by David Wood
“Not a slingshot. A sling. You know, like David and Goliath. They’re easy to make.”
“I don’t see how Jack could have done it,” Bone said, turning back to face Logan. “This place is a long way from where we ran into him. How could he have come here, gotten what he needed, and then gotten back in time to attack us?”
“It’s not a long way if you know where you’re going.” Jack had arrived at the shed. “I knew I’d left some prints in the swamp, so I sent you that way and then ran home to get my stuff. I figured I’d track you down and mess with you a little. I flung a few rocks at you and then took the long way home. You were following my trail which is why it took you so long.”
“We did take a lunch break while you made the casting of the footprint,” Bones said to Slater.
“But still…” Slater began.
Bones shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. We’ve solved the mystery. I’m sorry it’s not what you hoped it would be but at least you have your answer.”
“I’ll give you all a ride back to your car,” Logan said.
“That won’t be necessary.” Slater bit off each word. “We can find our way back.”
“Please. I’ve done you wrong. At least let me do this one little thing for you.” He grinned at Bones. “I also won’t make an issue of the incident that happened at the river.” He waited for Bones to fill the silence, but Bones knew that trick and held his tongue. “Two boys said a great big Indian jumped them and stole their truck keys. Had to pay a locksmith to cut a new set.”
“It serves them right,” Carly said.
Logan laughed. “I’m sure it does. Them two are no good. I’ve been dealing with them for years. Now, how about that ride?”
Chapter 12
The alarm on his phone vibrated. Bones rolled out of bed and shut it off. Midnight. Time to move.
While the Keurig in his hotel room brewed a cup of strong coffee, he bathed his face in cold water and then trickled a little down the back of his neck for good measure. He’d reluctantly declined Slater’s invitation to dinner in favor of an early bedtime, knowing he’d be up in the middle of the night. When his coffee was ready, he grabbed it along with his keys, strapped on his Recon knife, pocketed his MagLite, and headed out the door.
The soupy Florida air enveloped him in its damp arms the moment he stepped out the door. No matter how long he lived, he doubted he’d ever grow accustomed to the humidity. He spared one longing thought for the lumpy mattress and blasting air conditioning in his room, and then closed the door behind him.
“I knew you didn’t buy his story,” said a soft voice.
Bones grinned. “I wondered why you gave up so easily.” He turned to see Slater sitting on the floor, back against the door of her room. Smiling, she cracked open a can of energy drink.
“I didn’t want to pound this baby until I was sure you were coming out.”
“Drink it slow. Those things will mess you up.” Bones winced at the sound of his words. Caution was Maddock’s thing, not his.
“Understood. Help me up?” She reached out a hand and Bones hauled her to her feet. “So, what’s the plan?”
“Here, I’ll show you.” He took out his phone and called up the map he’d studied earlier. “Logan’ house is here, near the bend in the Myakka River. This area here is pure swamp—it’s a no-man’s land all the way to the spot where I estimate the sunken galleon sits, and well beyond. I think it’s worth checking out. We’ll park down the road from Logan’ house and try and find the trail.”
Forty minutes later, Bones pulled his truck off to the side of the rutted dirt road that led to Logan’ home. He pulled it into the woods out of sight of the main road and cut the engine.
“Do you want to wait here while I see if I can pick up the trail?” he asked Slater.
“Not a chance. You’ll go on without me and I’ll be left sitting here looking like an idiot.” She reached into her backpack and took out a small handheld video recorder.
“No cameras,” Bones said.
“What are you talking about?”
“This isn’t for the show. This is about satisfying my own curiosity.” He saw the hard look in her eyes. “If you bring a camera, I’ll just slip off into the woods and leave you wandering til morning.”
Slater looked like she might take that as a challenge, but then her shoulders sagged and she returned the camera to its bag. “You’re an ass, you know that?”
“I know. My sister reminds me every chance she gets.”
Slater cocked her head. “You have a sister? What’s she like?”
“Pretty like you; abrasive personality like me.” While Slater chewed on that, he reached into the glove box and took out his Glock. He checked the magazine and then slipped the holster onto his belt.
