Clay came running through the bushes. He was levering another bullet into the chamber of the Winchester as he rushed in. But before he could get off another shot, the brown bigfoot was on him, striking him with a powerful blow that sent Clay wheeling backward. He hit the ground hard, losing his rifle.
Looking at its bloody shoulder, the brown bigfoot only seemed to get angrier and ran at Mia, who stepped back between the bushes, only to slip as her feet went out from under her and she fell flat on her stomach.
Suddenly, she was sliding down a steep embankment, riding down a chute filled with fallen leaves and mud with her hands out in front of her, her nails clawing into the wet earth in an attempt to slow down her descent but to no avail. She continued rocketing down, finally reaching the bottom but not before tumbling across the gravelly ground and striking her head on a rock, rendering her unconscious.
***
Clay sat up and pulled the .38 Remington out of his waistband but by then the brown bigfoot had run off into the woods. He slipped the gun back under his belt and picked up his rifle.
He went over to Alden. The bigfoot was covered with twigs and leaves from rolling around on the ground, fighting the other creature. He looked a little battered around the face as there was a cut above his right eye, and blood seeping out the corner of his mouth. He moved about stiffly like a defeated prizefighter that had just undergone a grueling twelve rounds.
Clay looked around for Mia but didn’t see her anywhere.
Alden grunted and ambled between two bushes. Clay followed the bigfoot to the edge of an embankment that sloped sharply down about 100 feet to a rocky bottom.
“Oh, my God,” he said, once he spotted Mia lying down there on what appeared to be a dried up riverbed. “How are we going to get down?”
Alden looked over at Clay, and as if to answer the man’s question, stepped off the edge and fell back on his back onto the chute.
Clay watched the bigfoot slide down to the bottom and take a tumble before regaining his footing. “What the hell.” Clay held the rifle across his chest and skidded down the chute.
He went all the way down and rolled out onto the pebbly ground. He scrambled to his feet and rushed over to Mia. Alden was crouched beside her and was poking her side with his fat forefinger.
“Mia, are you all right?” Clay asked, dropping to his knees. He gave her a gentle shake.
Mia slowly opened her eyes.
“Thank God,” Clay said, leaning down and giving her a kiss on the lips.
Alden grunted a few times unable to contain his excitement.
“I saw him,” Mia said faintly.
“Who?” Clay asked.
“I saw Casey. He’s with a female bigfoot.”
“Are you sure?”
“Clay, she was nursing our son, like it was her own.”
“Oh my God, that’s crazy.”
Once Mia was back on her feet, Clay craned his neck and looked up at the steep canyon walls. It was one thing coming down the chute but it would be an impossible feat attempting to scale back up.
“This must be the gorge that Micah was talking about,” Clay said.
“The one place he told us not to go,” Mia said.
“I guess now we know why.”
“And here we are, with no backpacks,” Clay said, his voice resounding. “Stuck down here with no food or water.”
Alden made a guttural sound, turned, and started ambling into the gulch.
“Where’s he off to?”
“Maybe he knows a way out,” Mia said.
“Let’s hope so.”
Clay and Mia followed behind Alden without question, like he was their personal guide for the day, taking them on a leisurely nature walk in the park.
31
Ethan knew by the intensity of Blu’s barking that his dog had something cornered and wanted the world to know. He stepped up his pace and jogged up the trail, readying his rifle as he ran, making sure there was a cartridge set in the chamber in the event that he had to get off a quick shot.
But when he finally reached the spot where the enthusiastic dog was keeping his quarry at bay, Ethan immediately knew that he wasn’t going to get a clear shot without running the risk of accidentally shooting Blu.
Blu was perched on a rock ledge almost eye level with the black bigfoot, its back pressed up against a granite wall. Spittle flew out of Blu’s mouth as he snarled and snapped his teeth.
The bigfoot growled and took a swing at his tormentor, but Blu managed to dodge the blow, standing his ground as he growled back.
Ethan slipped his backpack off and laid down his rifle.
Even though the bigfoot stood well over eight feet tall, Ethan, too, was a big man at six-foot-five. He drew his forty-five and pulled out his machete. If this creature wanted a fight, he was more than obliged to give it one.
“Blu, back down,” Ethan yelled.
The coonhound kept barking and taunting the bigfoot.
Ethan knew the dog couldn’t hear him with all the noise it was making, so he started to advance, figuring if he got close enough, he could get a headshot and end it right there.
A forty-five-caliber slug could do considerable damage, especially when it entered the brainpan.
Again, Ethan called out to Blu to back away, but he might as well have been yelling at a tree and telling it to uproot itself.
He was ten feet away, about to pull back the hammer on his handgun when the bigfoot suddenly lunged, clipping Blu alongside his right flank and sending him flying off the rock ledge right into Ethan. The dog fell away and landed on the ground.
The powerful bigfoot plowed into Ethan, knocking his gun out of his hand, and driving him up against the rock wall. He still had the machete in his other hand, but he was unable to swing the blade because it was pinned between them. Instead, he tried stabbing the creature with the tool’s hooked tip.
