’s wrong, she just stares out the window at the rain. I guess I’m worried this . . . encounter . . . in the desert has affected her more than she is letting on.”

  “What does Dr. Wyatt think?” Claire asked. “I mean, she saw her the other day, right? Did she mention how it went?”

  “Very little,” Andrea lamented. “She hardly told me a thing about it. I’m worried it went poorly, but I can’t get any answers out of her.” Andrea glanced down the hallway again. “Listen,” she said to Claire, her voice low, “I need you to help me. Well, to help Jessica.”

  Claire looked at Andrea with confusion. She glanced down at her grocery bag on the counter.

  “Here,” Andrea said, “let me open that for you.” She reached into Claire’s grocery bag and pulled out the bottle of wine. “You don’t mind, do you?”

  “I—uh . . .” Claire stammered.

  Andrea looked at the bottle. “Yellow tail? Not the best, but I guess it will have to do. At least you got the big bottle.” She popped the cork, grabbed two glasses, and poured each of them a glass. “I need something to help me get through book club tonight. It’s Fifty Shades of Grey.” She rolled her eyes and took a large gulp.

  Claire stared at her, dumbfounded. She took her glass from the counter and looked at Andrea with awe. “Thanks, Mrs. C.”

  “Relax, dear,” Andrea said, taking another long pull from her glass. “I know you two were going to have a few drinks with your movie tonight. Just please make sure that she eats something, too.”

  “Of course, Mrs—”

  “Andrea,” she said. “It’s about time you start calling me that.”

  “Ok . . . Andrea,” Claire said.

  Andrea finished off her glass and took Claire’s hand. “Listen Claire, Jessica is never going to confide in me the way she would with you. I need you to keep an eye on her. If she is thinking about doing something . . . dangerous, or self-damaging . . . please, please, help her to get back on track.”

  Claire nodded, confused. “Uh, yeah, I guess so. I—I guess I can do that.”

  Relief washed over Andrea’s face. “Thank you, Claire.” She squeezed Claire’s hand and let go. “I appreciate this more than you know.”

  A sound came from down the hall. Claire looked in the direction of the sound and saw Jessica heading down the hallway. Swish, clunk. Swish, clunk. She looked excited.

  “Hey girl,” Jessica said as she entered the kitchen. “Whatcha two doing in here?” She looked at the two wine glasses, one empty, and raised her eyebrows.

  “Oh, I’m just catching up with Claire,” Andrea said.

  Claire looked at Andrea awkwardly, then turned her attention to Jessica. “Hey you! Ready for some Disney action? I got Beauty and the Beast all ready to go.”

  “Sounds great!” Jessica said with too much enthusiasm.

  Mrs. C—Andrea—was right, Claire thought. She is acting a little different.

  “Ok then, ladies,” Andrea said, “I’m off to book club. There is money on the counter for pizza. You two enjoy the movie.” And almost as an afterthought: “And keep the doors locked.”

  Jessica smiled at Andrea. “You got it, Mom. Have fun!”

  Andrea grabbed her purse. She gave Jessica one last smile, then turned to Claire. She was still smiling, but she also looked concerned. She headed out through the garage door. The girls watched as the deadbolt locked into place, just in case they forgot to lock it themselves.

  Chapter 33

  They stood in the kitchen, listening to the garage door rumble back down and finally come to a stop.

  “Girl, you’ll never guess what your mom just did—”

  “C’mon,” Jessica said, grabbing Claire’s hand and pulling her toward the hallway. Claire looked longingly at her wine glass as she let Jessica drag her toward her bedroom.

  “What’s going on? You seem antsy about something?”

  “Uh, yeah,” Jessica said, distracted. She went straight to her desk once they entered her room, grabbed a large stack of papers, and began shuffling through them.

  “Whatcha got there?” Claire asked, feigning enthusiasm.

  Jessica glanced up. “Research,” she said. She went back to shuffling through the documents that were strewn across her desk.

  Claire started to feel uneasy. Her friend looked like she might be going off the deep end. What’s that word when they are way too hyper? Manic—that’s the one. Maybe she could redirect Jessica’s attention to something other than all those papers. “So how did it go with Wyatt yesterday?” she asked.

  “Shitty,” Jessica said, not looking up. “I don’t think I’m going back.”

  “What?” Claire asked, alarmed. “But she was actually helping you, Jess. You can’t just . . . stop.”

  “Don’t call me that,” Jessica said, still looking down. She was putting all the papers into some kind of order.

  Claire sighed. When was this whole ‘Don't call me Jess’ thing going to stop? Just because her dad called her that doesn’t mean nobody else could ever call her that. “Sorry,” she said, “it slipped.”

  “It’s ok. You know, there’s more room in the kitchen. Let's go.” Jessica swish-clunked past Claire and headed back down the hall. Claire sighed and followed her, turning off the bedroom light as she went. At least the wine was in that direction.

