The River of Bones--An Archie Hunter Adventure

by E C Hunter

  Chapter 15

  Archie was very still for a long count of three before he dared to look over his shoulder. The breathing that had been merely a background noise had, during those few long seconds escalated into the only sound in the world. That ragged, almost wheezing breath sawed at the air. Archie fancied that he could feel warm air moving over the back of his neck.

  Almost without conscious decision Archie began to turn. He knew what he would see, what would be waiting for him when his head had finally finished its slow journey. He knew what it had done and what it was capable of.

  As his head reached its destination all he could see was a flash of shaggy brown hair, a suspicion of dust in the air and the strong, rank tang of the animal’s odour. Archie felt his knees sag and he was forced to sink to the dusty track. Relief flooded through him, relief at not having to confront the animal. His relief was tempered with concern for the man he had seen flung into the undergrowth. Once again, it seemed that the animal had committed murder in his name. With a resigned sigh Archie got to his feet and cautiously stepped towards the spot where the man had disappeared. As he peered through the undergrowth a delirious groan rose from a clump of brambles. Still alive then, thought Archie grimly.

  Ironically, the man still being alive caused Archie more immediate problems than if he were dead. All his humanity screamed that he couldn’t leave him; he would almost certainly die from exposure – or bears. It would be the same as killing him with his own hands. On the other hand the man was clearly dangerous, Archie had already experienced that. If he could, the man would do whatever it was he had planned for Archie. Could Archie take that risk? No, he decided, he couldn’t. But he must try and keep the man alive.

  Archie opened his pack and dug out his sleeping bag, a water bottle and his first aid kit. With care he made his way down to the man. He was lying on his back, the undergrowth providing him shade. There was a thin trickle of blood coming from the man’s nose and he was snoring loudly and liquidly. A good sign, Archie thought – at least he was breathing well. Archie opened up the sleeping bag and spread it over the inert body, placed the water bottle and first aid kit next to him and turned to go. With guilt he realised he should offer the man some crumb of comfort. He returned to his pack, tore a page from his notebook, scribbled a quick note ‘gone to get help’, placed it on the first aid kit and left.

  Archie glanced left as he emerged from the bush and noticed the quad, still sitting there, upended on its’ rear wheels. It was the work of a moment to push it back the right way up. It bounced satisfactorily as it landed on its fat squashy tyres. With joy Archie saw that it was a green Kawasaki KVF 360 – exactly the same model he used to bomb about the estate roads at home. He knew this machine intimately, his own was like an extension of himself, he could get it anywhere – even if it was a little slow and underpowered. With the confidence of long practice he quickly checked the oil and coolant levels to make sure its mishap hadn’t caused any problems. All seemed OK. He slung his pack into the rear transport box (on his own bike it was an old plastic fish crate) hopped on and hit the starter button. It started on it’s first revolution and settled into tick over with a pleasing burble. The gear change was the older ‘long stick’ type, just like his own. It was sticky just like his own too. After a short battle Archie got it into high, wheeled round to face the direction he had been travelling and set off. For the first time in what seemed forever he felt like he was making progress.

  Archie loved quads, at home he would spend hours just cruising around the estate tracks. George had ensured he was a more than competent rider and these Canadian forest roads were wide and level, if slightly stony. He was able to bowl along at a fair pace although the 360cc engine of the Kawasaki did not allow for blistering speed.

  The forest road ran arrow straight as far as Archie could see and with a sense of déjà vu he saw with another plume of dust heading towards him – at speed. His heart sank and a flood of despair overtook him. There were no side tracks visible, nowhere he could hide, and besides if he had see the dust plume, the approaching rider would have seen his. What could he do? The other quad was clearly travelling much faster than he was, if he turned tail the other guy would be on him within a few kilometres.

  As he watched Archie saw the man reach behind him and pull out a baseball bat. The varnish on the bat glistened menacingly in the sun as the man gave it an exploratory twirl in his hand…he was clearly an expert with it. But was he a ball player or a thug? It seemed clear to Archie, the man was coming for him, and not for a game of softball.

