Footprints of Thunder

by James F. David

  “Honey, I’m getting a bad feeling about this. I trust that Coop, I can handle him, but Carl and the guys are a different story. And what are they doing with all those guns? Did you notice two of them are carrying assault rifles? I’m not saying I won’t go with you, don’t think that for a minute,” Angie was saying. “I just want you to know what we’re getting into. Carl and his buddies are just having a good time now, a chance to get away from some mill or factory job, and cat around. Maybe Coop can keep them in line—probably he can.”

  “Angie, you’ve done enough. You’ve brought me all the way across the state on back roads, spent your time and money when you could have been lounging around a motel pool waiting for Bill. Go on back, I can handle it from here. I don’t trust them either, but I’d make a deal with the devil to get to my son. I’ve got to know if he’s there, if he’s somewhere.”

  “You want me to ride with Carl.”

  “Angie, I said you didn’t have to go.”

  “I heard you honey, now who do you want to ride with?”

  Ellen smiled at Angie and then leaned over and hugged her.

  “I’ll ride with Carl. You work your magic on Coop.”

  “He’ll be horny enough to hump a tree by the time this motorcycle ride’s over.”

  Ellen was sure about that. She only hoped Carl wouldn’t feel the same way.

  When she and Angie climbed on the bikes the other guys grunted their approval with “all rights” and “way to go”s. All of them were looking at Angie and Coop except Carl, who made a disgusting “smacking” sound and then winked at her. Ellen hated riding behind Carl. When she spread her legs wide to squeeze in beside him, Carl pressed between her legs and made another disgusting sound.

  The other bikers led off across the bridge and then turned and dropped down the sharp bank to the rocky creek bed. Ellen tried hanging on to the seat, but the terrain was rough and bouncy. She hated putting her arms around him, so she grabbed his coat, only leaning against him occasionally to keep her balance. Ellen noticed that Angie wasn’t as picky—she had her arms around Coop and her chest pressed up against his back.

  After a while Ellen relaxed a little. She began to trust Carl— at least his riding skills.

  After what seemed like hours the lead rider, a big man called Bobby, stopped and rode back to talk with Coop. Bobby had powerful-looking suntanned arms, and scraggly blond hair, with a half-grown beard on his boyish face. Bobby asked about something being “around here somewhere?” and Coop pointed up over the bank. Bobby rode out into the creek a little way, then the motorcycle jumped forward and roared up the bank, actually becoming airborne as he cleared the rim and he disappeared over the top. After a while he reappeared and signaled the others to follow. One by one the bikers launched themselves over the edge.

  Coop and Carl waited for the others, and then Coop leaned back and said something to Angie, who wrapped her arms tighter and leaned into him. Coop too roared up the bank, the bike fishtailing and then straightening as it continued up over the edge.

  Carl turned to Ellen and said, “Do it like Angie did, hang on tight and lean into me as we climb.”

  Ellen wanted to get off and climb the bank herself. It would make more sense than making a risky climb with two on a cycle built for one. But she knew the bikers didn’t care. This wasn’t about climbing a hill, it was some sort of macho thing, and all the guys were waiting to see if Carl could make the climb. The fact that Coop, the nerd, had done it with Angie on his bike made it imperative that Carl do the same.

  If Ellen was to handle Carl, she could not risk damaging his ego. Being married to Terry meant picking up bits and pieces of psychology whether you want to or not. Ellen knew that the best way to turn someone violent was to wound his ego.

  Carl gunned the engine and pointed the fork of the bike at the lowest part of the bank. Swallowing her revulsion, she wrapped her arms around Carl’s waist and leaned into him, hoping he was too preoccupied to feel her breasts flatten against his back. Then Carl released the clutch. The bike flew forward and suddenly the front end of the bike tilted up at a sharp angle. The speed of the bike fell quickly and the engine began to strain. Just as they slowed to a near stop, the front of the bike dropped back flat, and they were over the top.

  The other bikers were watching them clear the bank. Carl raced down the line of bikes for a victory lap and then turned around and stopped in front of the line. Bobby and the rest of the bikers applauded and yelled, “All right.” Then Bobby stared right at Ellen.

  “Looks like she’s coming round, Carl.”

