My Dad’s a Paranormal Investigator:
Seeking Shapeshifters
by
Rebekah L. Purdy
Published by Astraea Press, LLC
www.AstraeaPress.com
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters, and events are fictitious in every regard. Any similarities to actual events and persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. Any trademarks, service marks, product names, or named features are assumed to be the property of their respective owners, and are used only for reference. There is no implied endorsement if any of these terms are used. Except for review purposes, the reproduction of this book in whole or part, electronically or mechanically, constitutes a copyright violation.
MY DAD’S A PARANORMAL INVESTIGATOR:
SEEKING SHAPESHIFTERS
Copyright © 2011 REBEKAH L.PURDY
ISBN 978-1-936852-00-0
Cover Art Designed By Elaina Lee
Edited By Stephanie Taylor
To my husband Tim and my sister Rachel for their constant encouragement to follow my crazy dream. To my FABULOUS critique group YA Fiction Fanatics, for all your input, comments and encouragement. You ladies rock! To my kids: Devin, Alyssa, Kris, Barrett, Erin, and Chase for listening to my story ideas and letting me write. And lastly, I thank GOD for giving me this crazy gift and allowing me to share it with everyone.
Chapter One
Summer
“Shh…do you hear that?” Dad said.
I could barely make out his form as I stumbled to a stop. We were in the Modoc National Forest surrounded by thick trees that blocked out most of the light. Even at midday, it was gloomy and creepy. I took a step closer to our cameraman, Matt, and the scent of bug spray assaulted my nose.
The last thing I wanted to do was get lost in the middle of a Bigfoot hunt.
Matt angled his camera toward my dad then panned over to me. All I saw was his dark shaggy hair over the camera, but I knew he was probably grinning like an excited idiot, too. I mean, this was the closest we’d been to seeing something significant all week.
The faint sound of wood banging on wood filtered through the silence, and I reached down to grab the thermal-imaging camera off my belt. As quiet as possible, I swept the area for evidence of the big, hairy sort.
“Dad,” I whispered, hurrying over to the shrubs. I bent down and examined a huge print in the dirt, easily the length of my arm, from wrist to armpit.
“It’s a print,” I said, trying to keep my voice low but failing miserably. This was it!
My dad barked out orders to his colleagues while cameramen filmed the clearing. See, my dad is Lou Berry, the host of the show Berry S.I. (supernatural investigator). Tonight was the team’s last night in the Modoc National Forest, not to mention the season’s final episode.
He’s a paranormal investigator/crypto-zoologist. Yeah, I know. No one takes him seriously because of his belief in the unexplainable. He’s the laughing stock of the scientific community, and it doesn’t help that every one of his investigations gets botched in some way.
I swear he has the worst luck. How else could I explain the things that happened on set? Last season, we were so close to proving the existence of the Dogman, but the camera film and video footage ended up blurred and at one point disappeared all together. Then there were the DNA samples that got lost in the mail—on seven different occasions! And the cement casts we took? They ended up broken. It was like the forces of nature were against Dad proving his theories.
“Ima,” my dad called out. “Prepare the casting so we can get the print.”
Ima. That would be me. It’s pronounced ‘I’m A’. And yes, my last name really is Berry. It gets better; my middle name is Blue. So I officially have the most embarrassing name in the world. Ima Blue Berry.
But it could be worse. My middle name could’ve been Dingle instead. Thank goodness for small favors, eh?
I pulled out a pair of rubber gloves and dumped quick-set cement powder and water into a plastic bag, mixing them together.
“The casting’s ready.” I poured the concoction into the large footprint.
“Make sure there isn’t any debris to interfere with the cast,” Dad said over my shoulder.
I rolled my eyes. “I’ve been doing this since I was like two.”
I grew up on set with him, traveling to exotic locations for investigations. At sixteen, I’d already visited about half the countries around the world. It sounded glamorous, but I moved around a lot, which didn’t give me a chance to make many friends. My school transcripts spent more time at any school than I did. Most girls my age worried about dances, boys, and clothes. Not me. I worried about tripping down mountains or being killed by mythical creatures.
