SAMUEL JUST watched as his mother walked out of sight.
Instantaneously, an enormous black shadow descended on top of him. There was a flapping sound, and a powerful breeze blew back his hair.
The child looked up.
Something was there now. Looking right at him.
“Come on, come on, come on. . . . ”
Allen Meyer sprinted past trees and ferns, leading the way. They’d just parked and were tearing through the forest, seconds away from his wife, his baby . . .
Following, Darryl and Jason darted their eyes, studying the ominously silent landscape. They had a bad feeling.
CHAPTER 60
CLUTCHING HER pocketknife, Laura Meyer took another step. Whatever she’d heard, it was just around the next redwood, she was sure of it. She’d just scare it off and go back to her child. She held the knife firmly, rounded the tree, and—
“Oh my God, Allen.”
It was her husband and two men she didn’t recognize.
Winded, Allen froze. “You OK?”
“Fine.”
He suddenly looked around. “Where’s Samuel?”
“He’s . . . in the tree cave.”
A stunned pause. “You left him alone?”
“I heard something and—”
Allen Meyer ran toward the trail. They all did.
SAMUEL WAS captivated.
The creature was just hovering there, five feet off the ground, flapping rapidly, staring at him.
Swinging in his little chair, Samuel looked right back at it, drawn to its eyes. The eyes were almost magnetic, pure black and perfectly still. Then, like magic, the eyes moved. They looked to Samuel’s left, then his right, then back to his left again.
Then the great body dropped lower and the mouth opened.
In his little chair, Samuel was almost swinging into it.
“SAMUEL!” ALLEN Meyer ran as hard as he could.
THE HEAD jerked. The predator hadn’t been paying attention, but someone was coming. . . .
It turned back to the child. Then jolted closer. . . .
Samuel just stared at the approaching teeth, hundreds of them. . . .
He swung away . . . then back again.
His father screamed once more. . . .
The head turned. Then there was a powerful surge of wind. The mouth snapped closed, and the teeth disappeared.
ALLEN MEYER halted. On the opposite side of the trail, Samuel was swinging in the cave, perfectly fine.
As Darryl, Jason, and Laura came around, the ranger plucked his son from the chair. “You OK?”
The kid cooed.
Jason noticed the soil in front of the tree. It almost looked . . . wind-strewn. Just like Samuel Meyer’s hair. Jason noticed the child was looking up.
Jason looked up too. But nothing was there now, just thick, white fog.
CHAPTER 61
“SON OF a bitch!”
Laura Meyer couldn’t believe it. She pulled her SUV over to the roadside, and her husband and his two guests did the same. Outside, she pointed angrily at the red pickup. “I saw these guys earlier. Three hunters. I told them to leave immediately.”
Allen Meyer exhaled. “Oh boy, what a goddamn day.” He eyed the silent trees. “OK, I’ll go out there and find—”
“I’ll do it.”
Meyer turned. This had come from the big strong black guy. “No. That’s OK.”
“You sure? I’m qualified. I’m former U.S. Army and a licensed hunter in four states with firearms and bow and arrow.” Darryl opened his wallet to show his credentials.
Meyer studied them and looked up. “I get paid for this, you know.”
“It’s not about that. You guys have had a tough enough day already.” Darryl Hollis eyed the tot in back of the SUV. “When my wife and I have little ones one day, I hope someone helps me out. No big deal.”
The Meyers shared a look. What a genuinely touching offer. “That’s very nice of you. If you’re sure you want to, we’ll leave you a truck to get back. And a walkie-talkie.”
Darryl was looking at the fog now. “Sure.”
“Darryl, you got a second?” Jason led him a few feet away.
“What’s up?”
Jason swallowed nervously. “Be careful, all right?”
“A bear could have killed that jogger.”
“You really believe that?”
Darryl looked around. “I don’t know. Just trying to come up with other possibilities. See ya soon.” He pocketed the walkie-talkie, then walked into the redwoods and disappeared.