  Something on the left hand side of the track caught is eye, a hundred metres ahead. With a subconscious mental calculation Archie realised that he would reach it first.

  Archie knew exactly what he was looking at, they had similar things at home – to help fight moorland fires. It was a rack of beaters. The ten foot long poles were crowned with a paddle of chicken wire stretched over a stiff wire loop, the operator simply used it to beat out flames.

  Archie had about fifty metres to go, but the other quad was closing fast, the bat twirling again. Barely slowing Archie grabbed the first pole in the rack, couched the paddle under his arm and let the pole sit out in front of him over the handlebars. The other quad was nearly on him and the rider had clearly seen Archie’s’ intention. At ten metres Archie lifted the beater, now for all the world a knights lance, and opened the throttle.

  Chapter 16

  The end of Archie’s lance was jumping madly; he hadn’t expected it to be quite so uncontrollable. It was also very heavy and the weight had started to hurt his arm and shoulder but he held as firm as he could. It was almost too late by the time Archie had the pole under control but with a final effort he managed to steady the lance and with a sharp twist of the handlebars tried to unseat the black clad figure on the other quad.

  The man had seen what was coming and at the last second jinked his quad away but Archie still managed to fetch him a glancing blow to the elbow but not before the man had made a shattering contact with the lance which travelled up the hard, dry pole and caused Archie’s fingers to vibrate painfully. The man immediately slowed, stopped and clutched his injured arm.

  Archie stopped his quad and looked round at the man, shaking his hand to try to regain the feeling in is fingers. Options for his next move reeled through Archie’s mind as he sat watching the black clad figure. He could turn tail and drive but Archie could see from the markings on the fuel tank that the other quad had a 750cc engine and would easily outstrip his in a straight chase. He could try the joust again, maybe this time he could unseat the man. He could pull out the Blaser and hold the man at gun point but everything in him rebelled at pointing a gun at a human being. Gun safety had been drilled into him ever since he had his first air rifle and the founding tenet was that you never point a gun at anything you don’t wish to kill.

  Suddenly Archie didn’t need to answer his own question - a snarl for the other quad told him all he needed to know. The man was coming for him. A cold dread fell through Archie’s gut, the man looked big and he looked angry, the baseball bat twirling above his head and a stream of obscenities pouring from his lips.

  The feeling of panic cleared and Archie could see clearly what he had to do. He sat still, the lance resting on the handlebars and put on his best frightened face. However, with a subtle movement of his thumb he increased the revs of the engine whilst holding tight onto the brake lever, the man couldn’t possibly hear above his own engine, Archie just hoped that he wouldn’t notice his hand clamped tightly around the brake lever, holding the machine back.

  The man was clearly committed to his attack and had fallen for the frightened rabbit act. Archie let him come, 20 metres, 10, 5, then let go of the brake and thumbed the throttle fully open, the quad lurched forward, chunky tyres scrabbling for grip on the gravel surface. At the same time Archie raised his makeshift lance and struck the man squarely in the stomach. Archie’s lance snapped with a sound like a rifle sho
t and the man was hurled backwards from the quad, arms flailing uselessly and his baseball bat flying from his grip.

  Archie stopped the quad and looked at the man groaning on the ground…another man groaning on the ground. This was getting to be a habit. Archie sat with his emotions in turmoil while the man rolled over and sat up shakily.

  “What do you want?” called Archie above his engine noise “Why are you people trying to hurt me? Where’s my father?” The man replied with a stream of obscenities, many of which Archie only half understood.

  The man was trying to stand up and quick as a leopard Archie darted over to the bigger quad, tweaked the key from the ignition and hurled it into the bush. Archie remounted his own quad and immediately felt safer. He could easily outrun the man now…but first he wanted some answers. The man staggered a little and Archie could see the ashen colour of his face through the visor. He lurched towards Archie but with a flick of the throttle Archie soon put a few metres between them. The man seemed to realise the futility of trying to get to Archie and sat down again on the dusty track, hunched over, trying to relieve the pain of his injury. Without warning the man vomited copiously between his knees, the sour fluid spattering his trousers.