The only guys around me were old enough to be my dad or even grandpa. Pretty much the entire crew of Berry S.I. was old. Well, other than Matt and Brady.
Needless to say, the idea of dating seemed impossible. And as far as dances went, there wasn’t anyone around to take me to them. Well, there was that, and the small fact I never stayed at a school long enough for anyone to even ask.
Dad joined his fellow investigators to discuss the next move while I waited for the casting to dry.
“Smile,” Matt said. He focused his digital camera on me then zoomed in to get a look at the print at my feet.
“Only if you smack the mosquito on the back of my neck,” I said with a grin.
Slap! I watched Matt wipe his hand on his shorts, his bicep flexing beneath the tight t-shirt. “Now give me a big smile. Show America how much you love being in the woods.”
I snorted. “So, it’s our last night here. Do you think we’ll find Bigfoot?”
“To be honest, I’ve got a strange feeling about tonight,” he said. His glance slid to the footprint then back to the woods.
I felt it, too. The closer to dusk it got, the more unnerved I became. The back of my neck tingled; you know, the feeling you get when someone is watching you. My gaze flickered around the shadows but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Well, if there was anything ordinary about hunting Bigfoot, I guess.
“Yeah, I know what you mean. This place is starting to creep me out.”
Matt noticed my discomfort and changed the subject. “Has your dad mentioned where you’re going next?”
The light on his camera made his glacial eyes ignite like fire, and I fanned my face in an effort to hide the heat that raced to my cheeks. Did I mention Matt’s way hot? He graduated from college this year, but he’s helped out with investigations on Berry S.I. since his junior year of high school.
He was fun to hang out with, and one of only three friends I have. Dad’s made it clear he thinks Matt’s too old for me. In other words, if he ever tried to pursue me (yeah like that’d happen), I’d likely find him at the bottom of a Bigfoot print, covered in cement cast—courtesy of Dad.
I shook my head in an effort to remember Matt’s question. “Nope, not a word, yet.”
“I bet it’s someplace cool,” Matt said. He avoided my gaze, which meant he knew something.
“Okay, out with it,” I said.
“Not a chance.” His lips twitched. “I want to keep my job. Besides, I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”
“Show some loyalty here,” I said, pushing a strand of blonde hair out of my eyes. A ponytail can only hold up to so much trekking through the wilderness.
“I’m always loyal to you.” Matt winked before walking over to join my father and the others.
I pretended to study the print in front of me as my insides did a happy dance. He had no idea what his offhanded comments did to me. I was so lost in dreamy guy land, I almost screamed when something furry rubbed against my leg.
/> “Keetah, what are you doing out here? You’re supposed to be back at camp.” I petted my German Shepherd’s head and then scratched behind his ears. This was friend number two—yeah, I know he’s a dog, but what can I say? He’s always there when I need him.
“The print’s set now,” I called.
Dad hurried over, and I moved out of his way as he picked it up and brushed it off.
“Look at the ridges.” He examined it with his flashlight. Dad went on and on to his colleagues about how “lovely” it turned out. He measured it at eighteen inches, which got a whistle from the crew.
“Did I miss anything?” a deep voice said behind me.
I chuckled as Brady O’Doyle moved out of the trees to join me. He so should’ve been carrying a surfboard to go along with his don’t-have-a-care-in-the-world smile.
“We found what we think is a Bigfoot print. Our dads are cooing over it now,” I said.
Brady and I grew up together. Our dads are best friends as well as paranormal investigative partners. Up until two years ago, we’d spent every waking moment together, but Brady’s parents decided they wanted him to enjoy his high school years, so they settled in Ireland. Now the O’Doyles only helped with the investigations over the summer and during Brady’s school breaks. I missed him. He understood what it was like to move around and not have a life outside of investigations. He knew everything about me. From my favorite foods to my celebrity crushes. He got me in a way no one else did. Besides, he was the only other person on the crew under the age of twenty who knew that an iPod was an electronic device and not some type of new plant.