  Ellen realized she still had her arms wrapped around Carl. She let go and sat back, giving Bobby a piercing look. He just smiled.

  They cut through a sparse stand of Douglas fir to a field of strawberry plants. Running along the far side was a forest. Ellen had heard about it on the CB, but seeing it made it even more unbelievable. The trees were not the expected fir or yew, and she realized they were huge. As the forest loomed above her she identified the trees as redwood, as big as any she had seen along the Avenue of Giants in California. The guys stopped their bikes at the edge, staring at the trees in awe. The undergrowth was sparse but oversize. Some ferns grew nearly as tall as Ellen, and big patches of grass climbed nearly six feet in height. Elephant grass? she wondered.

  Ellen thought back to the kid in the cave. It seemed like a hundred years ago. “The end of the world,” that’s what he had said. Ellen looked at the forest and wondered if he had been talking about this. Mountains on I-5, a redwood forest dropped on Portland? Is this how the world was to end? In confusion?

  Even the guys were surprised by the forest. When they started off again Coop led, with Carl right behind. They rode across the strawberry rows, crushing the plants as they followed the edge of the forest. Worried about the damage, Ellen looked around for a farmhouse but saw no buildings. She was so close to her son now, she didn’t want to get stopped for trespassing. Finally, Coop cut into the forest and Ellen could see what he had been looking for—a clearing on the other side. They rode to the middle of it, where Coop stopped. Carl pulled up next to him and the guys pulled up on both sides.

  “I saw him right over there,” Coop said, pointing.

  Ellen wondered what “him” they were talking about.

  “Bullshit,” said the one called Kishton. He was the shortest of the group but probably the strongest; his upper arms and chest were muscular, forming a body builder’s classic V shape. He also had the only full beard in the group.

  “I still say it’s bullshit.”

  “Coop wouldn’t lie to us, would you, Coop?” Carl said.

  Kishton shut up and looked around.

  This is the classic adolescent friendship pattern, Ellen thought. How had Terry described it? “A like-minded group of males loosely associated for the purpose of fellowship, with no formal leader.” As Ellen remembered it, the individuals of the group would adamantly deny there was a leader, yet to an outsider the leader was clearly discernible. Carl was the leader here. Ellen knew leadership depended on having something the other males prized—being the strongest, having the best car, or making it with girls. Ellen studied Carl and decided he wasn’t the toughest. Kishton probably was, or maybe Bobby. Carl didn’t look that tough, yet he was clearly the leader. Why? Kishton started talking again.

  “All right, if he’s here, how do we find the mother?”

  “Coop’ll find him, won’t you Coop?”

  It wasn’t really a question. Carl was telling Coop to deliver what they were looking for, or else.

  They seemed to have forgotten about Ellen’s son, so she spoke up. “I thought you were going to help me find my son. What about us?”

  Carl turned to Ellen and smiled broadly, revealing his missing eye tooth.

  “Oh, don’t worry. We’ll be getting to you. Lead off, Coop, I’ll pick up the rear.”

  Angie pulled Ellen to one side and put her arm around her shoulder.

  “How you
doing with good ole Carl? You want me to switch with you?”

  “No. You’re doing a great job with Coop. Just keep him under your spell.”

  “Don’t you worry about that. He’s mine,” Angie giggled.

  Coop led them once around the perimeter of the clearing and then headed through the trees. The ferns and grass were thick and tall in the clearing, but once under the canopy of the giants the undergrowth thinned. The going was slow but steady. Carl kept cussing and kicking at the clumps of vegetation as they worked their way around and through the undergrowth. Once Carl rode close to a patch of grass that brushed Ellen’s arm, leaving three painful, bleeding slices, like paper cuts.

  They broke out of the trees into another clearing, and Ellen looked around Carl in time to see Coop and Angie drop over an edge and disappear. One by one the other cycles followed. Carl went over the edge last, into a soggy creek bed with a small stream running through the middle. The going was slippery here, but they made better time. There wasn’t much of a bank, and Ellen could watch the scenery. The forest thickened and thinned in no particular pattern, but it was becoming clear that Portland was no longer here. Ellen realized if Portland was gone, so was her son.

  Coop led them back up a bank into a clearing and stopped, turning off his motor.

