About an hour later, Chase pulled into the tourist parking lot of the Seminole village on 441 and was met by a young Indian boy posted as lookout by Joe. The boy climbed in and gave Chase directions to a safe parking space inside the reservation, and about the same time Joe appeared. Twenty minutes after that, they were on the road south in Joe’s slick new Dodge Ram truck, headed for Everglades City.
During the ride, the two men cemented the bantering friendship they had started the day before. Eventually Joe pulled off the road about fifteen miles southwest of Homestead, inside the Everglades National Park and they unloaded their camping gear into a canoe. Joe explained that he and Sophie had come all the way down by canoe, making a slow, leisurely trip, but in the interests of expediency, he thought it would be better to start here. From here on out they could retrace the steps of his earlier trip.
Joe made no comment when Chase handled the canoe with easy expertise and the two men settled into a rhythm, each enjoying the silence of the wilderness so close to the noise of civilization. When Joe finally called a halt and they pulled the canoe up out of the water, Chase’s muscles were pleasantly tight from exertion. He was getting out of shape. They hiked inland a bit until they came to a small clearing and decided to take a break for lunch. Chase built a small fire and put on some coffee while Joe rummaged around in the cooler they had loaded in the canoe and came up with a couple of huge Italian sub sandwiches.
Chase arched his eyebrows inquiringly. “What? No gator tail or frog leg fricassee?” Joe’s reply, mumbled around a huge bite of sandwich was unintelligible but unmistakable. Chase laughed and took the other one, eating with gusto. “How much further?”
Joe refilled his coffee cup. “About an hour or so. Then, from the camp Sophie and I used, it’s a short hike.”
Chase was looking around. “I haven’t noticed many distinctive landmarks along the way. I don’t want to insult you by asking if you ever get lost, but this is my first time out here, and frankly, while I’m a pretty good survivalist, I would hate to get separated.”
Joe nodded. “We Indians have spent our lives out here but I have known even some experienced white hunters get easily lost. It is not commonly known just how many people are found wandering around in here and how many more, whose remains are never found. Luckily, this is Florida. If you can survive the dangers in here, eventually you will come out. This part of Florida is only about a hundred miles wide and so if you don’t head directly north, eventually you will come out. It’s the obstacles in your way and losing your direction that will get you in trouble. The mosquitoes alone can kill you if you’re not properly prepared for them.”
Chase stood up and brushed off the sand. “On that nice thought, shall we get going?” He was anxious now to reach the campsite. Although some time had passed, this was a desolate area and it was unlikely the site had been disturbed by other people. Perhaps they would be able to find something that made some sense. Chase got busy lugging their gear back to the canoe while Joe erased signs of their presence, giving their little beach back to the animals it belonged to.
Joe turned the canoe up a small channel heading east and after a while the landscape began to change, becoming sandier. Eventually, around two o’clock, Joe beached the canoe and the two men shouldered their gear and hiked inland. They came to a flat, relatively clear spot and Joe pointed to an area about a hundred yards away. “That’s where Sophie and I were camped.”
Chase was damned if he could see how Joe could tell that area from the rest. Chase couldn’t see the remains of a campfire or any signs that anyone had been there at all, but if Joe said they were here, then they were here. He squatted down thankful for the break.
Joe went rummaging in the underbrush and came out with his stash. In short order he had erected a little chickee from dried palm fronds and a cypress framework that he had disassembled and hidden from his previous trip. “All the comforts of home.” Joe grinned. Bring up my stuff will you. I brought my notes and sample case so I can save myself another trip.”
“Sample case?” Chase lugged it over to the chickee. “Samples of what?”
“Soil, water, vegetation, bugs.” Joe answered from inside the chickee. “Sometimes even dead animals or portions thereof. With the chickee up, we can stay the night if we find something interesting at the campsite and run out of daylight.”
Chase went back to the canoe for the beer. He was just lifting it out of the canoe when he tensed, his senses telling him he was not alone. Without stopping what he was doing Chase looked around. He saw nothing unusual but he knew something was there. Chase hoisted the cooler onto his shoulder and headed back toward the chickee. He hadn't gone more than a couple of steps when he heard a heavy thumping, rustling sort of sound, spooky.
Chase eased the cooler to the ground. His movements exaggeratedly slow and silent. He felt vibrations beneath his feet and simultaneously heard a sound so huge and primeval it rooted him to the spot. The ancestors within him instantly cried “dragon” and Chase was inclined to agree. The sound came again, and then an answering bellow from across the sawgrass. Then another and another. The noise reverberated in the humid air with unearthly power. Haunting bass sounds that made a peculiar music.
The rustling sound was drowned out in this strange music but in between bellows Chase heard it change to a solid dragging noise. It was coming from his left and increasing in speed.
“Don’t’ move.” Joe was close behind him and whispered in his ear.
“No chance of that.” Chase threw back. “What exactly is that and how big is it?”
“That, my friend, is the mating bellow of a bull alligator and I do believe you stand in the path between him and the object of his affections. The gator hole is off to our right.”
“Christ. It must be as big as a dinosaur. Can we just get out of here?”