Dad carried our evidence to an insulated box.
“Okay everyone,” he said and clapped his hands. “We need to cover as much area as possible tonight. I want to break into three teams.”
“Please don’t let us end up with Jefferson,” I whispered to Brady.
He snickered, and we both stared at our dads’ colleague. Jefferson reminded me of a weasel, only taller, with a bald spot that’d make Mr. Clean jealous. Out of everyone on the crew of Berry S.I., he was my least favorite. He was such a jerk and acted like he was better than everyone else. Not to mention he hated Brady and me. Whenever something went wrong on set, he blamed us for it. Yet, over the years, we captured more evidence than he had—which was why he cursed us under his breath nearly every episode.
I was sure the network kept him on the show for the sole purpose of drama. With him around, we could count on at least one fight per episode.
“If he’s on our team, we can offer him up to Bigfoot as bait,” Brady said.
“He’d never take him.” I stifled a laugh with my arm.
“Okay, Ima, I want you and Brady to head west with Matt as your cameraman. Jefferson, you can go with Dave, Ken, Thomas, and me, and the rest will take the cast and head back to base camp to monitor the cameras and sound equipment. We’ll switch up after a couple of hours in order to give everyone a chance in the woods,” Dad said.
“We so dodged that bullet,” I said, pretending to wipe my forehead in relief.
“Looks like the bribe I gave your dad paid off,” Brady teased.
“Oh, one more thing before we head out,” my dad said. “Jefferson placed some pheromones near our wildlife cameras. We hope this will draw Bigfoot out so we can film him.”
“Great—Bigfoot porn, just what I wanted to see on this trip,” Brady said with a laugh.
I giggled. “How much do you want to bet the pheromones are Jefferson’s?”
“If his tent starts a rockin’ don’t come a knockin.” Brady snickered and Dad narrowed his eyes in warning.
“You’re sick, you know that?” I said as we ducked out of sight.
“You both are.” Matt sauntered over with his camera propped up on his shoulder. He glanced back and forth between Brady and me then took out his walkie-talkie. “Make sure your walkies are set to the right channel.”
Brady configured his then did the same to mine. We broke off from the main group and trudged into the ebony backdrop of the woods. The trees loomed high above us, the dim light of the moon created eerie shadows around every bend. Most of the wildlife quieted, except for the occasional crickets or owl and Keetah’s happy panting.
“I bet Jefferson’s ticked,” Matt said, tromping through the overgrowth behind us. “You should’ve seen his face when he realized you found the first evidence. If he had it his way he probably would’ve cemented you into the footprint.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time he got outdone by a sixteen year old girl,” Brady said. “Ain’t that right, Berry?” He tugged on my loose ponytail, and I swatted his hand away.
“Yeah, well don’t say it too loud or he’ll throw a fit,” I said.
Leaves and twigs crunched beneath my shoes, which bothered me more than usual. I glanced over my shoulder more than once, unable to shake the sensation of being watched.
Keetah sniffed the air then peered back with a growl. His glowing eyes focused on something in the distance.
“What is it, boy?” My paranoia made me shiver. Every shadow started to look like a hungry beast out to get us. Keetah bristled then started to bark.
“Hang on,” Matt said in a hushed voice. We halted and stood quiet. “It sounds like something’s behind us.”
My teeth grazed my bottom lip, my adrenaline kicking up like a racecar engine.
“It’s coming from the brush.” Brady pointed his light to our left and I turned the thermal imaging camera toward the foliage.
A huge, red form appeared on the screen. “There’s something here—it’s moving,” I said.
Brady and I leapt forward with Matt close behind. We fought to keep our footing as we wove in and out of branches, ferns, and thicket. The flashlights did little to light our path as we pushed through the brush, Keetah in the lead.