  Jessica sat down at the kitchen table and spread out the papers. Claire walked past her, nervous to look at what the papers had on them, and grabbed her wine glass off the counter. Claire took a large sip from her glass and poured one for Jessica. She headed over to the table and sat down. Here we go, she thought. “So what are we looking at here?” Claire asked.

  “I know what killed Cameron Jasper,” Jessica said.

  “Did the police figure it out?” Claire asked, perking up. If they found the animal, maybe all this was just her friend feeling relieved and not knowing how to express it. Nothing more than that.

  Jessica looked up from her papers. “The police don’t know jack shit.”

  “Oh,” Claire said, defeated. She drank from her glass.

  “I talked with Howie,” Jessica said. “He—”

  “You went to Lindy’s?” Claire interrupted. “Without moi?” she asked, clutching dramatically at her chest.

  “Not for fun,” Jessica said with a smile. “I went after my therapy appointment. It didn’t go well, so I went to Lindy’s afterward to postpone having to go home and tell my mom about it.”

  “How did your mom take it?”

  Jessica sighed. “Not well. You know how she worries.”

  “Yeah, I sure do.” Claire took another hearty sip of wine.

  Jessica put the papers down and looked at Claire. “Ok, listen. I have to tell you something. And it’s important.”

  “Ok . . .” Claire said, nodding. “Roger that.”

  “After I was attacked everyone said I imagined what I saw. The detective, that shitty cop at the hospital, my mom, even Dr. Wyatt. And I was ready to just accept that, I guess. I mean, I’ve had to accept a lot of things I don’t
like this year. But then I talked to Howie. And I realized I shouldn't be listening to all these other people tell me what I saw. Because I know what I saw, whether anyone believes me or not.”

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa . . . I wouldn’t go that far,” Claire said. “I just might believe you. But first you have to tell me what’s going on.”

  “Ok . . . the thing that attacked me was not a bear. Or a mountain lion. Or a coyote. Or anything else that we know about. It killed Cameron, it wanted to kill me, and it is going to kill somebody else. A lot of somebody else’s.”

  Kill more people? God, is she going to say it’s Hannibal Lecter or something? Claire thought. “Well, how about we have a snack, maybe a drink, and then you can tell me the whole story, from start to finish. I’m guessing you haven’t eaten anything today.”

  “I’m not hungry,” Jessica said, and resumed organizing her paperwork.

  “But I brought popcorn. It’s the good stuff, too,” Claire gestured toward the kitchen counter. “Look, it even says ‘Movie Theater Butter’ on it.”

  Jessica looked up from what she was doing, stared at the popcorn box for a few seconds, then returned to her papers. After a moment, she set the papers down in a stack. She grabbed the glass of wine and took a long swallow. “Ok,” Jessica said, “so I told you about the attack. About the rock, and finding Cameron, and getting chased.”

  “Yes,” Claire said, thinking about her description of Cameron’s body. A shiver crept its way up her spine, one vertebra at a time. Jessica could have used a little less detail during that part. What happened to him sounded horrible.

  “And I told you how the police didn’t believe me when I said it wasn’t a normal animal. The police said they thought it was a bear with mange or something—that’s why it didn’t have any fur. And it couldn’t hunt normal because it was sick. And its spine stuck out because it was hungry.” She rattled off the details like they were on a check list.

  “Yes, you told me all of that.”

  “Well, I went and saw Howie at Lindy’s yesterday and he told me about these murders that happened around thirty years ago. All the people that were killed died the same way as Cameron. All torn up, none of them really eaten—not a lot anyway.”

  Claire felt queasy—maybe from the cheap wine, but most likely from Jessica’s story.

  Jessica fanned out a bunch of papers in front of Claire. She looked down at the headlines. “Another Person Slain in South Tucson Community.” “The Body Count Continues to Rise in South Tucson.” “Family of Four Found Slain in South Tucson Home.” Claire glanced through the articles but had no desire to read them.

  Jessica continued, “Seventeen people in all, all in the course of two months. And you know what Howie told me that they didn’t mention in the papers?”

  “What’s that?”

  “This all happened during a big El Niño year. Just like this one.” Jessica took a sip of wine. “Back in ‘87, when this all happened, there was a shit-ton of rain, just like this year. And that community where they all died was right up against the mountains, just like where Cameron was found.”

  “But they were different mountains,” Claire protested.

  “Doesn’t matter. The circumstances are the same. Whatever it is, it sets up camp in the mountains. Lives there for however long, probably surviving by eating other animals. And then whenever there is a big monsoon season, it comes out of the mountains and starts attacking people.”

  “Like it gets washed out of the canyon or something?” Claire asked. This was all starting to sound pretty weird to her. No wonder Andrea was concerned.

  “Yeah, maybe, I guess so. Whatever the reason, it is linked to the rain. The rain started, the killings started. The rain stopped, the killings stopped. That’s why they never found it back then,” Jessica pointed to the articles in front of Claire. “It went away when the rain stopped.”

  “Ok, let's say that’s true . . .”

  “But it is true.”