“Chances are not good. He is very close and gators are extremely fast, much faster than people. When he makes his charge, run like hell towards the camp and get some obstacles between you and him. Perhaps he will prefer the scent of his new lady friend.”
“And while I’m doing the running what will you be doing exactly?” Chase risked a squint over his shoulder to look at Joe.
Joe grinned. “You are dinner bait. Gators prefer white meat too, perhaps food will take him off the scent of love.”
Chase returned his gaze to the nearby landscape. He still couldn’t see anything. “Shit. Wouldn’t it be better to just get out of the way and let him get to his girlfriend?”
Joe, also was watching the terrain. “Indeed it would, but gators are not too bright and always vicious. They will eat anything that comes within range of their mouth and you, my friend, have just become the object of that bull’s fascination.”
The noise was now much closer. Joe stepped back away from Chase just as Chase saw a broad blunt snout and massive triangular head break through the underbrush on his left. The creature was black and huge and its hooded black eyes fastened on Chase were cold and reptilian despite the creature’s obvious agitation. It bellowed again, giving Chase a perfect view of those rows of big, vicious teeth and then it rushed him.
Chase ran. He was amazed at the speed of the creature. Cursing Joe for deserting him he tucked in his head, pumped his arms and tore off in the direction of the camp ducking behind shrubs and grass mounds all the way as far as the lay of the land would let him. He heard the creature behind him, pictured those teeth closing in on his legs and ran faster. He hoped to God Joe was right about lust being stronger than hunger because that monster had four legs to his two and he wasn’t in quite the shape he used to be when he did basic training all those years ago.
Chase was close to the water at the campsite now. No sign of Joe and Chase’s breath was coming short and choppy. The gator had no such problem. Chase ran directly into the water. There was a tree on the bank with a low overhanging branch. Hopefully it would hold. Gasping for air, Chase made it across, grabbed
for the branch and hauled himself up, swinging up and over the branch in one fluid motion. He heard a huge splash as the gator sank back into the water.
“Joe. You son of a bitch. Where are you?” Chase had breath enough for that.
“Here kimosabe.” Joe appeared directly beneath his tree, minus his pants and with his shirttail hanging free. “You just stay right there. Joe’ll take care of that ol’ gator for you.”
“I couldn’t frigging move if I wanted to.” Chase gasped for air in between sentences. “What the hell are you doing, taking a nap while I become dinner?” Chase was too outraged to do more than splutter.
“Not hardly.” Joe started wading into the water and Chase was alarmed to see a long black shape silently slink towards Joe, its long black tail threshing angrily.
“Look out. It’s behind you.” At that moment the gator dove and disappeared.
“You see,” Joe continued unperturbed, “this is a gator hole and that guy’s den is under the bank here. He’s gone back to sulk for a minute or two while he gets his brain in gear. Then he’ll come out again and we’ll nab him.”
“We’ll nab him. Are you crazy?” Chase had climbed down out of his tree. “You don’t even have a knife on you.”
“Not necessary.” Joe kept his focus on the bank beneath the gator hole. “Watch.”
Chase bent over, hands on his knees, still trying to catch his breath. Joe had walked closer to the bank and was standing with his legs straddled. From the bank, Chase could see down into the water and he saw the gator come out from under the bank directly between Joe’s legs. Joe bent down towards the gator and then all hell broke loose. The water roiled and cascaded as man and beast thrashed as one. They rolled over in the water in continuous furious motion. First Joe on top and then the gator. In quick glimpses Chase could see that Joe had the beast by the mouth and had his legs wrapped around the gator’s legs. The gator was spinning like a top in an effort to throw off this unwanted maniac. It made a herculean effort, but its captor stuck to him like glue.
Chase didn’t know what to do next. He ran around the bank following the battle, sure that Joe would drown or lose his grip. It seemed to go on forever when suddenly the water quieted. Joe was close to the bank, lying on his back, the gator belly up on top of him, unmoving. Joe squirmed his way up onto the beach, helped by Chase.
“Hand me a knife will you man?” Joe panted.
Chase wordlessly passed over his knife. He waited while Joe said some kind of prayer and then dispatched his prey with practiced ease.
Joe stood up and stretched out his aching muscles. He nodded towards the dead gator. “He’s a good size. I wouldn’t normally kill such an animal but given its mating season, we wouldn’t be able to get rid of him. He would get one of us.”
Chase was still looking at the gator’s teeth. “Not kill him? He’d hardly make a good pet.”
Joe shrugged. “Normally we would tie up his mouth and tie his legs over his back and relocate him. It is not our way to harm animals unnecessarily.” This method does make for a bit of a work out. It would have been a lot easier to hang a rope noose outside the gator hole. That way he will tie himself up with his spinning, but I haven't had a good gator hunt in a long time. How about gator tail for dinner?”
“You bet your ass.” Chase would be delighted to gnaw on this guy. “Are we likely to get interrupted like this again?”
Joe shrugged. “It’s possible, but unlikely. The gators will normally remain in the background. This one attacked only because he was feeling the fires of his hormones and you were in the way.”