  Archie put aside his revulsion and tried again. “What do you want from me?” The man looked up but said nothing. An odd sort of feeling rippled through Archie and he knew, certainly, what was about to happen. Sure enough the shadow fell again across the path from behind him. He didn’t need to look around to know what was behind him; the fetid smell told him all he needed to know. That and the terror stricken expression in the man’s eyes.

  The shadow started to move and instinctively Archie held up his hand to halt the creature. To his amazement the shadow stopped moving. The expression in the man’s eyes changed from terror to bewilderment. The kid had this creature under his control. The man started to sit up shakily and raised a hand to remove his helmet. The creature took another pace forward. Archie saw the shadow begin to move and tried the raised hand again. It worked. The shadow stopped.

  “Look” the man stammered “just keep that thing on a leash, eh”.

  “It’s OK” called back Archie “I won’t let him hurt you” Archie was improvising madly and sincerely hoped that he really could restrain the animal. “Just don’t make any sudden movements and you’ll be fine”. Suddenly, an image of the other injured man popped into Archie’s mind. “Look, one of your mates is lying injured back along the road. He needs medical help, I think his leg is broken. Give me 10 minutes to get going and then go and get him, he’s about ten kilometres that way”. Archie pointed in the direction he had come from. “My friend here will watch you”. Archie had no idea if he would but suspected that he wouldn’t let the man out of his sight.

  To add some credence to his statement Archie turned to the creature, with some trepidation, and pointed to his own eyes, then pointed to the man, then pointed at the animal. It made a low rumble deep in its chest and pointed slowly to its own eyes. Archie was so taken aback at it’s response that he almost let his incredulity show. Could it really have understood him? It seemed obvious that it had. But why shouldn’t it? The creature had demonstrated its intelligence time and again.

  Chapter 17

  Archie took a final backward glance at the creature, hopped back on his quad and slowly rode away from the bizarre scene. With his pack stashed in the transport box, the quad engine burbling pleasantly underneath him and the sun on his back Archie at last felt some hope that he would make it to Cheticamp and the authorities. An hour passed and Archie’s mind, naturally for a teenager, began to drift towards food. Up ahead Archie could see a bluff standing over a small pool, shaded with maples and looking very inviting. Just half an hour he thought, rest a while, try and make sense of the strange images he had been subjected to over the past few days. Without another thought he swung the quad off the track, parked it in the dense brush, out of sight of the track and climbed slowly down. Almost immediately a wave of tiredness hit him and it was all he could do to make it to a grassy bank before he collapsed and fell into a deep sleep.

  Archie slept without dreams or movement and awoke feeling stiff and clammy a few hours later. He felt grubby and his breath would have knocked a bear clean out. The pool looked inviting so he stripped of his filthy clothes, rinsed them through in the pool and hung them in the sun. Then he slipped slowly into the water and swam the few strokes the pool would allow. Archie turned on his back and floated, eyes closed and semi-conscious, until a small ‘plop’ brought him back.

  Archie’s eyes snapped open and searched for the source of the noise. Small circular ripples were spreading where something had fallen into the water. He squinted against the sun, there was a figure standing on the bluff. With the sun behind it, the figure was merely a silhouette to Archie, impossible to gauge size or features. His heart sank, at any moment he expected the shot to come. But nothing happened. The figure merely stood there, as though it were examining him – or perhaps plucking up courage to speak.

  “Archie? Archie Hunter?” A young female voice asked. Archie was immediately thrown into confusion; this was not what he had expected at all.

  “You are Archie aren’t you?” The softly Canadian voice persisted, with some irritation.

  “Yeees” answered Archie with suspicion, “who are you?” It was all he could think of to say.

