Beneath a Winter Moon

by Shawson M Hebert

  “Can I please have something to drink…and some food if that’s okay?” Alan asked as he moved past two other officers and toward the couch.

  Russeux nodded toward Alan. “This is Alan Tucker, gentlemen.”

  The men stared. “As you can see,” Russeux said. “He is alive and although I’m sure he’s had better days, he looks to be alright. One of you radio Mountain Rescue that we have him.”

  “I’ll do it,” the younger of the two officers said. Russeux nodded and the man walked outside. An older man in a flight suit, tall and dark, obviously Native Indian, stared at Alan.

  “This is officer Snow Eagle.” Russeux said. “We call him Snow for short. He is one of the pilots that have been looking for you and the Svensons.”

  “We know each other,” Alan said, leaning forward on the couch. “We see each other at the airfield and we both know Steven and Jenny….and Kyle.”

  Snow nodded. “You look like you have been through hell, Alan.”

  “Yes...I have been,” Alan said, simply. “Please…I need water and food if you have it.”

  Russeux started to move, but Snow held up a hand. “I’ve got water, coffee, and some breakfast bars over in my pack. Will that do?”

  Alan smiled. “Absolutely. Thanks…I feel like I could eat a horse.”

  Snow raised an eyebrow and glanced at Russeux. “Apparently you weren’t the only one.” He walked outside to grab his pack from the helicopter.

  “Oh,” Alan said quietly. “I forgot about those poor horses.”

  “Were you here when they were attacked?”

  “No, no…I think they were attacked the night before we all came over. And…can you tell me how Constable O’Reilly and the others are? Were any of them attacked?

  Russeux held up a hand. “Before we get into that, I have questions for you…a lot of questions, but I will try to go slow. Let me start by asking you about the blood on your clothing…the rips and tears in your shirt and jacket.”

  Alan grimaced. “I was attacked, but I can’t remember what it was that did it. I keep seeing images…just flashes really. I think it was a bear… judging by the claw marks, anyway.”

  “You can’t remember at all?”

  “I can’t remember anything after sitting here on the couch with the constable and the others…but I do keep seeing flashes of something…I think it had to be a bear. Like I said, the claw marks…”

  “Claw marks where?”

  “On me…on my chest and shoulder.” Alan saw the puzzled look on the Russeux’s face. “Well, like I said, they healed so fast…it’s amazing, really, but here…” He pulled down the neck of the shirt.

  Russeux sat down beside Alan and leaned to get a good look. What he saw raised a warning flag of suspicion. “Alan, those are scars.”

  Alan looked down at the huge claw marks. “Well, they may look like scars, but that’s where the thing clawed me. It’s my blood and this is what I was wearing when it attacked me…”

  “The thing…” Russeux interrupted, calmly. “These marks were made night before last—by a thing…but you just said you thought it was a bear.”

  “I’m trying to tell you what happened,” Alan said. He heard the anger in his voice and sighed. He shook his head. Snow Eagle was standing in front of them now, looking down at the scars. “I can’t explain it,” Alan continued. “But these wounds were fresh. They were open and bleeding everywhere. I even think I could hear bubbles and I could see foamy blood on my chest as I ran. I thought I would bleed to death.”

  Snow looked at Russeux. “Here is a breakfast bar and some water. You have to eat slowly, Alan…and once you have some of that bar down and some water in you, I can give you some warm coffee.”

  “Snow, please call the doc in here, now,” Russeux said. “Let’s get Alan checked out and make sure he is fit to fly back out.”

  “I can fly,” Alan exclaimed. “I can fly my own plane back. The one at the dock is mine…”

  “Easy, Alan….let’s take things slowly, here. You have been through a lot. You’ve been attacked, stuck out in the cold without food, water, or shelter. We have to let the doc take a look…then we will fly you back to the hospital and go from there.”

  “But…my plane...”

  “Your plane is fine,” Russeux said softly. “We can have Snow fly it back, soon. We can leave it here…just for now.”