HE ALMOST had the shot. Big Tim and his two minions had been tracking the deer for half an hour and were finally within shooting range. After darting everywhere, the deer had stopped to nibble on some ferns. On one knee, Big Tim aimed his rifle at the buck with the crisscrossing horns. It was a big animal, probably 350 pounds. Yes—he almost had the shot.
THE EYES shifted. From Big Tim, to the deer, back to Big Tim again.
Gliding silently in the fog above, the predator watched every movement. It instinctively recognized what was happening: the stealthy behavior, the careful deliberate movements. One species was hunting another. But the creature didn’t understand how. Its eyes shifted back to Big Tim. Then to the instrument in his hands. He was aiming it at the deer.
ONE EYE open, one eye closed, Big Tim began to ease down on the trigger. If the buck didn’t move in the next quarter second, he’d have it. The buck didn’t move.
THE CREATURE shivered when the shot rang out.
The predator didn’t know how it had happened, but a metal projectile—its ampullae of Lorenzini had picked it up before it even left the rifle barrel—had rocketed out and plunged into the buck’s chest. The deer staggered and fell onto the dirt. Its heart beat rapidly for half a minute, then stopped. The eyes calmly watched it die. Then they swiveled back to the rifle.
DARRYL FROZE. He’d heard it quite clearly. A gunshot. He ran toward it.
“GREAT SHOT, Dad!”
Big Tim blew the nuzzle. “Yeah, not bad.”
The three men walked toward the dead buck, its horned head twisted on the dirt.
“How we gonna get him back to the truck?” Timmy asked.
“Gotta tie his legs to a stick and carry him back.”
“Where we gonna get a stick?”
Big Tim wondered if his son was brain-dead. “We gotta go find one, Timmy. Come on.”
THE CREATURE watched them go.
Then it focused on the deer.
IT TOOK a while, but they found a perfect stick, eight feet long and as thick as a baseball bat. They weren’t more than ten feet away when they saw what had happened to their prize.
“Jesus Christ! Look at that, Dad!”
“Son of a bitch.” Big Tim suddenly clutched his rifle tighter.
The deer was right where they’d left it. But its chest, stomach, and hindquarters weren’t there anymore. They were gone, replaced by a single gargantuan bite.
“You think a bear got it, Dad?”
“I don’t know.” Tim Jameson knew many bear species had huge appetites, but he didn’t think any of them—black, brown, grizzly, or Kodiak—had a mouth large enough to take a bite like this one. Staring at the mutilated animal, he rubbed his beard. What the hell had a mouth like that? A goddamn whale? He glanced up at the fog. “Let’s get out of here.”
“You don’t want the deer?”
Big Tim looked around nervously. “Forget the deer, Timmy. Something wants it more than we do. Put the stick down; let’s go.”
THE THREE men spotted him from a hundred feet.
“Hey, what’s that black guy doing out here? I thought the park’s closed.”
As they walked closer, Big Tim spoke up. “Hey, mister, I don’t think you wanna be out here just now.”
Darryl Hollis hesitated. “That’s what I was coming to tell you.”
“Mission accomplished. We’re leaving.”
They hustled past him, and Darr
yl didn’t follow. Something had scared them. As the men disappeared, he looked up at the fog. It was very quiet here. Darryl had never thought about it before, but as big as redwoods were, he realized, they actually deadened sound, blocked it out. He scanned the area. But it was more than just quiet, wasn’t it? There were no animals—none—not even squirrels or birds. He realized he was alone and didn’t have a weapon. He looked up at the fog again. Was something up there?
“Darryl, you out there? Darryl?”
He removed the walkie-talkie. “What’s up, Jason?” He didn’t take his eyes off the fog.
“A lot. Get back here right away. The rangers’ station.”
CHAPTER 62
“SO YOU’LL take care of whatever’s out there?”
