Crota

by Goingback, Owl

  “Yeah, Skip, it’s me,” Lloyd answered.

  “What the hell’s going on down there? We’ve been trying to reach you for hours, but couldn’t get through--”

  “They’re dead.”

  Skip hesitated. “Say again?”

  “They’re dead, Skip. All of them: Mitchell, Brown, Murphy, Ferguson and Professor Steven Fuller, Washington University, Missouri. All dead.”

  When Skip spoke again it was in a soft voice, like that of a mother to her child. “Stay where you are, Lloyd. We’re coming down to get you.”

  “Negative,” Lloyd responded. “You do not, repeat, do not come down here. You were right, Skip. You were right all along. It isn’t a bear, and it’s not some drugged-out, devil-worshiping cult. It’s a monster.”

  “We’re coming in.”

  “No!” Lloyd screamed. “Don’t you understand? The others are dead. I killed them. They were my responsibility and I got them killed. I knew before I ever came down here that it wasn’t a bear.”

  “Lloyd, you’re not making any sense.”

  “Yes I am, only you don’t know it. I tried to play the big man, tried to be the hero. I wanted all the cookies...wanted your job. Damn it, Skip, I was warned in advance. Everything he said was true.”

  “Who, Lloyd? Everything who said?”

  “Jay Little Hawk. He’s the one who told me about the cave, the monster. Everything. He warned me that it couldn’t be killed. Go talk to him, Skip. Go talk to Little Hawk. Maybe he’ll know what to do.”

  “We’ll go see him together--”

  “No, Skip, you’ll have to do it alone. I’m not coming out. I’m going back.”

  “Lloyd, you get your ass back to the surface. Now! Do you understand?”

  “Sorry, Skip. I left several damn good men behind. I’m not coming out without them.”

  “That’s an order, mister!”

  “Won’t work, Skip. I’ve got a score to settle. Besides, I’m tired of running. I guess maybe it’s about time I stood up for my actions.”

  Skip changed his tactics. “Lloyd, please come out.”

  Lloyd unpinned his star from his shirt, holding it in the palm of his hand. Tears streamed down his face. “Skip, promise me two things.”

  “What?”

  “That you’ll be the one to tell my wife what happened, and that under no circumstances will you let anyone come down here until after you go see Little Hawk.”

  There was no reply.

  “Skip?”

  “I’m here, Lloyd.”

  “Promise?”

  “Please come out, Lloyd. Come out and we’ll dynamite the cave’s entrance...seal the thing up forever.”

  “I can’t come out, Skip. Those men trusted me. They were my responsibility and I fucked up. You can understand that, can’t you?”

  Silence.

  “Can’t you, Skip?”

  “Yes, Lloyd, I can.” Skip hesitated. “Okay...I promise.”

  “Thank you.”

  Lloyd switched off the phone and set it down on the ground by his feet. He then gently laid his star on top of it. There wouldn’t be any need for a star where he was going.

  Straightening up, he took a deep breath, wiped a tear from his eye and jacked another round into the chamber of his shotgun. He had a score to settle. This one was for the boys.

  PART IV

  Chapter 24

  THURSDAY NIGHT.

  Deputy Hays kept his eyes downcast while he talked. Several times he had to stop, catch his breath and start again. When he was finally finished, he broke down and cried. Except for the deputy’s sobs, silence gripped the tiny office like a black glove.

  Driving back from the Devil’s Boot, Skip had called ahead to arrange for the mayor, the police chief and Fred Granger to be waiting for him in his office when he arrived. He studied the faces of those three men, trying to read their expressions. It was Mayor Johnson who spoke first.

  “This is a joke, right?” He uncrossed his legs and pulled nervously at his necktie. “That’s it...some kind of joke.”

  “It’s no joke,” Skip answered. He’d already given his report, including a description of the creature that attacked him. “I think the coroner’s report on the three bodies will back up what’s been said.”

  Everyone turned to Fred Granger, waiting to see what he had to say. Fred leaned back in his chair and looked at the ceiling, thoughtfully scratching at the back of his head. “That would explain the marks on the Jerworski kid and Hoffman.” He looked at Skip. “Damn, no wonder I couldn’t match them up with anything. All this time I thought I was losing my touch.”

