“So, what do we do now?” Rob asked.
Despite his earlier reservations, Mitchell found himself smiling. Though the kid was enthusiastic to the point of almost being obnoxious, he had kept out of the way and asked mostly intelligent questions. “Now we wait a bit. Let the computer do the heavy lifting. If the first pass doesn’t give us anything to work with, then we start again. Rinse and repeat.”
“What if you don’t find anything?”
“If the pathogen and tox screens all come back negative, then I wrap it up. At that point, I send the samples to the guys in the lab and let them do their thing.”
“But what about...”
Mitchell lifted a hand. “Don’t worry. If there’re no matches with anything on file, then that probably means we’re dealing with a unique case. That’s a good thing. It means the problem most likely died with our hairy friend.”
Rob seemed to consider this for a moment. He had read that the CDC had data on every disease known to man, including many that the general public wasn’t aware of. If Mitchell was confident in those results, then he could be, too. He nodded, then decided to try his luck a bit. “So, while we’re waiting...”
“Yes?”
“What does the rest of this stuff do?” His eyes swept over one of the many control panels in the small space. “I know a thing or two about computers. Maybe it’s just me, but some of this equipment doesn’t seem like it’d really be at home in a lab.”
“You have sharp eyes. This here van is a Frankenstein’s monster, if ever there was one. Before we got it, the bureau had this baby all decked out for undercover surveillance. We added all the medical stuff, but Derek had us keep some of the older equipment just in case it came in handy.”
“Like what?”
“Well, for starters, did you notice how low the ceiling in here is?”
Rob raised his eyebrows. “Now that you mention it...”
“Exactly. It’s a false roof. There’s about a foot of space above us, literally packed with cameras and sensors.”
“Cool! Like what?”
“Well, okay. Since we have time.” Mitchell spun in his chair and began hitting buttons. Monitors came to life, and static began to hiss from hidden speakers. He indicated one of the monitors. “Check it out. Thermal night scope.” He then grabbed a control stick and panned the video. “Full three-hundred and sixty degrees of freedom.”
“Awesome!”
“That’s not even the best part. There’s a full acoustic array – pretty advanced stuff. We could hear a bear shit in the woods from a mile away if we wanted to. What’s really wild, though, is that these systems can piggyback off each other. It’s really not much use out in the forest, but if we were to point this thing at a building, we’d be able to hear the conversations going on and even see movement through the walls.”
“Seriously?”
“Yep, and this isn’t even top of the line anymore. Makes you wonder what toys the real spooks have at their disposal.”
“Show me.”
Mitchell appeared to consider this for a moment, then he smiled and said, “Well, these things aren’t toys, but what the hell?” He started punching buttons and turning dials. “Derek mentioned something about going to that bar down the block. Let’s see what he’s up to.”
The hiss of static coming through the speakers gradually gave way to garbled voices. He turned a few more knobs, and they became intelligible. They listened in for a few seconds before Mitchell said, “Sounds like Derek and Frank are chatting with your buddy.”
“Heh! They’re wasting their time. Harrison doesn’t even like your show. Let’s see what else is going on in this town.”
“Sure thing. What’d you have in mind?”
“Everyone else is at the B&B,” Rob said with a big grin. “I know. Let’s check out Paula’s room, see if she’s talking smack about me.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Paula let out a gasp as Wild Feather slid his full length into her. Pleasure, pain, and desire simultaneously flooded her senses. Mingled in with it all was a slight sense of disbelief. She couldn’t believe she was letting this ... this ... savage use her like this. So this is what it’s like to be taken, to be tamed, like an animal. She arched her back and bit into his shoulder. He grunted in return and began to thrust even more furiously into her.
She gasped again and began to move her hips to match his. A smile crossed her lips as another thought struck her. How disappointed would her parents be if they knew what she was doing right now? Her father would probably disown her, especially if he knew she had spread her legs – eagerly, too – for a minority. Her mother would probably call her a filthy whore.
A giggle escaped from her lips at the thought. Wouldn’t that be ironic, especially considering that’s exactly what her mother often begged to be treated like? Their house was old, and the ductwork carried sound quite well. Late at night, when her parents assumed she and her brothers were asleep, her mother’s breathless cries would carry up to Paula’s room, often followed by the crack of her father’s belt.
I can see the appeal, Mom, she thought, before turning her full attention back to Wild Feather, his naked body continuing to slide against hers. “Harder!” she moaned. “Fuck me harder, mighty warrior!”
