by R. Gualtieri
“There’s a difference. Traditional stories usually make a pretty good distinction between spiritual creatures and physical monsters. Think about Okanagan Lake up in Canada. The natives there had been telling tales of something strange living in the lake for hundreds of years before the Europeans came.”
“So what then?” Danni asked. “People there have been seeing something.”
“Maybe,” Derek replied. “Even the name itself, Jersey Devil, implies Judeo-Christian beliefs. Personally, I think the whole thing is a combination of hysteria, local tall tales, and maybe a little misidentification along the way.”
“In short ... bullshit,” Francis concluded.
Derek nodded. “In a nutshell, but we still have to go.”
“Bullshit Hunters it is, then,” Francis said, eliciting a laugh from the rest.
When Mitchell questioned him as to the purpose of hunting this particular boogeyman, as he called it, Derek went into further detail about what Norah had told him, including their personal invitation by the governor of the Garden State.
He explained that the plan was to pack up and head out first thing tomorrow for Nome. From there, they’d catch a flight to Anchorage and then a commercial connection to Newark Liberty International Airport. Norah had assured him their vehicles would be waiting for them there. At that point, they’d head west to Trenton for a quick briefing.
“And then?” Danni asked.
“That’s all I have. They’ll give us the rest in person. There’s some political paranoia at play, so they didn’t send too many details.”
“Gotta love politicians,” Mitchell commented.
“That doesn’t give us much to go on,” Danni pointed out.
Derek shrugged. “I’m well aware. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do our due diligence. We’ll use today for some fact finding. Read up on the area, the local fauna, et cetera. Make sure there are no surprises. I’ll forward each of you what Norah sent me last night.”
“I’d like to see the archive files on the devil,” Danni said.
Derek considered this for a moment. Her clearance was limited due to her in-training status, but there was nothing overly classified in those records. Though it would be breaking rules, he decided to give her unsupervised access. That’ll teach them to threaten us over a snipe hunt. “You got it. But be forewarned, kid, it’s dry stuff and I guarantee it won’t be all that useful.”
Danni grinned in return. “That’s okay. If it really is that boring, that’ll just mean I sleep well tonight.”
♦ ♦ ♦
It wasn’t quite as dull as Derek had warned, but it was close. Danni had been given access to other files in months past. Many of them included firsthand accounts of the creatures to which they pertained. She’d particularly enjoyed reading about a Navy diver’s encounter down in the Bahamas with what he claimed to be a monstrous octopus. He had managed to escape not only with his life, but a piece of tentacle as well. The scientists who examined it had postulated that the creature it had come from was enormous – maybe even a possible contender for the ancient legend of the kraken.
Sadly, the files on the screen before her now weren’t nearly as interesting. It was mostly old retellings of sightings – a dubious source of veracity in any situation – a few crackpot theories, and some unconvincing photos of footprints. While there had been some serious investigations over the years, any “evidence” found was inconclusive at best.
She smiled at that last thought. Over the past year, she had gotten some exposure to the cryptozoology community at large. While there were some truly dedicated researchers in the field, for every one of them, there were at least three shysters more concerned with a quick buck than anything else. That worked for their purposes. The less respectable types were sloppy and pretty obvious about it. The result was that anyone connected to this type of research was cast in a dim light, as far as the mainstream press was concerned. Traditional media treated them like a bad joke, which had the unintended consequence of making her team’s cover all that more effective. Once they showed up, reporters would quickly pack their bags and move on, not wanting to risk giving them any sort of legitimacy. It was perfect. The press never had a clue as to how well they were being played.
Danni yawned, stretched, then went back to the files – hoping to find something that might be useful for their investigation. The one good thing about still being an undergraduate was that her note-taking skills were fresh and up to the task. She quickly glanced at them to take stock of the pertinent facts she had recorded.
Jersey Devil:
Legends:
- Most popular: 13th child of Mother Leeds – supernatural origin, mid 1700’s
- Leeds Point attributed birth place of devil – potential tourist trap. Also half a state away from the recent disappearances, i.e. a dead end.
- Also attributed to the Shroud family name – less well known in popular culture, but still fairly well researched.
- Possibly predated by Native Americans. Lenape tribe legends account for some strange spirit activity in the Pine Barrens region. Nothing concrete, probably coincidence.
Sightings:
- Mostly sporadic. Several years pass between sightings. Possibly due to low population in region – also possibly due to it all being bullshit!
- Overly high percentage of group sightings compared to other cryptids. Odd outlier, probably one of the few reasons the entire thing isn’t written off as crap. Group hysteria? Possible. This is New Jersey we’re talking about.
Years of notable sightings:
1819
1840
1878
1937 – Longest gap ... why?
1960
2007 onward – related to our case?
Theories:
- Sandhill Crane. A large bird but uncommon to the area. But seriously, how many people really mistake a bird for a monster ... except for maybe Thunderbirds?
- Giant fruit bat. Possible, but not native to the region. Also, giant is a bit of an exaggeration. They’re not that big.
