Abominable

by Alan Nayes

  Shelby squelched any imagined grotesquely bloody images, instead bouncing her thoughts to the Canadian reporter’s descriptive use of the word “philanthropist.” She hated harboring any ill will toward a dead man, but she would never accept Ahmen as philanthropist. He killed and collected rare primates illegally. Only now it looked like the table had viciously turned on him. She watched the chairman watching her and wanted to say, If Astor and NASA hadn’t ordered the surgery or we hadn’t sold Goliath out, all this wouldn’t have happened…but kept her thoughts to herself. If Goliath wasn’t fatally wounded by one of Ahmen’s hired guns, the resulting Bear Island lockdown would assuredly ensure the giant’s demise. She found that thought more disturbing than the victims, though she was glad Ahmen’s estate support staff had not been harmed. “Any word on Goliath?” she found herself asking.

  Reddic shook his head. “LeBlanc didn’t reveal much. Except they’ve been unable to find Goliath.”

  “You spoke with LeBlanc? He was just quoted on the news.”

  “I told you. He has your number. He’s the lead investigator. Expect a call.”

  “Me?”

  Reddic rose and paced behind his desk, she was sure rehearsing answers to uncomfortable questions from the press. No one would ever forget Goliath had once called the Center home. “Shelby, if there is one human the public identifies with Goliath, it’s you. You know this primate better than anyone else…” Then gazing directly at her, “Whether you like it or not. You are the—”

  “Don’t say it, please.” Beauty and the Beast. God, the moniker grated on her.

  He appeared less comfortable with what he said next. “I’ve cleared your schedule for the next week.”

  “Why?” she asked, though she’d already guessed the answer. Reddic had done more than just talk with LeBlanc. Before he could reply, she asked, “When do I leave?”

  “They’d like you in Vancouver as soon as possible.”

  Shelby rose.

  “Shelby, one other thing.”

  She paused at the door.

  “Please be careful.”

  Matthieu LeBlanc wore a long-sleeve Gore-Tex shirt and black slacks in the chilly evening weather, eschewing even a light windbreaker in the moisture-laden air. Shelby had landed at Vancouver International Airport an hour earlier, where a Vancouver detective had picked her up and driven her directly to the police helipad. She’d stowed her luggage in a locker and was immediately flown to the Bear Island’s private helipad. She was glad she’d packed a heavy jacket because the wet air felt much colder than fifty-two. As she descended over the estate, the main mansion resembled a Chateau from some mid-twentieth-century movie set, replete with white limestone brick masonry, steeped roofs, tall chimneys, pilasters, parapets, roof dormers, and steeply pitched roofs. A wide stone stairway led down to the marina and boathouse. A larger secondary more modern building occupied an entire attached wing. The island did resemble a bear paw, she decided, with the heel narrow and heavily wooded and scarred with rocky bluffs while the lower elevation forefoot where the marina and housing were located was wider, flatter, and less forested.

  LeBlanc met her at the chopper and offered some rain gear. “I wish to thank you for coming on such short notice, Dr. Hollister. But as I’m sure you’re aware, we have quite an unusual situation here on Bear Island.”

  Shelby thought he sounded like and resembled that French actor Vincent Cassel, down to the square chin, gray hair, and blue eyes. “I hope I can help.” She noticed the numerous uniformed officers, mostly male but a few female, patrolling the lush green grounds spread out circumferentially around the compact concrete pad. “I take it you haven’t located Goliath.”

  He clasped his hands behind his back as he led her across the green lawn toward the main residence. “No, and that’s after professional trackers, dogs, and fly-overs with thermal imagers. If he remains on the island, he has outsmarted all of us.”

  Won’t be the first time he’s outthought us Homo sapiens. She was introduced to a second man, large and robust with gray hair and a thick beard. The uniform and title embroidered on his canvas rain jacket indicated he was with the Vancouver animal control. She figured this was probably a Canadian first—having a homicide detective and animal control officer investigating the same case. Dennis Mangine shook her hand, saying, “I’ve been asked to remove bears, coyotes, caribou, wolves, but never an ape.”