♦ ♦ ♦
Phil couldn’t believe how well things had worked out. His roommate still hadn’t gotten back by the time he left for Paula’s room. He was probably playing things up for Danni. To his surprise, he found himself actually rooting for Greg. Hopefully, the fucking pothead knocked her up or gave her the clap. Maybe both. Assholes! Either way, it was probably for the best that he was gone. Less questions that way, not that it was any of their fucking business what he was up to.
He decided to make his move while Paula’s dweeb boyfriend was still nerding it up with his heroes. He had thought to take her on a moonlit walk so he could start putting the moves on her with more of his “Great Spirit” bullshit. She had shown herself to be receptive. Better yet, she seemed determined to believe in his Indian charade. It was pretty hilarious, considering his mother was Columbian while his father was a salesman of Dominican descent. He was about as Native American as Paula was. Still, it wouldn’t hurt to play that up. He spent a little extra time in the mirror putting a feather back into his hair and donning his fake deerskin jacket.
What he hadn’t expected, though, was the condition he had found her in. He had no more than said “Hi” before she had dragged him into the room and locked the door behind them. She pushed him onto the bed, and it was only then that he realized her pants were already halfway off. Had she really been waiting for him? It seemed so, and he was more than happy to oblige her. Within minutes, their clothes were strewn on the floor.
Considering the hunger with which she attacked him, he never had even a moment’s consideration that she might still be a virgin. Had he suspected, he would have enjoyed it even more – although, he was greatly enjoying it as it were. It was as if he were figuratively fucking her boyfriend and that asshole, Harrison, by literally fucking her.
The only downside was her loud animalistic grunting amidst continual cries for him to take her like a savage. That part was weirding him out a little.
♦ ♦ ♦
Inside the van, there was stunned silence for many moments. Finally, Mitchell reached over and muted the audio.
“I don’t suppose there’s any chance we accidentally tuned into Cinemax, is there?” Rob asked numbly.
“I’m so sorry, kid.”
Rob was a cluster of confused emotions. There was definitely anger and hurt, a lot of that. There was also a sickening sense of resignation. Hadn’t he suspected for a while now that he and Paula weren’t right for each other? Surely, several of his friends had dropped hints of such. Even Harrison had suggested he play the field a bit. Perhaps ... although he realized that these thoughts might just be hindsight.
However, hindsight or not, mixed in with the jumble of other emotions w
as also an odd sense of relief. For a few minutes, he couldn’t believe it, but yes, there was definitely a feeling of satisfaction in knowing. He would never have suspected Paula of such deceit on his own. He had bought her good little Catholic girl routine completely. There had never been any reason not to. She had always seemed genuine in her beliefs. Her family was devout, but not oppressively so, which might have dropped hints at a rebellious nature of sorts.
Most convincing of all was that the college rumor mill was entirely silent on the subject of Paula. No matter how innocent one acted or how hard one tried to keep a lid on things, gossip spread in a closed ecosystem like their campus. It wasn’t always correct, but if someone was screwing around with someone else, there was usually a third party who knew about it and was happy to spread the word.
No, he wouldn’t have suspected Paula, and thus, barring some tearful confession from her after the fact, she would have gotten away with it. She hadn’t exactly sounded like she’d been forced into it, thus he didn’t think such a confession would have been forthcoming. Even if it was, he found himself doubtful it would be all that sincere. He had to face facts: the bitch was cheating on him, and she was enjoying it.
He turned back toward Mitchell and grinned, but this time there was a predatory quality to it.
“So, tell me, does this thing have a ‘Record’ button?”
♦ ♦ ♦
Kate Barrows wasn’t much of a drinker. She enjoyed the occasional glass of wine with dinner and was known to drink a beer while she watched the Broncos with her dad, but that was it. However, after closing up shop that night, she decided maybe a shot of something stronger wouldn’t be a bad idea. She was rattled from the earlier scare with her father, and she was most definitely still upset that Gus seemed to be missing. Adding to it all, she was also tired out from all the walking.
Earlier in the day, after talking with Grace Clemons and finding her curiosity piqued, she had decided to lock up the store and accompany her back to her home. Grace, for her part, hadn’t objected to the company. After discovering the damage, her husband, Byron, had set out with their truck for the Home Depot all the way over in Durango. Considering the distance and that he tended to get a little distracted in that store, he wasn’t expected back until sometime that night.
Grace had spent some time showing Kate what had happened. She had been right, it was weird. The coop had been torn wide open from top to bottom. Even stranger was the condition of some of the bodies. Grace had been too focused on the damage to pay the chickens much more attention other than to note they were all dead. Kate immediately saw that while a few were partially eaten, most were torn completely to shreds. Whatever had gotten into them had been in one hell of a mood. This wasn’t a feeding – more like a mass poultry murder.