- Undiscovered cryptid? Troublesome. No fossil record to support that theory.
- The actual devil. Hah! Note to self, bring holy water.
- Too many locals drinking wood alcohol – favorite theory so far!
Danni looked up, unimpressed. That was all she had transcribed so far. Hell, she could have gotten better information off of Wikipedia. Derek and the others were right. This was most likely a waste of effort.
She flipped through the files one last time to see if anything had escaped her attention, not expecting to find much. She was just about to call it a night when a picture near the back of one report caught her eye. It was an old black and white photo of some kind of prayer service, one with a distinct fire and brimstone feel to it. A short newspaper clipping accompanied the photo.
Local Priest Exorcises Devil back to Hell
Burlington Bugle – August 5th 1879
Reverend Jedediah Lesterfield and his wife Sarah are seen here leading the faithful in a group exorcism of the creature known as the Leeds Devil. The ungodly beast is said to be responsible for the slaughter of livestock in the area, as well as the possible abduction of three local women of goodly upbringing.
There was a brief summary in the report which gave some further insight. If it was to be believed, the creature had caused a panic amongst the citizens of Shilough, a small town bordering part of the Pine Barrens. Numerous sightings in the prior year, some disappearances – possibly unrelated – and general hysteria had put the town into a near state of emergency. Families had taken to locking themselves inside and holding all night prayer sessions to stave off the creature’s wrath.
Rumors had begun to circulate that the residents finally had enough and were discussing drastic means, such as burning down the forest, in the hopes of ending their torment.
It was Jedediah Lesterfield, a local clergyman with a bit of a shad
y past himself – the records didn’t elaborate – who suggested the ceremony. He obviously wasn’t the fount of sanity the town needed, Danni considered, but his solution was far better than the disaster that could have occurred had the townsfolk gone ahead with their original plan. She looked more closely at the photo, and at the man she assumed was Lesterfield up front, waving his hands in the air like he was DJing a modern rave.
Ugly sucker, she remarked to herself. Though tall and lanky, his face had a brutish sort of bent to it. In another time and place, this guy would probably be breaking kneecaps for the mob.
Over the course of a grandiose day-long ceremony, he‘d whipped the townsfolk into a religious froth of prayer and singing. Finally, he symbolically cast the devil out, declaring a large swath of the woods to be an unholy place – forevermore to be shunned, lest the creature return from the depths of Hell. Amazingly enough, Danni read, the exorcism appeared to have worked. The people avoided the cursed woods, and sightings died down to almost nothing for several years.
Danni chuckled to herself. It was incredible what the power of suggestion could accomplish. Nevertheless, something about it nagged her. She called up Google Maps on her laptop and quickly searched for the town. A few mouse clicks later and she saw the connection. Shilough was located close to the area where they would be investigating. Probably little more than a coincidence, but maybe worth mentioning to Derek.
CHAPTER 5
A sigh of contentment slipped from Abigail Linton’s lips as her boyfriend’s hand slid beneath her bra. She had initially balked at the prospect of parking all the way out on Swamp Forge Road, but her protests gradually subsided as Mike’s expert hands began to win her over. Besides, their other options were pretty limited.
Mike’s parents were staying in tonight, so there was no chance of privacy there, and he wasn’t welcome at her house thanks to Abby’s mother coming home early the week before and catching them half-dressed. Stupidly, Mike had gotten his car detailed two days earlier, ensuring he didn’t have enough cash for even a cheap motel room.
The forge, as it was commonly called, was a known make-out spot. As a result, it was on the patrol routes of the local cops. Many a friend had been caught in the act by the accusing glare of a Maglite shining through their windows. Abby was already on thin ice with her parents, so the prospect of being dropped off at home by the police wasn’t particularly high on her priority list.
Mike wasn’t to be dissuaded, though. His father was an ex-State Trooper. According to him, some careful questioning on his part had given rise to a bit of insight. The patrols out on the forge took place at random intervals so as to catch any kids thinking they’d figured out a pattern, but they were staggered and somewhat inconsistent. Shilough, only a few miles to the north, didn’t have much of a police force. Hammonton did, but the route was outside of their usual jurisdiction. Once a patrol car made its rounds on the forge, it would be at least two hours before another would retrace that route.
“That’s more than enough time,” he had told her with a sly grin.
“Yeah, an hour and fifty-eight minutes longer than you usually need,” she’d replied.
Swamp Forge Road lived up to its name for the most part. It wove through marshlands with scrub brush on either side of it, the closest main road being Route 206 several miles to the west. The lack of street lights and surrounding dense vegetation made it feel even more dark and claustrophobic. Missing a turn on the narrow road was an ideal way to end up stuck in a bog.
Fortunately, Mike had that covered, too. In addition to pumping his father for information, some of his buddies knew the road well. There were dry spots, back and hidden from the road, if one knew where to find them. A person just had to be smart about where they pulled off and make sure to kill the lights once they were parked.