  “Looky there,” Coop said, pointing into the clearing.

  Ellen could see nothing but grass and clumps of ferns. Suddenly a head popped up over the top of the ferns, with a dome, perched on a long thin neck, and covered with a gray-green skin. Ferns were hanging from its mouth and its eyes were fixed on their group. Ellen had never seen one before, at least not alive, but it was a dinosaur,

  “Hot damn!” Carl screamed. “That mother is mine.”

  “Holy shit, deputy dawg wasn’t lying.”

  “I told you. I wouldn’t prevaricate about something like this.”

  Ellen watched as the men pulled their rifles and checked the load,

  “Leave it alone!” Ellen shouted. “If that’s a dinosaur, it’s the last of its kind. You can’t kill it. Let’s just leave it alone.”

  “Who asked you?” Kishton snapped. “I say whoever nails it gets dibs on its head.”

  The rest of the guys cheered and yelled, “All right.”

  “I don’t know about this,” Coop added. But he looked nervously at Carl and the other guys, and whatever he was going to say withered away under their gaze.

  “She’s right, boys,” Angie cut in. “That dinosaur is worth a lot more alive than dead.”

  The mention of money slowed them down until Carl spoke,

  “Hell, there’s more where that one came from.”

  Excited, the men jump-started their bikes and were off, bumping across the rough terrain. Only Coop and Carl hung back, Carl fixing Coop with a piercing stare.

  “You one of us or not, Coop?”

  “You know I’m with you, Carl,” Coop said weakly. But it was becoming clear to Ellen that Coop had bought his way into this group with his knowledge of the dinosaur.

  Poor, nerdy, Coop was beginning to look like Ellen felt. The deeper they got into the forest, and further from civilization, the less civilized the “guys” were.

  The dinosaur hunt was on. Briefly, the creature watched the cycles coming toward it, then it bolted in the other direction. As it ran, Ellen watched intently. Running on two legs, it was faster than a man—about eight feet tall with long forelegs and a domed head.

  The cyclists split up, racing to each side of the running dinosaur, trying to cut it off before it reached the forest. One cyclist, burly, balding Butler, who seldom spoke, skidded to a stop and fired his rifle. The shot missed, but the sound made the running dinosaur bolt to the right, forcing Kishton to swerve. As he did he clipped a clump of ferns, and the front wheel of the bike buried into the patch, launching him over the handlebars.

  Butler fired again, and this time the dinosaur dropped to its knees, skidding and then bouncing onto its long neck. Now Butler jumped on his bike and raced after the remaining cyclists as they closed in, but before they could shoot him again the dinosaur was up and racing toward the trees. Too far away to see the action, Coop started up his bike, Angie climbing on behind him. But Carl made no move to follow, and Ellen had no intention of squeezing up behind him unless she absolutely had to.

  The motorcyclists cut the dinosaur off again, and it raced toward the center of the clearing. Anguished, Ellen could see blood running down its right rear leg. She gave up hope of saving it and wished now they would kill it and get it over with. But the bikers were enjoying the hunt.

  The dinosaur circled back toward Carl and Ellen, coming straight for them. Ellen had a good view now as the dinosaur closed on them, but suddenly another shot rang out, and the dinosaur went down, dropping onto its right side and struggling to get up. Its back legs seemed to be working but the front ones could not support its weight, and they collapsed, creating a pivot, and the dinosaur went into a spin.

  The animal’s blood soaked the ground as it flattened a circle of grass, going round and round. The hunters gathered, pointing and laughing at the spectacle—until Coop joined them.

  Coop got off his bike, angrily confronting Bobby, who pushed his face within inches of Coop’s and began shouting. Angie wrapped her arms around Coop’s waist and pulled him back, then Bobby said something that made the others laugh. The hunters went back to enjoying the dinosaur’s struggle. After Angie and Coop talked for a second, Coop turned, pulled his revolver, and emptied it into the dinosaur.

  The hunters jumped back at the sound of the revolver and watched—then they turned on him.

  Even from this distance Ellen could feel their anger. Ellen started forward, fearing for Angle’s safety, but a rough grip on her arm stopped her.

  “Let ‘em party,” Carl smirked, pulling Ellen toward him.