  Alan reached out and took the breakfast bar and bottle of water. He ripped open the wrapper and took a huge bite.

  “Slowly…” Snow said. He nodded to Russeux. “I’ll get the doc.”

  “Alan, you stay put while I go and talk with Snow for a minute. I’ll check to see if I can find you some better, chow, too,” Russeux said.

  Alan nodded.

  Russeux stared at the young man for a moment, then followed Snow out the door. Walking behind Snow, Russeux asked, “Did you hear that story? The scars on his chest look at least a couple years old, and he is passing them off as from two days ago.”

  Snow ducked into the new command tent, then turned. “His clothes tell the story of an attack…that is for sure. The lack of wounds—and those scars—they just don’t add up, though. Can you, in your wildest imagination, explain why anyone would put on a set of clothes that are obviously off of one of those men who were attacked?”

  “Our newest corpse is naked, Snow. What Alan is wearing might be from him.”

  “Jeff Parker’s body? Maybe…and we also know that the wounds inflicted on that man could not have been perpetrated by a human.” He shook his head. “It had to be a bear.” Snow checked some wiring on the back of the huge radio. “I can’t believe we still use these old monsters. This has to be the oldest radio on the planet.”

  Russeux ignored the comment. “Okay, so we have Alan, here, wearing a set of clothes that must have come from someone who was attacked. We have the naked corpse of a Jeff Parker, who, by the way, has been listed as missing for over a year. We have Kyle, burned to a crisp. Hell, we have eight bodies in total…a veritable mass murder…all victims appearing to have been killed by animals…so far the consensus is a rogue bear…or a pair of them.” Russeux paused and stared at Snow, who was slapping the back of the radio. “I can handle that these were bear attacks, Snow…but that kid…dressed in the clothes of one of the mangled bodies out there? Well, I can’t get that to compute. Tell me, how well do you know him?”

  Snow pushed a button on the radio and it lit up, making a sad whirring sound. “There she goes.” He sat down in a folding chair position next to the table and radio and looked up at Russeux. “Just like he said. We see each other from time to time at the airfield, and we have friends in common. That’s it.” He slapped the radio again. “Whatever this kid saw has traumatized him. Anyone can see that. We can’t push him too hard, James. What we need to do is just what you said. Get the doc to look at him, then get him back to civilization, under some care.”

  Russeux nodded. “I’d like to at least push him just a little on those so-called flashes of memory…images of what he called a thing.”

  Snow, held the radio mic in his hand, pushed the talk-button. “This is Eagle base to Echo three, over.”

  As he waited for a reply, Snow said, “Let me talk to him a bit. I think I might get somewhere with him. After all, he is familiar with me. It’s just a feeling. I think he might open up to me.”

  Russeux rubbed his chin.

  “This is Echo Three,” the radio squawked.

  “Echo Three, we have a survivor here. One Alan Tucker. Male…approximately twenty-five. He appears to be okay, physically, but we need you to come in and verify…check him out.”

  “Who is the survivor, again?”

  “Alan Tucker. We need you to come in and give him a once-over so he can travel.”

  “Alright, Eagle base. My preliminary work on these…bodies…is over now. Animal attacks just as I said…same as the others.”

  Russeux reached for the receiver. “This is Eagle six actual. Have
you heard anything new from the trackers?”

  “Nothing new since you called them in.”

  “Okay. What is your ETA?”

  “About twenty minutes if the weather holds. Maybe a little more.”

  “Roger, Echo Three. Eagle six actual, out.” Russeux handed the mic back to Snow. “As soon as the doc gets here and checks out the kid, I’m going out to the other bodies.” He frowned at the thought of seeing more of the mangled bodies…especially the constable and the young corporal.

  Snow extended his hand toward the folding chair opposite him, and Russeux sat down.

  “How long do you think we have before this hits the airwaves?” Snow asked.

  Russeux sighed. “Maybe till this afternoon. We have a lot of radio traffic on different bands…someone is going to get a hold of this, probably a reporter.”