  Shelby replied while gazing at the scoped rifle slung over one shoulder, “I take it all of Ahmen’s men were armed.”

  LeBlanc and Mangine led her to a covered Jeep. Overhead, several news choppers flew in large circles. At least the press had not been allowed direct access to the island yet.

  The detective said, “All but two carried rifles and pistols with enough fire power to take out a pack of wolves or a very angry grizzly. Ahmen packed a top-of-the-line Barnett compound crossbow and another man was unarmed, though an electronic tracker was found near his body.”

  Mangine pulled up a photo on his cell phone. “Took this near where Ahmen was found. Twenty-one inches from heel to tip of the second toe.”

  Shelby gazed at the image of the footprint embedded in the wet earth, only nodding. The photo brought back the sensation of disbelief when she’d first seen the foot pads in the UCO. She wiped some loose hair from her forehead and glanced back at the receding estate house and marina. “That’s the south side of Bear Island, correct?”

  LeBlanc indicated yes. “From what we can ascertain after talking to witnesses, the ape escaped in the marina and then headed up toward the bluffs.”

  Shelby looked past the intermittent swishing of the wiper blades to the rising forest leading to the rocky escarpments. “Those bluffs are north then.”

  “Correct,” Mangine replied, adding, “I’ve only seen photos. Is this primate really that big?”

  Shelby watched six armed men load into an SUV. “Over ten feet tall and seventeen hundred pounds.”

  LeBlanc cast the animal control man a sidelong glance. “If the permits had reflected more accurately just what he was transporting, he never would have been allowed across the border.”

  Shelby didn’t comment as the point was moot at this stage of the game. “I’d like to see where Ahmen’s men were found,” she said.

  The detective shifted into gear. “That’s where we’re going, Dr. Hollister.”

  The locations of where the coroner had removed each of the bodies had been marked with wide strips of yellow plastic held in place with aluminum stakes. Shelby counted two strips at the mouth of a cave into the bluff and three more separated by ten yards or more under the tamaracks and spruces. She thought she spotted a couple more back in the woods but these were spread out in different directions. The rain continued in a steady drizzle and she could hear the low waves beyond the bluff washing up along the rocky shore. If she’d been standing on the island for any other reason, the surroundings would have created a tranquil relaxing atmosphere. Not today. The cool air only added to the deep chill she was already experiencing.

  When LeBlanc finished talking to the other six men who had followed them in the SUV, he walked over to Shelby. She watched Mangine snap a cell phone photo of the cave and then proceed into the woods with two of the men, continuing the search, she presumed, while the remaining uniforms posted themselves in a perimeter pattern surrounding the dark stone maw. She could feel all the men paying her particular attention, though they appeared to be attempting to be unobtrusive about it. She could almost read their thoughts. We haven’t found Goliath, maybe she can.

  “Which yellow strip is Ahmen?” Shelby asked.

  LeBlanc led her to the cave. “As far as we can tell, the ape ambushed Mr. Ahmen at the entrance, and then proceeded to take down the others.”

  Shelby found herself staring uneasily inside the dark stone vault even as LeBlanc commented, “No worry. I can assure you the cave is empty. Now.”

  She shifted her gaze morbidly
at the pair of yellow strips separated by a few feet. “There’s two. Who is the other one?”

  LeBlanc answered matter-of-factly, “Both belong to Ahmen. His decapitated head was found a little ways out from the entrance.”

  Shelby nodded impassively. She couldn’t say she felt any profound sorrow for the collector, though she certainly would not have wished this ending on anyone. When she didn’t speak, LeBlanc continued, “A few of the others were mutilated as well. Those not ripped apart were crushed. How this animal was able to get the jump on this many armed men, I’m having difficulty comprehending. Hell, all they had to do was pull the trigger.”

  Shelby recalled Goliath’s brutal rampage at the Animal Institute. “He’s incredibly fast and powerful. Plus it was night and raining. But yes, I agree, it all does seem quite improbable.”

  LeBlanc removed a small glassine evidence bag from his shirt pocket. “This was found near Ahmen’s body.”