Both men were sweating from their efforts. Chase went back for the cooler and broke out a six pack and they paused for a beer. While he drank Chase could almost visualize Sophie in this place, delightedly searching out her turtles, snapping pictures for her scrapbook. He reflected that the last time he had come home from overseas, while Sophie was still married, she had never set foot in a place like this and wouldn’t have dreamt of traveling anywhere that didn’t have a warm shower and a color television. Funny how people changed. Here, she had been happy. He was sure of it. Her presence was strong. Joe was sitting quietly watching him. Chase knew that Joe felt her here too. The two men sat reflecting in silent communication.
A shadow darkened the campsite momentarily and they both looked up to watch a small cloud that had crossed in front of the sun. Joe got up. “We’d better get started. If that is the beginning of an afternoon build up, we may not have too long to investigate before the rain hits.”
Joe in the lead, they followed a game trail through some patches of palmetto. There were a few trees dotted here and there but mostly the ground cover was low and dense. Eventually the trail led them to a large circular area, devoid of vegetation. The area seemed to consist of landlocked beach sand. Chase had no idea how far they were from the actual Keys or whether this was normal landscaping here, but it looked really strange, surrounded as it was by the wildness of the Everglades.
Joe pointed ahead. “The camp was over there, almost into the scrub. That’s why Sophie didn’t see it when she came out of this trail. Joe gestured at what Chase presumed was a game trail of some kind. He had just found out the hard way that alligators made trails. Perhaps this was one constructed by their now deceased dinner.
Joe continued, pointing out the areas as he talked. “She just saw all this trash here in the middle of nowhere and it got her dander up. She followed the trash trail and then came upon some weird looking equipment, just about here.” The two men had been walking while Joe talked.
Chase squatted down. “Well there doesn’t appear to be anything here now.”
“No.” Joe squatted on his heels and looked around him. “She was looking around here when she said two guys came out of the brush over there.” Chase looked over to where Joe was pointing. The area seemed to be dense with cabbage palms and saw palmetto.
Joe went on. “That’s when she noticed the camp. They looked like hunters but were carrying rifles and wearing handguns. They started interrogating her and she got frightened and backed away. They didn’t say anything more. Just stopped and opened fire. That’s when I arrived. I tripped her to the ground and fired back at them. They were disconcerted by some kind of radio communication for a moment and I grabbed Sophie and got her back in the brush. From there we were able to evade them and make our way back to camp.”
Joe got up, stretching his long legs. “I was worried they would come after us, so I stashed Sophie in the brush, once I got her calmed down, and went back for another look. I took my time to make sure they didn’t get around me and find Sophie and by the time I got there and had tracked around enough to know that they were gone, there was nothing left to see except what I showed you. I only made a hasty search because I wanted to get back to Sophie. Later, when I came back, I found nothing.” Shrugging, Joe looked over the area, “Obviously, because of the time lapse, we’re probably wasting our time, but you never know. Why don’t we start by circling around the edges? I’ll take this half and you take that one and we’ll meet over there where their original camp was.”
“Okay by me.” Chase was already on his feet and working his way out to the edge of the vegetation. An hour later they had covered the entire area, including the campsite and found nothing. Disappointed, Chase was heading towards the edge of the water to wait for Joe when he felt something crunch underfoot. Looking down, he noticed it was one of those weird sand things they had found earlier and then he noticed they were everywhere around him, but only in this small area where he stood. He judged they covered a distance of around twenty feet. Chase made a thorough inspection of the area, even digging in several areas but found nothing else.
Joe double-checked when he arrived and again came up empty handed. Joe was perplexed. He studied the area thoughtfully but at last shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense. I’ve never seen so many of these things in one place, and look,” Joe picked up two of the
fulgurites. “This one is a typical sand fulgurite but this other one is the same as the ones Sophie kept. It seems to be of a totally different consistency. I don’t know much about these things, but I think that’s impossible.”
Both men raised their heads at the same time sniffing the air like wolves. It smelt of distant places. A lively breeze gusted over them. It had sprung up out of nowhere. Like a playful poltergeist it ruffled their hair and rattled the bushes, blowing gusts of sand here and there. What startled both Joe and Chase was that this wind had the indefinable but unmistakable energy that always presaged the proximity of a hurricane. Anyone who had ever been close to a hurricane could tell you that the first breezes that reached you were dancing, playful things, almost with a life of their own, intent on mischief, presaging the powerful devastation yet to come. There really was nothing else like it and both men knew immediately what it was. They also knew that it could not be. No hurricane was anywhere on the radar of the weather stations.
Where a moment ago the sky had been almost clear, now there were dark storm clouds building all around them. Joe and Chase packed some fulgurites into their pockets.
“Let’s go.” Joe set out at a fast pace. “We don’t want to be stuck here in bad weather. I don’t know what this is but I don’t like the smell of it at all. It brings out the Indian in me.”
Chase was not about to argue. The weather had spooked him too. They made it back to camp in short order and had the canoe packed in next to no time. Both men working with easy efficiency. The wind had gotten stronger, the sky darker. The water started to whip up and the trees bent under the gusts. Joe headed the canoe out of the shelter of their little inlet into a wider channel and here they had no shelter and the rain began.
Yokche:The Nature of Murder Page 8