  Ellen put her hands on Carl’s chest and pushed. Leering, Carl wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled. He was strong and could have pulled her flat up against him, but the cruel look in his eyes told Ellen he was enjoying her struggle. Then Carl began to exert more pressure, drawing Ellen toward him. Suddenly, he dropped his hand, wrapping it around her bottom and pulling her hips tight up against his. He held her there briefly and then began grinding his hips against hers.

  “Stop it, Carl! Let me go.”

  “Where you going? They’re done huntin’. Nuthin’ left to see.”

  “I’ve got to find my son.”

  “Lady, ain’t it clear to you yet? There’s nuthin’ here. It’s all gone, the city, the people … your son. Looks like you’re gonna need another. I’ll be glad to help you make one,”

  As Carl shifted his weight, bending her over backward, he tripped her. Ellen crashed to the ground with him on top. She could smell the liquor on his breath again. His eyes still looked cruel and his lips still sneered. Now Ellen began to struggle again and pounded on the sides of his head. As he yelped and jerked back to protect his face, Ellen pounded harder.

  “Get off me!” she screamed.

  Carl wasn’t laughing now, he was dodging blows—then Ellen heard someone else laughing.

  “Carl, looks like you bit off more than you can chew there.”

  Ellen stopped pounding and Carl dropped his hands to see Kishton watching them. He’d fallen in the sharp-edged grass and bled from dozens of cuts. His face, shirt, and pants were torn and blood soaked.

  “Beat it, Kishton, I’m busy,” Carl snarled.

  Ellen realized Carl’s ego was wounded. After all, Kishton had seen him getting slapped around by a woman. Now Carl would retaliate. Before Kishton could decide whether to leave or watch, Coop came roaring up. Angie immediately jumped off and helped Ellen off the ground. Without a word to Carl, she just pulled Ellen off to one side, asking if she was okay.

  Coop looked angry. “What the hell were you doing, Carl? We’re here to assist her in locating her boy, remember? You perpetrate something like that again and I’ll… I’ll…”


  “You’ll what? Arrest me? You see any fuckin jails around here? Shee-it, you’re not even a real deputy.”

  “Am so. I’m a reserve officer—”

  “Coop, you ain’t nuthin’ but a pain in Sheriff Peter’s ass. The only reason he keeps you around is cause me and the boys won’t work for the slave wages he pays you. Are you that stupid, Coop? He’s offered me, Kishton here, and nearly every one of the others your job at one time or another. Ain’t that right, Kishton? I’ll tell you something else, Coop, I’m thinkin’ we don’t need you anymore. We got the dinosaur. Just what else are you good for?”

  His tone sounded final, and Angie and Ellen pulled each other closer. Coop had never had much authority, and even that was eroding fast. If they sent Coop back, or worse, nothing would keep Carl from Ellen. Coop was watching nervously to see if Kishton would intervene. They were interrupted by the grisly sight of Butler roaring up with the head of the dinosaur strapped to the back of his motorcycle. The others followed, each with a dinosaur leg strapped to the back of his bike.

  “You call that baby a dinosaur?” Ellen asked. All heads turned toward her.

  “Baby?” Butler said, jerking his head toward the head on the back of his bike. “You call this mother a baby?”

  “That’s right,” Ellen continued, “they grow much bigger than this. Some of them are as big as a three-story building. They come so big, that I doubt you’re man enough to bring one down. Isn’t that right, Coop? I bet you could find us a bigger one, couldn’t you, Coop?”

  Angie chimed in. “I’ve seen these things in movies and I know they come bigger than this. Did you ever see that King Kong movie? Think they get that big, Coop?”

  No one was listening to Coop’s answer. The men were talking among themselves. Someone dug a bottle of Old Crow out of a saddlebag and they started passing it around, reliving the hunt and planning the next one. As they talked Carl gave Ellen a look that said there was unfinished business between them.

  After the men fortified themselves they were back on the cycles. Ellen had only two choices, and she swallowed back her fear and climbed up behind Carl. Angie gave her a look that said she would trade places, but Ellen couldn’t do it to her. Besides, Ellen thought, Angie seemed to be handling Coop quite well, and they needed whatever control over the guys he had left.