  Shelby recognized the tiny microchip tracker. “That would certainly make it easier to find him.”

  “True. It seems it was removed.”

  “By whom?”

  LeBlanc replaced the chip. “We think the ape ripped it out.”

  Shelby could only shake her head. “Amazing,” she muttered. How intelligent was this primate?

  She caught LeBlanc checking the other men. “This creature knows you,” he was saying. “I observed film of how you handled that child rescue situation in Los Angeles. Your chairman at the Center where you do research tells me you’ve developed a relationship with this ape. Dr. Reddic says the ape trusts you. Only you.”

  Shelby could feel LeBlanc’s eyes back on her and suddenly realized why she’d been summoned to Bear Island. Her primate expertise could have been consulted over the phone regarding Goliath but it wouldn’t have been the same. No, she was here for one reason. To lure Goliath back out in the open. “It won’t work,” she said.

  LeBlanc didn’t comment, rather motioned her to follow him up a natural trail above the cave. The view from the top of the bluff was magnificent even in the heavy cloud cover and rain, and she could see across the leaden strait in all directions—Vancouver to the east and more heavily forested land south, north, and west. In the far distance, mountain peaks north and east. He said, “Call him.”

  “You’re really serious.”

  “I am.”

  Shelby looked around her, the wind tousling her hair. She felt foolish but realized she stood perched on the island’s highest point. Her voice would carry. “You said you’ve searched the entire island. How could your men overlook something that big?”

  “That beast has killed at least nine people so far. Will you at least try?”

  “It’s getting dark.”

  “There’s time. Please.”

  She focused on the gray water about halfway to the mainland. “And if it doesn’t work?”

  “We’ll try elsewhere on Bear Island.”

  “And if that doesn’t work?”

  The investigator shrugged. “Nous avons essayé. We’ve tried.”

  She considered his request. “And if it does work?”

  He shrugged a second time. “We shoot the ape.”

  The attempts didn’t work on the bluff or anywhere else on the island. Shelby wasn’t sure how she felt about this, other than being somewhat embarrassed at shouting out Goliath’s name—she was even given a powerful battery-operated bullhorn to increase her oratory reach. However, if she had been totally honest with herself, she might have admitted she experienced a sense of relief when Goliath never showed. Whose side am I on? She wouldn’t allow herself to contemplate the answer.

  Even up on the bluff earlier with LeBlanc, she’d known it would fail, but the Canadian authorities had purchased her airfare so she’d honored their request.

  By nightfall, the rain had finally stopped, leaving the air over the marina feeling as soggy as a cold sponge. She’d examined where the barge and trailer had been moored and was on her way back up the stone steps to the estate and helipad when LeBlanc stopped her and pointed across the Strait of Georgia. “Could your giant ape swim to the mainland?”

  My giant ape? Again? Shelby followed his gaze across the open expanse of gray water. “No,” she said.

  The investigator motioned the animal control men by him. “Then where is he, if he’s not on Bear Island?”

  Shelby had already considered this scenario. “I didn’t say he wouldn’t try.”

  “And if he made the attempt?”

  “He would drown.”

  CHAPTER 38

  When the end of September rolled by without hearing a word of the giant primate, Shelby knew it was unlikely they ever would. For fifteen days from the date of the infamous Bear Island massacre, the search for Goliath had morphed into the largest international “manhunt” in recent US and Canadian history. And each day that passed without a clue of his whereabouts or fate only added to the Abominable Snowman mystique. The giant primate had taken on mythical proportions. In days, he’d grown in stature with reports circulating his actual height surpassed eighteen feet and he tipped the scales at just over two and a half metric tons.

  Shelby called bullshit when she had the chance, doing her part to highlight the actual facts. Hell, Goliath had been gargantuan enough without the media frenzy embellishments. Pundits discussed the currents in the Strait of Georgia and where the huge carcass would eventually drift and beach itself. The strait was sounded by sonar and every other conceivable electronic device, turning up only a wooden shipwreck from the nineteenth century. By mid-September, the coverage began to die, moving on to other more current stories. Shelby decided the day would arrive when Goliath would not only be the missing giant, but also the forgotten giant.