  “What about the Owens’s cattle?” Skip prodded, anxious to have Fred help establish a convincing argument.

  Fred removed his glasses, wiped them with his shirttail, and put them back on. “There’s no doubt in my mind that those cows were attacked by some kind of predator. In addition to teeth marks, several of the carcasses were missing internal organs. One was even minus a hindquarter. But while the bodies of Owens, Jerworski and Hoffman were also mutilated, there were no indications that anything had tried to eat them. In other words, they were ripped apart and left untouched. If we are dealing with some unknown creature, then the damn thing doesn’t eat people, it only kills them.”

  Skip removed a fifth of Jim Beam and a stack of Dixie cups from his lower desk drawer. He set the bottle and cups down on his desk. Police Chief Alex Newberry and Mayor Johnson made a grab for the bottle at the same time. The police chief got to it first.

  “No offense, Sheriff, but I’m finding this hard to believe.” Chief Newberry opened the whiskey bottle, filled his cup halfway, spilling some on the carpet, and handed the bottle to Mayor Johnson.

  Skip’s jaws tightened. He had never been overly fond of Newberry, who was your typical thickheaded, hick cop. During the past week, he’d tried his best to get in on the investigation, but Skip and Lloyd had refused to tell him anything, deliberately keeping him in the dark, pulling rank to borrow his men for needed roadblocks. But now, like it or not, Skip had no choice but to work with the man.

  “Damn it, Newberry, over half my department’s been wiped out.”

  Mayor Johnson cleared his throat. “Skip, if what you’re saying is true, then why didn’t you tell anyone what you saw?”

  “What was I going to say, that I saw a monster? You wouldn’t have believed me, and you know it. Even Lloyd didn’t believe me.”

  “He does now,” Newberry said, looking down at the floor.

  Mayor Johnson poured a double shot of whiskey into his coffee. “So what do we do?”

  “We send for the National Guard,” Chief Newberry answered.

  “No,” Skip disagreed. “That’s the last thing we want to do. You go calling in the National Guard and you’re going to have thousands of people pouring in here to watch the action. Besides, you send anyone down in that cave and they’re going to end up dead. We’ve lost enough men as it is.”

  There was a brief pause as they thought of the men who had so recently lost their lives.

  “Have you notified their families yet?” Fred asked.

  Skip shook his head. “Not yet. I thought this meeting was too important to put off. And truthfully, I wasn’t sure what to say to them.”

  “Are you going to tell them the truth?” Newberry asked.

  Skip frowned. “What, that their daddies and husbands got torn apart by a monster?”

  “No, I guess that wouldn’t go over too good,” he agreed. “Are you sure they’re all dead?”

  “I’m sure.”

  “Jesus.” Newberry tipped his head back and belted down his whiskey in one gulp. It wasn’t the booze that made his eyes water.

  Skip looked to Mayor Johnson. “Mayor, it’s your decision. You can call in outside help if you want. But the governor is not going to be happy about it, especially when you tell him it’s for a monster hunt. Along with the bad publicity, there’s a good chance more people will be killed.�
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  “What about using dynamite to seal the cave?” Chief Newberry suggested.

  Skip nodded. “That’s another option. But there’s no guarantee our monster won’t find another place to tunnel out.”

  Fred Granger cleared his throat. “Skip, you can’t seal the cave without bringing those bodies out; the families would be up in arms about it.”

  “What if we said there was a cave-in?” asked Newberry.

  Fred shook his head. “No good. With a cave-in you wouldn’t know if the men were alive or dead until you dug them out. Hell, you’d have thousands of volunteers showing up to help with the digging.”

  “And hundreds of reporters on the scene,” Mayor Johnson added. Skip figured the mayor didn’t like the idea of sealing the cave because the ancient city the team had apparently discovered was just the thing to put Logan on the map.

  Deputy Hays raised his head and looked around the room. “I have an idea.”

  Skip paused and looked at the young man.