Who in their right mind actually chased after the monster? Blood pounded in my ears as fear set in. I mean, what would I do if Bigfoot suddenly stepped in front of me? Ask him if he could pose for a picture? Run? Wet myself? Or D, all of the above? I pushed the panicked thoughts from my mind and scrambled after the others.
Brady got on his walkie-talkie. “Hey Lou, we’ve got something moving around out here, we’re in pursuit now.”
“Come again with your position,” Dad answered.
Matt gave him our coordinates and fell in alongside me. I heard his deep intake of breath. “I think I got whatever it was on camera—it’s huge!”
The rustling continued to move away from us until we stood on the edge of a creek. I eyed the water, but Matt didn’t think it’d be a good idea to chance crossing it in the dark.
“It got away.” I groaned and rubbed the scratches on my arms and neck, smudging dots of blood across my skin.
“Well, let’s see if I can roll this back,” Matt said. He rewound the footage and whistled. “Look, right there.”
Brady and I leaned over the screen, squinting against the bright blue light. There! A huge, hairy thing burst out of the brush and raced through the trees. It was easily over seven feet tall. Dad was going to flip out.
“Let’s check around for prints,” I said.
Matt and I retraced our path and found tracks like the one we’d cast earlier. Brady used his digital camera to get pictures of the trampled plants and then used a tape measurer to get the dimensions of the new cast.
“Ima!” Dad’s voice broke through the darkness.
“Right here,” I called, waving my flashlight in the air.
“What do we have?” he asked, running over to Matt and me.
He examined the same blue screen, the light reflected off his glasses.
“This is it—Look Ken!” Dad hurried toward Brady’s dad as the rest of the team bounded into the clearing. “It’s a bipedal primate of some kind.”
“It gets better,” Brady said. I noticed his rubber gloves, and saw the bits of hair he held in his hands. “Our friend left a present.”
Dad
hooted and danced around. “I love you two,” he said. He bear hugged me and Brady until I thought my rib cage might puncture my lungs.
“Okay, my bones can’t take much more.” I stumbled from his grasp. Dad had a habit of getting overly excited or so said my ribcage.
“Finally, after all these years we’ve got some evidence. The scientific community will eat their words,” Dad announced.
The excitement level rose as we tramped back to base camp. We boxed up our findings and put them into the truck—except Matt’s footage, which he wanted to get cleaned up tonight so we could take a better look at it.
Everyone still buzzed over our luck when Brady and I grabbed a package of hotdogs and a couple of pops. We sat next to the campfire and slid hotdogs onto sticks, propping them over the flames. I watched the teams jotting down times and events as they reviewed their cameras and voice recorders.
“So it’s our last night together for a while.” Brady bumped my shoulder with his. “You know you should convince your dad to come back to Ireland with us.”
“Why? You miss me that much?”
“Maybe,” he said. His skin was warm against mine as he reached for my hand. Tingles fluttered up my arm and down my spine when his thumb brushed across my knuckles.
I focused on his tanned face when our dads’ loud guffaws interrupted the moment.
Brady dropped my hand like a hot coal when Mr. O’Doyle sat down across from us.
I tried to convince myself it was for the best. I mean, Brady’s hot, but he had a reputation as a bad boy. Not to mention what it might do to our friendship.
“This was some night, eh?” Ken O’Doyle said.
“Yes, it was.” Dad patted him on the back, then pulled out his harmonica and started playing a blues tune. More people joined us. After a few minutes, the cast and crew of Berry S.I. clapped along and belted out off key songs.
“Mind if I sit?” Matt said. He didn’t wait for me to answer but instead plopped down beside me. I scooted closer to Brady so we’d fit on the log. Whoa, who wouldn’t want to be me right this second—stuck in the middle of a hot guy sandwich. My knee brushed against Brady’s and my ability to concentrate flew right out of camp. I swallowed hard and tried to focus on what Brady and Matt were saying. Brady mentioned something about Christmas vacation and then Matt said something about food, but I barely heard them over the thumping of my heart.
Seeking Shapeshifters Page 1