Jason nodded to the ranger. “We will.” He, Darryl, and Craig didn’t like making major decisions without consulting Monique, Lisa, and Phil, but these were extreme circumstances. Allen and Laura Meyer were leaving the park in minutes, so they had to make an immediate decision right here in the rangers’ station.
Allen Meyer was tense. He hadn’t cleared the proposed plan with park management. He turned to his wife for support, but she looked away. She was beyond tense. A hearse from the closest funeral home, 110 miles away, had just picked up the jogger. It was the first dead body Laura Meyer had seen in her entire life, and she still hadn’t recovered. She was seated at a desk hugging their eleven-month-old tightly, the way a mother would after seeing her first dead person. Still, she was a fellow ranger, and Allen Meyer wanted her opinion of this potential arrangement. “What do you think, honey?”
“I think I just want to get out of here.”
“Should we let these guys take care of whatever’s out there? They say they want to.”
“Then let them. I just want to go.”
“Well . . . we can’t just leave them here.”
“We’ve hired local hunters to kill bobcats and things before. It will be fine.”
“I’d have to call Robinson to check it’s OK.”
“Then call him, for Christ’s sake!” Laura exhaled, calming down. “I promise Robinson will OK it. It just means less work for him.” Mark Robinson was Leonard State Park’s lazy and alcoholic director of operations.
Allen picked up the phone, but there was no dial tone. He turned to Darryl curiously. “A bear must have killed that guy, right?”
“Oh yeah.” Darryl didn’t know what else to say. Especially since the ranger had already listed “bear attack” as the official cause of death on the certificate with the funeral home.
Still, Allen Meyer had a trillion questions about what they’d seen out there. “You know, there are still a few things I don’t unders—”
“Jesus, Allen! Enough! Let’s get out of here! Let’s get our baby out of here! Just call Robinson, clear this, and let’s go!”
The ranger shot his wife an angry look. He didn’t appreciate being yelled at like this in front of strangers. But then he eyed his son and nodded obediently.
WITH THE parking lot’s streetlamps buzzing overhead, Allen Meyer shook hands with Darryl, Jason, and Craig. “Thank you very much for taking care of this. I couldn’t get through to our boss, but we have no doubt he’ll OK it.”
Darryl eyed the two helicopters. “We can use whatever we need?”
“The entire park’s at your disposal. Helicopters, rifles, cars, the equipment in the storage shed . . . anything. You have the keys to the cabin?”
Jason held them up.
“Good. And just to be clear, you guys will be alone out here. All the local businesses know the park’s closed for the prescribed burns, so they’re closed too. There’s pretty much no one within a hundred miles of here, and with the phone service . . . you’re isolated.”
The three men nodded.
“Anyway, good luck.”
They shook hands once more; Meyer walked to his Civic, where Laura was already waiting in the passenger seat. As they pulled away, Darryl noticed little Samuel in the back of the car. The child was waving. Darryl returned the wave. Then the car disappeared. The three men were alone.
“DARRYL?”
They jolted around. It was Monique, walking out of the darkness with Lisa.
“Monique?” Darryl was stunned. “What are you doing here?”
“What do you mean? Phil told us to meet you here. We got lost, so it took a while.”
CHAPTER 63
“THEN I guess I misunderstood you, Darryl.”
They were standing on the creek’s dock under the moonlight.
“How could you possibly have misunderstood me, Phil?! The whole point of sending you here was to tell them not to move!”
Jason shook his head in disbelief. “What the hell were you thinking? My God, they could have gotten hurt.”
Phil ignored Jason. “I’m telling you, Darryl. You told me to do it.”
“You’re gonna lie right to my damn face? . . .” Darryl lunged for him, but Jason thrust himself in the way.
“Please let’s not do it this way.”
Darryl stepped back. Then slowly exhaled.