  “You could say they hit a gas pocket. That happens...I’ve seen it on the news before. Coal miners sometimes hit gas pockets and blow themselves up. Maybe you can say the same thing happened this time and you can’t go down because there might be more gas.”

  Skip looked to Chief Newberry, then to Fred Granger. Fred nodded.

  “He’s got something there, Skip,” Fred said. “A gas explosion would be a good reason for not bringing the bodies out. It would also be a good reason to keep everybody away from the cave.”

  “But how long will the public buy that story?” Newberry said.

  “Not long,” Skip answered, “but it would give us some time to figure out what to do next.”

  “What do you suggest we do next, Sheriff?” Mayor Johnson asked. He obviously wanted to put the decision-making back on Skip’s shoulders. That way, if anything else went wrong, he could also lay the blame on him.

  “The first thing I’m going to do is pay a visit to Jay Little Hawk.”

  “What does he have to do with any of this?”

  “I’m not sure. The last thing Lloyd said was for me to go see him...that he would know what to do. What that’s supposed to mean, I don’t know. I do know, however, that Little Hawk told Lloyd where to find the monster. That means he knows something.”

  “How long do you think we got before that thing pokes its head above ground again?” Fred asked.

  Skip shook his head. “I don’t know. I believe it’s nocturnal, so we shouldn’t have to worry about it in the daytime. In the meantime, I want the entire area, from Cemetery Road to Highway U, sealed off.”

  Chief Newberry spoke up: “If you want, I’ll lend you a couple of my units.”

  “Thanks, Alex. I’m going to need as much help as I can get. If you can spare it, I would like to have a couple of your men stationed just back from the cave’s entrance. If we’re going with the gas explosion story then the fire department is going to be involved. I’d feel a lot better knowing they had some protection out there.”

  Skip turned to Mayor Johnson. “Mayor, I’ll leave it up to you to handle the press.”

  Mayor Johnson nodded. “Don’t worry, I have a silver tongue when it comes to reporters.”

  Skip said, “Gentlemen, I don’t need to remind you that what is said in this room should stay in this room. If word leaks out about this, we’ll have a panic on our hands bigger and faster than you can imagine. I suggest you don’t even tell your wives about this.”

  “Hell, I don’t tell my wife anything anyway,” Mayor Johnson quipped.

  “Smart man,” said Fred Granger.

  “Now, gentlemen, if you please...I’ve got some families to notify.”

  Everyone except Deputy Hays rose to leave. Fred Granger and Chief Newberry exited the room together. The mayor followed them. Skip didn’t have to worry about Fred backing him. They’d been friends for years. He couldn’t say the same about Newberry. There never had been anything in the way of a real rivalry between them, but they had locked horns in the past. Still, Skip doubted if the police chief would risk causing a massive panic just to get even over a couple of minor disagreements.

  Deputy Hays remained seated in the straight-back chair by the side of the desk. Skip handed the bottle of whiskey to him. “That was a pretty good idea you had about the gas pocket.”

  The deputy didn’t bother with a cup. Unscrewing the cap, he tilted the bottle back and swallowed three good chugs.

  “They don’t believe us, do they?” he said, passing the bottle back to Skip.

  “Fred does.”

  “What about the others?”

  Skip wiped his hand across his mouth. “It’s not so much that they don’t believe, it’s just they’re having a hard time dealing with it. Can’t blame them; if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t be so quick about believing it either.”

  The deputy’s face looked drained. “Sheriff, I know I haven’t been with the department for very long, but those guys who died down there were my friends, probably the best ones I’ve ever had. We’re going to get that thing, aren’t we?”

  “Yeah, we’re going to get it.”

  Deputy Hays nodded. He stood up, stuffed his hands into his pockets and headed for the door. Then he turned back around. “It must suck having to call their families. I wouldn’t want your job for anything in the world.”

  “Right now, I don’t want it much, either.”

  Chapter 25

  FRIDAY MORNING

  They were expecting him.