Mike and Abby had cruised the length of the road a few times, all while keeping an eye out for the patrol they knew would eventually drive past them. Finally, they spotted a plainly marked police car. They passed it, then headed out to grab a bite at McDonald’s so as to kill a half-hour or so – lest they be overzealous, park, and the cop end up doubling back to check on them.
Now, at last, parked far back from the road and alone in the back seat of Mike’s car, he was able to resume what he’d started the week before. His hands unsnapped her bra, then went back to work on her breasts.
“Stop playing around and get to it,” she demanded, removing his hands from her chest and moving them down to her still-clasped jeans.
“I love it when you're aggressive.”
“I just don't want to get caught, so let's go.”
“You want it that badly, do you?”
She threw out a sigh. “If you can still talk, maybe your mouth isn't busy enough.”
“I'll take that as a challenge,” he replied, sliding his way down her body.
Abby indulged him as he stopped long enough to suckle on her nipples. Damn, he was good with his tongue. Mike could be a bit of a jerk when he wanted to be. Everything was a goddamned joke to him. But, damn, did he know his way around her body. She could tolerate his asshole humor as long as he put his mouth to better use. They got on well enough and had plenty in common, but the fact that he nearly always brought her to orgasm didn't hurt their relationship in the slightest.
Gotta have priorities, she considered as he unbuckled her pants with his teeth.
Abby felt a shudder beneath her and found herself momentarily confused. Mike hadn't even removed her pants yet.
“Like that, huh?” He chuckled.
“Wait, Mike...”
The car again jolted around them.
“What the fuck, babe?” he asked, raising his head. “I know I'm good, but...”
“Just shut up for a second. I swear, if one of your asshole friends followed us out here...” Her voice trailed off as she saw that he wasn't paying her any attention. Even in the darkness of the car, she could see that his eyes were open wide and staring past her.
Before she could turn to follow his gaze, the window behind her exploded, showering her with safety glass. The outside world no longer muffled, the sound of the window breaking gave way to a frenetic chuffing as if someone was struggling for breath but was too excited to calm down.
She barely had time to witness Mike's anguished cry as his hands moved to protect his face, having been directly in the path of the broken glass, when a massive arm came through the window. Abby couldn’t discern any color in the gloom except to note that it was large and dark. Claws raked across the naked flesh of her torso and she felt the sting of her skin giving way. Then the hand pushed past her, reaching toward her boyfriend.
It grabbed hold of the front of his shirt and pulled. Whatever it was, it was deathly strong, and it dragged her boyfriend over her. Mike's head impacted with the top of the door frame, halting his progress but only momentarily. Another yank from their attacker, and his head pushed back with a sickly snap, then he was dragged through the now open window.
All of it happened so quickly that Abby barely had time to comprehend that her boyfriend was, in all likelihood, beyond help. She sat up and looked out the window, only to see a dark shape pounce upon the unmoving form of her lover. Snarls quickly replaced the tortured wheezing.
Adrenaline raced through her body, already awash in a stew of hormones, and – beyond all good sense – she found herself fumbling with the handle.
“Get off him!” She pushed the door open and into the creature, hoping to drive it off. It was like hitting concrete. The metal slapped against the beast, causing it to grunt in surprise. Unhurt, it turned to face her.
Abby couldn't see much in the dark, but she saw enough to make her rethink her plan. It bared its teeth, housed in a misshapen head, and let loose a hiss of rage. The stench of its breath washed over her. It smelled of decay – the marshes and endless bogs of this accursed place.
She immediately abandoned her course of action, pulling
the door shut in the process. Scrambling into the front seat as the abomination turned its attention back toward Mike, Abby hopped behind the wheel. She might not be able to drive it away herself, but perhaps she could scare it off or even run it over.
Realization hit as she found the ignition switch empty. Mike must've pocketed the key when they parked.
“Goddamn it!” She punched the wheel, inadvertently striking the horn. It let out a long blast and the creature screeched in surprise before launching itself at the driver's side door.
Her bravery all but spent, Abby quickly scooted to the other side and fumbled with the latch. The driver's side window shattered beneath the creature's assault and within moments, its grasping talons were seeking her.
Abby let out a shriek but managed to open the door behind her, falling to the ground.
She scooted backward from the car and managed to scramble to her feet. She turned to run but then stopped, well aware that any delay could potentially be a costly one.
The road! She couldn't afford to run deeper into the woods. That would be the end of it. If she could get to the road, maybe she could get lucky and flag down a car. Hell, maybe tonight was the one night the cops decided to double-down on their patrols.
Remembering that Mike had pulled in and then turned around, she oriented herself with the front of the car just as the creature was extricating itself from the window.
It was a couple dozen yards at most to the road from where they were parked. Abby wasn't much of a sprinter, but considering the labored breathing of the creature, she felt her chances had to be better than even.
She ran no more than ten paces before daring to glance behind her, certain she’d see the creature's nightmare face just inches away. But there was nothing save the darkness of the forest. She might as well have had her eyes shut for all the good it did. That thing might be right behind her or it could have bounded off into the night unseen.