“Darryl, I would never, ever, intentionally put Monique and Lisa in harm’s way.” Phil shook his head, almost as if trying to figure it out himself. “Maybe I got confused. You’re right; when I think about it now, it doesn’t make sense to send them out there, but that’s honestly what I thought you wanted me to do. I thought you were worried and wanted to see her right away.” He turned. “Monique, do you actually think I wanted you to get hurt?”
Monique was perfectly calm. “No, Phil, I don’t. I think we should all take a breather and relax.” She patted her husband’s back. “Everything’s cool, all right?”
Darryl exhaled again. “Yeah, sure.”
Monique shoved him. “It was a misunderstanding. Why not shake on it? This bad blood isn’t good for anybody.”
Phil extended his hand, and Darryl reluctantly shook it. As they did, Craig watched Phil like a hawk. Jason watched Phil, too. Somehow his college friend had gotten even dumber with age. Then Jason turned to someone who mattered. “Lisa, you got a second?”
The two of them walked farther out on the dock. “What’s up?”
“Sorry we didn’t consult you before we made the . . . arrangement to stay here.”
She glanced at the full moon. “I understand, under the circumstances.”
He looked at her. “You going to tell me what’s wrong, then?”
She continued to look up. “I’m fine.”
He gently turned her chin. “Please.”
She exhaled. “Something out there killed someone, Jason. I still can’t fathom that it’s what we’ve been tracking. . . .”
“Neither can I.”
“But it’s something; it’s out there, and—” She stopped talking.
“And . . . what?”
“And I’m scared. I mean, I am really, really scared.”
“Do you want to leave?”
“Do you want me to leave?”
“Lisa, you’re right; you are a biologist. You don’t need to be here.”
“I didn’t ask you that.” She looked him in the eye. “I asked you if you want me to leave.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Then I don’t want to either.”
She scanned the dim, dark outline of the forest, a strange look on her face.
“What?”
“Just realizing I haven’t learned how to fire a rifle yet.”
“We better get on th—” He stopped talking. Something was behind them. Right on the dock. He turned and—
“Sorry to scare you,” Darryl said.
Jason chuckled. “No problem. What’s up?”
“I know how we’re gonna hunt this thing.”
“How?”
“We’re discussing it right now.” Darryl walked back down the dock. “Let’s go talk about it.”
CHAPTER 64
“FIRST WE gotta confirm that what we think killed that
jogger actually did.”
They stood in the tall grass near the dock, the moon’s mirror image gently rippling on the water.
“How are we going to do that?” Craig said to Darryl.
“For starters, by checking the base of the tree where the body turned up.”
“Why?”
“To see if anything climbed the tree. Maybe something else entirely killed that guy. Maybe a bear or a mountain lion.”
“Can they both climb?” Jason asked.
“Mountain lions sure can. They regularly eat their kills in trees.”
Craig shook his head irritably. “Gimme a break, Darryl. That jogger was, what—two hundred and twenty-five pounds? Are you saying some puny fifty-pound mountain lion killed him and dragged his corpse to the top of a redwood tree?”
“I’m not saying that at all, Sherlock.” Darryl knew full well that mountain lions never went after fully grown adult men. “I just think we should be methodical here, cover all the bases. Maybe a bear did it. Some black bears can get up to nine hundred pounds. They’re certainly strong enough.”
“But they don’t attack people, Hoss.”
“Not generally, but there are exceptions. This guy was jogging at night? What if he surprised a hungry bear? Or a bear with cubs? Either of those situations could be lethal, believe me. And that jogger’s body was covered with saliva, remember?”
Before the hearse arrived, Jason and Darryl had checked the corpse for teeth marks. While they didn’t find any discernible evidence, the skull had been partially crushed and dried saliva covered much of the body. Both findings were consistent with bear attacks. Bears could easily crush a human skull simply by falling on it with their front paws, and they often licked their kills as a way of marking them.
“It could have been a bear.”
Craig shook his head. “I don’t buy it.”
Darryl shrugged. “Neither do I. That’s why I want to see the tree. To be sure.”
Natural Selection Page 24