  Reported Goliath “sightings” had dropped drastically over the last several weeks. Nothing was ever substantiated and most were labeled as hoaxes.

  The first week of October brought the dry Los Angeles Santa Ana winds followed by a welcome thunder shower. Shelby looked up from her desk computer and gazed out her window to Western Avenue. Though the fall rain shower had let up, traffic remained gridlocked. Some things never changed. Southern California would always thirst for water and Los Angeles drivers would never learn to drive in the rain.

  She returned to the computer monitor, reviewing the magnificent display for the adult female Gigantopithecus specimen. Until proven otherwise, the remains and Goliath would belong to this genus of giant apes. Every time she looked at the massive bones and huge double crested skull, she thought of the female’s larger mate. Especially when it rained out. Shelby had spent four days in Vancouver doing what she could to assist in the investigation of Goliath’s whereabouts. In the end, her consensus had become everyone else’s consensus, including LeBlanc’s. The giant primate had fled the isolated island and drowned in the Strait of Georgia. He never reached the mainland. For weeks after she returned to LA, she’d scoured the cable news channels and Internet websites, expecting to read about a huge white hairy corpse washing up on some secluded Canadian shoreline. It never happened. Goliath had become as invisible as the day before John had discovered the alien UCO frozen in the ice of the Little Okpilak Glacier offshoot.

  She tapped a cursor to zoom in on the adult female primate’s bony cranium. The pair of double circular holes above the right orbit would always grab her attention whenever she gazed upon the fully preserved prehistoric giant. Reddic had decided to exhibit the beautifully assembled articulated skeleton in the Primatology Center’s main lobby and once Shelby had revealed her theory regarding the skull defects, Reddic had requested Ms. Goliath’s story—yes, that was the public name bestowed upon the reconstruction, Ms. Goliath—be presented along with the display. Ms. Goliath had been murdered, along with the giant prehistoric couple’s young offspring, which would eventually become part of the exhibit. The holes proved it. In reality, Shelby could only prove two things—the holes were placed antemortem an
d they were not caused naturally. Everything else was conjecture, a guess, and not a very educated guess. She’d stuck with the extraterrestrial scenario. NASA, SETI, and the public bought into the alien visitation scenario where the huge primate had been trapped against his will and his family killed when attempting to rescue him. It conjured up enough drama, mystery, violence, and even some romance (Goliath and his mate, Ms. Goliath) that rumors soon began to circulate Hollywood was negotiating the rights from both the military and Ahmen’s estate to produce a movie.

  The juvenile bones remained locked in Shelby’s research lab. The skeleton was far from complete and she’d hoped John’s search of the Little Okpilak Glacier site might turn up more, but the military’s effort to locate primate bones or anything else alien related to Goliath came up a dry hole.

  Shelby remained on the sidelines which she preferred, though that didn’t mean she wasn’t satisfying her own curiosity with certain aspects of the case.

  Max Bonds called her in late October with a follow-up to the UCO and octahedron removed from Goliath’s temporal lobe. “Dr. Reddic sent me a synopsis of the exhibition story the Center is displaying with Ms. Goliath and I thought you might be interested in the final NASA scientists’ verdict of what happened to these two unidentified devices. Might be able to incorporate it.”

  Shelby no longer held a grudge against the space agency, or the military for that matter, over how the Goliath situation was handled, and appreciated Bonds’ gesture, though she figured NASA would request a credit in the final science exhibit, which she was fine with.

  Bonds started. “Extraterrestrials did visit our planet twenty-eight thousand years ago. But it wasn’t just aliens from another part of our universe but from a completely separate universe.”

  “Interdimensional travel then.”

  “That is the only way we can rationalize scientifically the tremendous amounts of energy these devices possessed, especially the UCO, and the astronomic distances involved—thousands or even hundreds of thousands of light years. It would also explain how they abruptly vanished. Travel over these distances in the conventional sense is just not possible as we know travel. But in theory, transportation between dimensions can take place in the blink of an eye. One second they are here, the next they are there.”