  “And they will say it was bears…” Snow stated flatly.

  “Yup. And this sets a record surpassing ten years of attacks…combined. When the hunters find out that the bears are still out there—and for the record I do think that whatever attacked these people had company. There were more than one—we will have a real P R mess on our hands.”

  “Do the forensic guys have enough evidence? We could get them out of here…and make them sign a privacy statement.”

  “Phil and his guys say that the evidence is conclusive. Everyone here was attacked…while alive…by an animal.”

  “And it was likely a bear,” Snow reminded him.

  Russeux sighed.

  “Doesn’t it matter that we haven’t seen any bear tracks, scat, or other evidence anywhere near the cabin? Don’t those strange wolf-like tracks in the barn worry him at all with regard to his conclusions?” Snow asked.

  “Would you rather lay the blame on a huge, mutant, wolf? Either way we get the same results. Bad press, a pack of hunters bent on killing anything with claws...and family members of the deceased who will be rightly skeptical that some dumb animals got the drop on so many grown men with guns.”

  Snow thought about that for a minute, then snapped his fingers. “We could get the territory locked down. It’s been done before.”

  “I thought about that…and I might request it.” Russeux shook his head. “But, the government will be really cautious when it comes to stomping on civil rights. I’m not sure an animal attack, even one of this magnitude, will do it for them.”

  “We need that kid to open up.”

  “We also need the Svensons and their hunting party. I have a really, really bad feeling about them.”

  “If they are out there, hunting, without any knowledge of this…”

  “They might be right in the path of one or more rogue grizzlies with a mind to hunt down humans…” Russeux finished.

  Russeux stood up. “I’ll get the kid some more food and wait for the doc. Soon as he gives the word, you fly him out.”

  Snow nodded. Russeux threw up his hands and shook his head as he left the tent. There was so much here that didn’t fit. It was not so much that there were pieces missing as it were that the pieces they had didn’t fit together.

  Kyle is attacked and killed by an animal, presumably. Then, someone…maybe a Good Samaritan who doesn’t know he’s tampering with evidence…tries to burn the body. Alan and his two friends show up and shoot up the house. Then O’Reilly and his two corporals arrive. They send Alan’s companions back, keeping Alan here. They find the burned body and remains in the barn. Then…the constable has his corporal bring back Brad and his team of dogs for tracking. For some reason he goes after the man on horseback…in the dead of night. Meanwhile, everyone back at the cabin, to include the pilots of the helicopter…are attacked and killed. A long since presumed-dead Jeff Parker is also found, beheaded and mauled…his corpse completely naked. Somewhere during the same night, the constable is killed along with his remaining corporal, and the tracker. Everyone but Alan. Alan must try to remember.

  How did Alan get away? How did he escape being tracked down and killed by the animal in the same manner that the constable was? Why was he wearing clothes that obviously came from someone, probably the Parker, who had been attacked? Why was he claiming that he had been attacked as well? Why couldn’t he remember?

  Was there even a crime, here? Snow felt that there was something a lot more sinister than some rogue grizzlies involved with this but he had no evidence to prove it. Either way, Alan was the key. He was sure of it.

  He also felt that Jeremiah, all alone in his cabin to the North, might know something. He had no evidence of that…just a gut feeling, but he trusted that feeling. He hoped that Russeux would see fit to bring Jeremiah in for questioning…hell…bring him in for his own protection.

  God help the Svensons and their group if they were stalked by this animal or animals. Apparently, having guns wasn’t much of a leg up against these particular beasts.

  A half hour later Snow was finishing his flight check on the helicopter when Russeux called him back to the cabin. The doctor had arrived and was examining Alan. Alan lay on the couch, shirtless; with the doctor listening to him breathe. Snow grimaced when he saw Alan’s scars. The wide, thick indentations looked like they had been left by a human hand—which had clawed the young man from one side of his chest to the other. Several dark brown patches of dried blood covered Alan’s upper torso and his waist. Had he been without a shirt when he was attacked? Was that the blood of one of the victims?