But that became impossible as the bigfoot pressed up against Ethan with the intent of crushing him with its massive weight. Ethan twisted the handle of the machete, which turned the double-edge blade. As the creature continued to push its body into Ethan, the blade between them began cutting through both their chests. The more the bigfoot leaned on Ethan, the deeper the blade dug into their flesh.
At some point, the bigfoot must have realized that there was something wrong with its tactic, as it should have been experiencing some degree of pain.
The bigfoot took a step back and glanced down at its once black-furred chest now covered with a crimson coat of blood, which suddenly infuriated the creature.
Ethan snatched his gun from the ground just as the bigfoot reached down. He aimed up and fired his gun at the enormous outstretched hand about to grab him.
The high-caliber bullet punched such a large damaging hole that Ethan could see right through the creature’s hand.
The bigfoot howled, clutching its wounded hand. It lumbered out between the rocks and stomped off into the forest.
Ethan unzipped his jacket and opened his shirt. The gash across his chest wasn’t as deep as he had originally feared as the material of the down coat and his thick flannel shirt had served as buffering pads against the sharp blade. He figured the bigfoot probably suffered more.
He watched as Blu limped over and sat down in the dirt.
“Looks like you and I took quite a little beating,” Ethan said, and gave his dog a well-deserved pat on the head.
Blu stretched out on the ground.
“Yes, I agree. Let’s just stay put and rest for a while,” Ethan said, keeping one eye on the trail below, wondering how long they would have to wait before Clay, Mia, and Alden showed up.
32
They’d been hiking nonstop for the better part of five hours when Landon spotted the smoke lingering in the treetops. He’d given the signal to the twins to split up, as he didn’t want them to be easy targets, walking up the trail in single-file formation like a family of ducks.
Landon stayed low and crept through
the trees. He knelt behind a bush and peered between the branches at the shack in the small clearing. The source of the smoke was coming out of the chimney, which was a good indicator that someone was inside.
Seeing as they had followed the tracks up to this very spot, meant that whoever was in there, had to have crossed paths with James, one way or the other. And chances were, that very person could be his killer.
Landon looked to his left and saw Jacob, hiding behind the trunk of a tree. He turned and spotted Mason, who was close by.
“Mason!” Landon yelled.
The big man turned and looked over in Landon’s direction.
“Go up to the door and get ready.”
Mason nodded that he understood. He crept over to the shack and pointed the muzzle of his AR-15 at the door.
“Whoever’s inside, come out!” Landon hollered.
There was no reply.
Landon signaled Mason and the man kicked in the door. It was difficult to see anything inside, as it was pitch dark. Landon moved from his position and joined Mason at the opposite side of the doorway.
Jacob had moved in closer and was knelt behind a stump, with his shotgun ready.
Landon glanced in quickly and moved his head back, expecting to be fired upon, but he wasn’t.
“We know you’re in there. We see your smoke.”
Still, there was no answer.
Landon looked across the open doorway at Mason. “Go in, I’ll cover you.”
Mason didn’t hesitate. He stepped right in.
And that’s when Landon saw the bearskin rug just inside, directly where his brother was about to step.
“Stop!” Landon yelled.
Mason’s boot hovered over the bearskin rug, and hung there for a second, before he retracted his step.
“Shit, bro,” Mason said, giving Landon a puzzled look.
Landon saw a rock the size of a grapefruit on the ground and picked it up. He leaned in and tossed the rock onto the bearskin rug. The hide folded in two as the giant teeth of the bear trap snapped shut with a muffled clang.
“Jesus,” Mason said. He triggered the machinegun and fired a steady burst into the dark interior.
Their ears were still ringing from the gunfire as the smoke cleared when a single gunshot flared in the darkness. Mason jolted backward as the slug ripped into his shoulder and knocked him outside, flat on his back.
Landon pointed his rifle in the doorway and levered off four quick shots. He dropped the rifle and drew his revolver out of his shoulder holster.
Jacob was already running over to help his brother. And he was also carrying something in his hand. A flaming Maltese cocktail made from a burning jar of moonshine.
“No, wait!” Landon yelled, but he was too late to stop Jacob as the man was already lobbing the incendiary through the open doorway.
Jacob reached down and started pulling Mason away from the shack. “I figured if you wanted them out, we should burn them out.”
But all Landon could think of was their money crop down below. “You stupid fool. You know what you’ve done? You’ve gone and set fire to this entire mountain.”
Jacob caught on real quick. “Ah, shit.” He let go of Mason and ran over to Landon. “What do we do?”
But by then, the interior of the shack was engulfed in flames. The fire was so intense that the heat drove them back.
They watched the burning structure surrounded by pine trees, knowing that at any moment, the canopy would catch fire, and the entire forest would become an inferno.
33
Landon watched fretfully through the open doorway as the fire inside the shack lapped up the interior walls and the flames burned up through the roof, igniting the cover of dead pine needles. The single window had melted from the heat of the conflagration.
Even as the fiery blaze raged, he hadn’t heard a single cry for mercy or a scream from inside the building, which he thought strange, but then maybe he had plugged the poor bastard and spared him from being roasted alive and suffering an excruciating death.