She found herself as stumped as Grace. She wasn’t even sure it was an animal that had done this. Unpleasant thoughts had begun to form in her head. She began to wonder if her father hadn’t been right about Joel Bean. Maybe he had downed one too many shots of cheap liquor and gone nuts.
She had assured Grace that she would send Mark Watson out her way immediately if she saw him. Grace had thanked her, then politely escorted her back to the edge of her property. Kate’s mind was so preoccupied by then, wondering what was going on, that she didn’t find it odd to be shooed off without even an offer to come inside for coffee.
Before leaving, though, she had stopped and turned to the other woman. There had been a nagging feeling in the back of her head. Something was wrong, and it was bothering her. “Grace, are you sure you don’t wanna come back to the store with me, at least until Byron gets home?”
“That’s sweet of you, Kate. But my place is here,” had been the unsurprising reply.
“Well then, please be careful. Whatever did that could come back.”
“Don’t you worry about me, sweetie. I’m gonna go and lock myself inside with my good friends, Smith & Wesson.”
As Kate started walking again, she had found herself oddly lamenting her own lack of a friend by her side.
Those memories were all still flitting through her mind when she walked into the town’s lone pub. “Bar and Grill” was probably a bit of a stretch, she thought. Ben Reeves, the owner, had a good-sized barbecue pit out back, but this time of the year she’d probably be lucky to get a microwaved plate of hot wings.
It was still too early for the locals to fill the place, and even then, a good chunk of them might be down south helping the search party. Regardless, she wasn’t surprised to see a few people sitting around. It was who she saw, though, that caught her off guard. She saw the college kid, the cute one from the day before. Hadn’t he been heading out into the woods for a week of camping with his friends? Apparently not, as he was sitting there with two of those reporters who had rolled into town the other day.
They appeared to be having a fairly animated conversation, but it immediately quieted down as they noticed her. One of the men had a bit of an unkempt lumberjack look to him. The other, the one who had seen her, was another prospect to her liking. Well-built, with dark sandy hair, a chiseled jaw line, mid-thirties – maybe early forties. That same voice in her head that she constantly seemed to be shushing said, Two cuties in as many days. This town is turning into a regular man-candy outlet.
The college kid, “Harry-something” she vaguely remembered, turned his head toward her and smiled. Stepping up to the bar, she inwardly sighed. She could remember that he had a cute ass, but his name, nope, no dice on that one. Definitely turning into an old cougar, the voice whispered.
“Hey!” the college kid called to her. “Kate, wasn’t it?”
“Hey, yourself,” she replied back. She sensed the bartender at her elbow and addressed him, “Tequila shooter, if you will, Ben.” That ought to steady the nerves a bit. Turning back toward the group, she said, “I thought you were off camping with your buddies.”
For a moment, it seemed as if the other men at the table shot him a warning glance, but then again, she could have just been paranoid. Considering the day she’d had, that seemed the more likely scenario, so she dismissed the thought as he began to speak.
“Yeah ... well, that got cut short. We had a little bit of an accident,” Harrison – that was his name – replied.
“Oh. Was anyone hurt?”
“Not too badly,” he told her. “Bumps, bruises, and scratches mostly.”
“What happened?” she asked. She retrieved the tumbler of Cuervo Gold from Ben, then took a step in the trio’s direction.
“Bear,” Chiseled Jaw said.
“Cougar,” replied the lumberjack simultaneously.
There was a momentary silence, during which she distinctly saw Harrison roll his eyes, then Chiseled Jaw quickly added, “It was hard to tell. It happened fast, and it was a bit chaotic.” He didn’t sound all too convincing.
“And you are?” she asked.
“Oh, sorry,” he said, getting to his feet and holding out a hand. “Derek, Derek Jenner.”
She shook his hand then asked, “You guys are those reporters, right?”
Derek glanced at the lumberjack and replied, “Something like that.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Chuck should have been back at the bed and breakfast, specifically partaking of the bed part. Those were the doctor’s orders, and he was sure it would have been Mitch’s, too. Too bad neither of them was around to say it to his face.
He knew where Mitchell was holed up. He was also fairly sure Derek would be at the local watering hole, probably with Frank, celebrating another job well done. It was a tradition with them. The more difficult the job, the longer the celebration would go on. Considering the FUBAR this one had almost been, he didn’t expect to see them around for a while. Nor did he consider joining them, as he’d probably just be shooed back to bed like some goddamn baby.
Bigfoot Hunters (Tales of the Crypto-Hunter Book 1) Page 19