  “Get out, we need to make a plan” the girl said in in no uncertain terms. It was only now that Archie suddenly noticed his own state of undress. She sensed him dithering.

  “Jeez, just get on with it, I’ve got bigger brothers than you”, she glanced down, “much bigger”. Archie coloured slightly but decided that the best course of action was to tough it out so he gathered his pride and marched out of the pool, plucking his boxers from their maple tree drying rack as he went. He tried to step into them casually but they clung to his wet legs and sent him sprawling into the undergrowth. There was a snort from on top of the bluff, followed by a strangled guffaw and some barely suppressed giggling.

  Archie took the opportunity of being hidden by the bushes to pull on his boxers and then casually sauntered over to the rest of his clothes, hoping his trip hadn’t been noticed – fat chance.

  He looked up and saw the girl expertly descending from the rocky outcrop, dancing from ledge to ledge, her feet and calves clad in tight Ariat riding boots. Her long glossy hair billowed and floated at each light step, her chin held high and proud. An odd, new feeling hit Archie in the pit of his stomach. He was captivated by her long slender legs, clad in their skin-tight riding breeches. She jumped the last half metre, and landed facing Archie. She planted her hands on her hips and sighed.

  “Archie, I’m up here”.

  “Wha…oh, sorry” Archie looked up and met a pair of eyes that captured his heart in an instant.

  “Archie” she barked, “focus. My Dad has your Dad. He’s locked in a storage container, he’s trying to get him to give up his investigations, deny that the

  Sasquatch exists and go home. He’s sent his goons out to find you so that there are no loose ends.” Archie stood, dumbfounded as he took in all this new information.

  “Then that’s why that guy took a pop at me”

  “ Yeah, well, that was Karl, he’s a bit of a loose cannon, even Dad doesn’t trust him. He broke a guy’s neck once, with his bare hands. You probably shouldn’t have upset him”.

  “Upset him, he bloody shot at me!” Archie was becoming more and more concerned with every new scrap of information. “Anyway, I don’t think he’ll be hurting anyone again” Archie added darkly. “And as a matter of interest, how did you know?”

  “I spy on my father, listen in, eavesdrop, that kind of thing” the girl said proudly. “he’s a monster” she added casually. Archie was confused.

  “So why does he want to protect the Sasquatch”.

  “You idiot, he doesn’t want to protect it, he wants to sell it. You know, to the highest bidder, maybe
a TV station, a private collector. Dead or alive. He paid off your dad’s guide…didn’t you think it was odd that he didn’t help, that he hasn’t come looking for you?”

  “I guess” replied Archie, “I don’t know the guy, but Dad did seem to trust him. Now I come to think of it, he looked pretty shifty when the two bogus Mounties turned up. Another thing, how did you know where to find me?”

  “I’ve been following you ever since I overheard Karl call into my dad about his canoe getting taken, he gave dad his position and I jumped on Syrup and rode straight out. No one knows where I am” she added conspiratorially. He’s still alive then thought Archie, but didn’t voice it. The blow with the Dutch Oven must have just knocked him out and he cleared up the camp himself, or someone helped him.

  “Syrup?”

  “My horse”

  “Daft name”

  “I know, her mother was called Maple so I guess it was inevitable, you like horses?”

  “Yeah, we have Garrons for bringing beasts off the hill” Archie told her, slipping into the arcane language of the Highland estate.

  “Garrons? Beasts off the hill?” the girl queried.

  “Garrons are our highland pony, bred specially for carrying culled deer from the hill to the larder” Look, we shouldn’t get side tracked, tell me where my dad is and how I can rescue him”.

  “Larder?”

  “I’ll explain later, just tell me” said Archie with some irritation.

  “OK. Your dad is in Ingonish at my dad’s storage business. He’s locked in container number 314, it’s right at the back, left hand side. It’s locked with two monster padlocks and dad keeps the key on him. But they cut a hole in the roof and fitted an air conditioner. All we’ll have to do is avoid the guards, unbolt the a/c unit and the job is done.