  Jay Little Hawk was sitting on his back porch. To his right sat an elderly, white-haired man. They faced the west, watching the last patches of mist hugging the valley struggle against the overpowering warmth of the rising sun. Neither man turned to look when Skip pulled the Bronco to a stop beside the cabin. It was as though they already knew, without looking, who he was and why he’d come.

  Putting the pickup in park, Skip killed the engine and stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray. Little Hawk still hadn’t looked his way. Skip frowned; he didn’t like being ignored. Grabbing his hat, he eased out of the cab and closed the door behind him.

  “Good morning, Jay,” he said as he walked around the front of the truck.

  Hawk slowly turned his head in Skip’s direction and nodded. “Morning Sheriff. Grab a seat. Coffee’s still hot, if you’re interested.” He motioned to a vacant wooden chair in front of him.

  Skip quickly climbed the five short steps to the porch. A small wooden table had been placed strategically between the three chairs. On it sat a chipped and battered metal coffeepot, a sugar bowl and some loose packets of instant creamer. He noticed that three cups had been set out when there were only two of them drinking coffee.

  They really were expecting me. The thought, though nonsense, made him uncomfortable.

  Hawk didn’t speak until after he’d filled the sheriff’s cup. “I heard about the accident in the cave. I’m sorry.”

  Skip accepted the cup of coffee. “It wasn’t an accident.”

  The Indian paused and looked thoughtfully at him. “I know it wasn’t. Cream?”

  “No, thank you.” Skip cast a quick glance over at the old man, then looked back to Little Hawk. “What do you know, Jay?”

  Hawk ignored the question. “Sheriff, this is George Strong Eagle. He doesn’t speak any English...he’s come here to help us.”

  “Help us?” Skip set his coffee cup down and leaned forward. “Listen, I’ve never been one to beat around the bush, so let’s get to the point. The last thing Lloyd Baxter said to me was that I should come see you...that you might know what to do. Please tell me, what in God’s name is that thing?”

  Hawk lowered his head, took a deep breath and looked back up. There was a sudden sadness in his eyes, as though a great and terrible burden had been placed upon his shoulders. Slowly, with deliberate actions, he began to recite the legend of the Crota.

  When Jay Little Hawk finished with his story he leaned back in h
is chair, waiting for the sheriff’s response. Perhaps he expected a chuckle, a laugh or a snort of amusement. Skip didn’t even crack a smile.

  “Is that what you told Lloyd?” he asked.

  Hawk nodded. “I was coming to tell you, but he intercepted me in the hallway. After I left the hospital I went straight to the airport. If I knew then what I know now, I never would have left town.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Skip said. “Lloyd knew better. He should have come and told me what you said. I guess he was just trying to prove a point. He didn’t believe me about the monster.”

  “One thing bothers me, Sheriff. The Crota attacked you too, yet you live. How?”

  Skip pulled his butane lighter from his pants pocket and handed it to him. “It’s a birthday present from the guys at the station.”

  Hawk took the lighter, thumbed its wheel a couple of times, then passed it to Strong Eagle, translating what Skip had said. As Eagle turned the lighter over to examine it, the clothes of the curvy redhead on its side began to disappear. The old medicine man burst out laughing. He spoke rapidly to Hawk.

  “What’d he say?” Skip asked.

  Hawk smiled. “He says it’s pretty funny that your life was saved by a girlie lighter. Either the Crota doesn’t like fire or it doesn’t like pretty women.”

  Skip smiled at the old Indian’s humor.

  “But I don’t think it was the lighter.” Hawk leaned forward and touched the shell gorget that Skip wore. “I think this saved your life.”

  “My necklace?”

  He nodded. “Were you wearing it the night you were attacked?”

  “Yes, but...”

  “It is obviously a medicine piece. Very old. The spider and rattlesnake are considered godlike by most southeastern tribes.” He held out his hand. “Do you mind?”

  Skip untied the gorget and handed it to him. Hawk examined the shell disk closely before passing it to Strong Eagle. The old man turned the necklace over several times before speaking.

  “Strong Eagle also thinks that your necklace is a medicine piece.” Hawk handed the gorget back to Skip. “Where did you get it?”