  “Ok, yes, it’s true.” Claire stood up from the table; she needed more wine for this. She glanced to see if Jessica needed more as well. Claire filled her own glass and topped off Jessica’s. She set the bottle down next to the unopened box of popcorn. Guess we won’t be watching any Beauty and the Beast tonight, she thought. Claire sat back down at the table. “Even with the link to the weather, couldn’t it still be a sick bear or something?”

  “No, it couldn’t.”

  Claire took another pull from her glass. “And why not?”

  “First of all, because these killings were thirty years apart and bears don’t live that long, especially sick ones.”

  “It could have been two different sick—”

  “Second of all,” Jessica said, cutting her off, “it set a trap. It set a fucking trap.” She said the words slowly, emphasizing each one.

  Claire shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Either Jessica was losing her grip on reality or there was some trap-setting monster beast out there. She didn’t care for either possibility.

  “When I entered the canyon that morning, there was no body and there was no rock,” Jessica continued. “It knew when I went into the canyon. It then moved the rock onto the trail for me to trip over. And it put the body just past the rock so I would be distracted and not notice it. The rock I mean. And it knew I was going to have to go back that way. It must have been watching me for a while. That’s why I smelled it that one time. It was watching me.”

  “Smelled it?” Claire cut in. “When did you smell it?”

  “It smelled awful. Like a carnivore smells. Rotting meat and just . . . gross.” Jessica shook her head.

  “Yeah, you told me about the smell before. What I mean is what time are you talking about? When you smelled it the first time? And it was watching you?”

  “I smelled something awful one day when I was leaving the canyon. It was just one quick whiff, but when it chased me I remembered the smell. That happened weeks before the attack, so it must have been watching me the whole time. Waiting.”

  Claire felt the pestering tug of anxiety—this all sounded profoundly creepy. Some beast lying in wait, biding its time, and then setting a trap when the time was right. Freaking creepy, she thought. “Why you?” she asked. “Why would it spend all this time setting up a trap for little ol’ you? You aren’t exactly a feast.” Claire looked Jessica up and down—any weight she had gained had already been lost again.

  “Probably because I went into its territory,” Jessica suggested. She paused, and then nodded as if in agreement with herself. “Yeah, that has to be it. It wasn’t quite ready to come out and start attacking people at that point. But Cameron and I went into its territory. So it thought we were a threat or something.”

  “Okay . . .” Claire said. “And the fact that it set a trap links this thing to the murders from a long time ago how?”

  “Because that thing set a trap, too! Just look at the news reports! It knocked stuff over outside people’s homes, luring them outside to attack them.”

  “Some of these killings happened inside,” Claire said, holding up the article about the family of four.

  “It got bolder as time went on. The first man was just walking home along the street. Then it was people in their backyards. Eventually it started going inside their homes, too.”

  Claire set the article down, wanting to be rid of it. “Ok, I agree that some fucked up shit happened to these people back then. That much is obvious,” she said as she gestured to the papers with her wine glass, almost spilling it. “But there is one big discrepancy.”

  “What?” Jessica asked, alarmed.

  “The time of day, Jessica. All these attacks happened at night. Every single one of them. But you were attacked during the daytime. It doesn’t add up.”

  “If it set a trap and injured Cameron first, like it did to me, he could have been stuck out there until dark. He could easily have been attacked at night.”

  “But that doesn’t explain you getting attacked in
the daylight.”

  “Oh . . . my God . . .” Jessica said, trailing off. “That’s why I didn’t die.” She looked like she had just had an epiphany.

  “Huh?” Claire asked, confused. “What do you mean that’s why you didn’t die?”

  “The daylight! God, I can’t believe I didn't figure that out sooner!” Jessica looked at Claire, her eyes wide and mouth hanging open. “Listen,” she said, “I always wondered why I got away. I mean—it had me. I was on the ground and unable to run another step. It could have killed me no problem. But it stopped. And you know why it stopped?”

  “Hanging on the edge of my seat, babe.”

  “It’s because of the sunlight. Don’t you see? That canyon was super dark and shadowy. I doubt it ever got much sunlight in there, if any. It chased me through the canyon, almost caught me, but when I got into the sunlight it had to stop. That’s why it was standing in the shadows snarling at me. It couldn’t get any closer to me. It couldn’t go into the sunlight. And that’s why all the attacks were at night—because it can’t go out in the sun.”

  “Jesus Christ, Jess, if you tell me you got attacked by a goddamn vampire I am literally going to flip my shit.”

  Jessica laughed. “No, I’m not going to tell you that.”

  “Thank God for small favors,” Claire said, finishing off her second glass. They were going to need to order the pizza soon, before she got too sloshed. She doubted this was the time to bring up pepperoni or sausage, though. “Ok then, are you finally going to tell me what this thing is?”

  Jessica picked up one of the papers that she had left face down on the other side of the table. She set it down in front of Claire. “It’s a chupacabra.”

  Claire looked at the image on the page for a long period of time. She placed both of her hands on the table and took a slow, deep breath. Claire looked up at Jessica, her eyebrows raised. “It’s a chuppa-whatta?”