  Russeux stood with his arms folded across his chest. He motioned toward the door. Snow met him outside on the porch, frowning. “The doc is freaked out by those scars. He thinks they were made by a human.”

  “That was my first thought, too…looks just like someone…maybe an overzealous girlfriend…might have clawed the hell out of him.”

  Russeux shook his head. “That’s just it. The doc measured them. Couldn’t have been a person—well—not a normal-sized person. The marks are too far apart and too deep for human fingernails.”

  “What then? And what do Alan’s old scars have to do with all of this?”

  “I don’t know yet…except that the boy still claims that the wounds are from night before last. He claims that he had a flight physical last month and that the records will show he had no scars or tattoos. I have radioed in to have someone check it out.”

  Snow shook his head. “I’m with the doc. Those scars cannot have come from wounds that happened anytime soon. No way.”

  “My head tells me so, Snow…but my gut is crawling…my gut tells me that this kid had more happen to him than we believe.”

  Snow shook his head. “Anything else?”

  “He has signs of psychological trauma—big time. He is ambivalent to the deaths and defensiveness has replaced any concern related to the attacks. The doc says it is likely PTSD. Then, there is the memory loss, also due to trauma, according to the doc.”

  Snow nodded. “You and I thought as much when we talked earlier.”

  “Yeah.” Russeux looked through the broken doorway and forced a smile when he saw Alan glance at him. “Another thing…his temperature is sky high. We are talking 103 degrees. Yet the kid shows no signs of illness and is not sweating…no chills…nothing. Heart rate is accelerated beyond anything normal.”

  “You are losing me, James. All of that is interesting…I agree it might even be extraordinary…but how does it help us?”

  Russeux shook his head. “I don’t know. Fourteen years of experience is…well…it’s telling me Alan is somehow involved.”

  “Involved as in criminally’ involved?” Snow grimaced. “Come on…we have nothing…nothing that points to anything other than animal attacks. As bad and unprecedented as these attacks are…there is nothing to show they are criminal. Hell, how could they be if animals did the killing? And, imagine trying to find a motive for all of this destruction?”

  “I’m not disagreeing…but I am telling you that I think this kid is knee deep in something. Something that is close to these events.”


  “Are we still going to get him out of here?”

  “Yes…we need to get him to a hospital …doctor’s orders. He needs to be observed and checked out because of that fever…and we need him to remember what happened here.”

  Snow nodded.

  “We have blood samples from his body and from the clothing…I’m sending them back along with other samples. I am telling you…the kid swears we are going to see that the blood is his…that it is from the night of the attacks.”

  Snow frowned. In all his years with the force, most of them within the enlisted ranks as a Sergeant, he had never investigated or been near an investigation of an unnatural death…much less anything like the carnage here. This beautiful landscape, indeed the whole of Canada would be changed by these events, he knew. There had been four deaths attributed to bears in the last eight years, and now there were eight deaths at once, and each one having been declared, although it was preliminary, to have been animal attacks, most likely one or two Grizzlies.

  He sighed, thinking of how this could turn this part of the country into the land of the rabid bear. The public would go crazy. There would be books and documentaries of all kinds, not to mention reporters, authors, and thrill-seekers infiltrating the town, changing it from a seasonal tourist attraction to the year-round stop for crazies.

  Snow snapped out of the gloom and looked at Russeux. “Did you think over what I asked? Can I question him?”

  Russeux nodded. “I was hoping you would work on him on the flight back to the hospital. Make it so that it’s just you and him in the cabin section …maybe you can get something out of him before he is officially locked down tight by the doctors at the hospital. I’ve arranged for the pilots to land him right on the hospital pad, where doctors will be waiting to admit him.”

  Snow nodded.

  “One more thing, Snow...the government isn’t going to let me handle this for long. I’ve received word that Parliament is going to send top brass up here, with better forensics and a whole slew of investigators as well as two of the top trackers in the nation. I am pretty sure that I will be back at my desk come nightfall.”