The entire roof was ablaze as the flames reached upward, searching for more fuel. Overhead, the low branches of the pine trees were like sacrificial totems.
Landon knew if the trees caught fire they would be in serious trouble, and most likely would be trapped with no way of escaping a wildfire, that once it spread, would surely turn into an unstoppable firestorm.
He backed away as the heat intensified.
There was a loud crackling.
The roof came down in a blazing heap of sparks and crashing embers as the four exterior walls collapsed inward.
The entire structure fell into a large pit as if the ground had suddenly opened up, and in a matter of only a few seconds, the fire was no more a threat than a campfire contained in a fire pit.
“Holy shit, did you see that?” Jacob yelled.
By then the tips of the flames were barely extending above ground level.
Landon wiped his brow, thankful that he no longer had to worry about a wildfire scorching the mountainside and eventually decimating their pot field.
He walked over to the twins.
Mason was sitting on a stump and had his coat and shirt off. Jacob was tending to the gunshot wound to his brother’s right shoulder.
“You’re lucky I’m not going to have to dig that out. Bullet went right through,” Jacob said, wrapping the wound.
“Jacob’s right. This must be your lucky day. If I hadn’t said something, you would have stepped in that bear trap. I’m betting you would have lost more than a couple toes,” Landon said.
“Like he needs to lose more toes,” Jacob laughed.
“Shut up, Jacob,” Mason said, glaring at his brother with his one eye. “I would have seen it if it weren’t for my blindside.”
“You going to be up for traveling?” Landon asked.
“It don’t hurt that much,” Mason said. He stood and let Jacob help him with his shirt.
“I spotted some more tracks leading up that way,” Mason said, pulling on his coat.
“Good, ‘cause after just getting bushwhacked, I’m in a bit of a killing mood.”
34
“Be careful you don’t…” Mia tried to warn Clay, but it was already too late.
Clay’s foot had slipped on the rock face and he was sliding down to the ground.
“This is the fifth spot I’ve tried to climb up. I doubt if a professional rock climber could get out of this place.” Clay blew on his hands, scraped raw from yet another unexpected descent down the rock face.
Alden had only paused for a moment to watch Clay’s failed attempt and continued on his ambling way.
Clay and Mia strolled after the bigfoot.
“Have you noticed?” Mia said.
“Noticed what?”
“Just look around, don’t you see a difference?”
Clay had been too concerned, concentrating solely on how they might get out of the gorge, that he hadn’t bothered paying attention to the drastic change in scenery. Now that he glanced about, he had to agree with Mia. The terrain around them was different.
There were no trees or shrubs in the gorge, only the wide gravelly riverbed that had to be two hundred feet wide. The rock cliffs on either side were sparsely covered with greenery and speckled with various brightly colored flowers.
Up ahead was a behemoth moss-covered stone arch, one hundred feet above their heads that spanned the entire gorge. A cascading waterfall could be seen higher up on the mountain.
Everything looked almost mystical.
“And there’s something else,” Mia said.
“What’s that?” Clay asked.
“I haven’t seen a single bird or animal.”
“You know, you’re right. Neither have I.”
“Don’t you think that’s a little strange?”
Clay glanced over at Alden, who had stopped walking.
The bigfoot was gazing up at the edge of the ridge overlooking the gorge.
Clay looked up as well, as Alden curled his mouth and snarled.
“Whoa, what’s gotten into him?” Clay said, sensing the fierceness of the animal only a few feet away.
“He thinks we’re in danger,” Mia said.
35
Mason was on point, so he was the first one to see the two backpacks lying in the glen. “Hey, I found something,” he yelled back over his shoulder to Landon and Jacob coming up the trail.
He walked over to the abandoned packs and waited for his brothers.
“Well, what do we have here?” Landon said, dropping to one knee to inspect one of the bags. He untied the flap and opened the pack.
“Maybe it’s full of money,” Jacob said wishfully.
“Maybe, it’s full of a bunch of clothes,” Landon replied as he pulled out one piece of clothing after another.
Mason picked up the other backpack and rummaged through the contents. “Same here. Only this looks like something a woman would wear,” he said, and showed his brothers a pair of feminine briefs.
“Looks like we’re looking for a man and a woman then.”
Mason dropped the pack and started studying the ground around them. “No, there are more. I’m seeing the same bootprints that I saw back at the field. There’s a dog and a…”
“Yeah, there’s a dog, and what else?” Landon asked impatiently.
“Come see for yourself.”
Landon and Jacob came over and looked down at the ground where Mason was staring.
“Jesus, that looks like a bigfoot track,” Jacob said.
“Sure does,” Landon had to agree.
“Maybe they were hunting this thing and it got the better of them,” Jacob surmised.
“Looks like two of them went off that way through those shrubs,” Mason said, and pointed. He glanced down and continued to read the ground. “There’s also one set of bootprints, and the dog’s, heading up the trail.”
“Here’s what we’ll do. Mason, you follow those tracks in the brush, and Jacob, you and I will continue up the trail.”
The Beasts Of Stoneclad Mountain Page 10