“You’re not thinking about shooting Logan, are you?”
“I’m not thinking of shooting anybody. I just want to have the option in case we’re forced to defend ourselves. Come on. We’re wasting time.”
Using only the moonlight to illuminate his path, he led the way into the woods. A few minutes later, the mobile home loomed in the distance. A single light glowed from somewhere inside, but otherwise all was dark and quiet.
“Do you need my flashlight?” Slater whispered.
“I’ve got it covered.” He took out his MagLite, into which he’d slipped a red lens, and turned it on. “White light would draw too much attention and would screw up my night vision. This way we’re unlikely to be spotted.”
“You’re smarter than you look.”
“And you’re not,” he replied with a wink.
“Point for your side.”
Bones carefully searched the area behind the outbuilding where Logan had shown them the false feet earlier that day. Finally, he came across a partial print, and then another.
“We’ve got a trail,” he whispered.
“That took a long time. Think we’ll be back in time for breakfast?”
“I always tell a lady to plan on being out all night. This time is no different.” He winked, though he was sure she couldn’t see it in the dark. “If we’re lucky, the tracks follow that trail up ahead.” He pointed to a game trail that wound off into the forest.
They hurried along, and Bones was encouraged to find enough tracks and sign to keep them moving at a steady clip. Whatever had passed this way, it had been in a hurry. Here and there he picked up shoe prints the size of a youth or a small man. Jack had been this way.
The path curved around to the southeast, bending back toward the swamp. The air grew dank and the ground sloppy.
“Do you think we’re headed back toward the old ship?” Slater asked.
Bones shook his head. “Wrong direction. I think…” He froze. A powerful stench wafted through the night air. “Get down.” He put his hand on Slater’s shoulder and forced her down into a crouch.
“Do you see something?”
“Not yet. I caught a whiff of something so I’m playing it safe. I don’t want any big rocks flying at our heads.” He waited, looking and listening, but nothing seemed to be about. “I guess we follow our noses.” He turned out his MagLite, drew his Glock, and began to move forward.
“Don’t use your gun on them,” Slater pleaded.
“Not unless it’s in defense of our lives. I generally don’t relish killing. There have been a few people I didn’t mind taking out, but they all deserved it.”
“If you say so.”
The trail soon disappeared, giving way to soggy earth that squelched with each step, threatening to suck the boots off of their feet. Slater let out a small gasp of surprise as she suddenly found herself ankle-deep in muck.
“So gross.” She grimaced as she slowly worked her foot out of the mire. “We won’t be able to go much farther, I don’t think.”
“Don’t be so sure. There are stepping stones up ahead.” The faint slivers of moonlight cast a thin, silver glow on a line of flat stones in the midst of the swamp.
“Where do you think it goes?” Slater asked.
Bones took a deep breath. “Only one way to find out.”
Chapter 13
Bones took the steps with painstaking care, trying hard to make no sound as he crept forward. The stepping stones led them on a curving path through the black water, bending around ancient oak and cypress and beneath gray curtains of Spanish moss, until the way suddenly opened up and Bones froze.
Before them lay an island in the middle of the swamp. Dotted with huge oak trees, their overlapping branches forming a roof-like canopy, the place was well hidden, even from above. The odor he now associated with the skunk ape hung heavy in the air.
“Should we go closer?” Slater whispered.
“Let’s wait a minute.” He turned out his light and allowed his eyes to fully adjust to the darkness.
The largest oak at the center of the island was hollowed out at the base, cave-like. As he watched, he saw something move there. Slater grabbed his wrist and squeezed. She saw it too.
Something emerged from the darkness out into the moonlight. Its shape was vaguely human, with cords of muscles knotting its broad shoulders, short neck, and powerful arms and legs. A thatch of thick hair hung down to its shoulders, but otherwise it had little more body hair than an adult homo sapiens. Its brow jutted out in a prominent ridge, shading eyes that were mere pools of black in the dim light.
“Oh my God.” Slater’s faint voice scarcely reached his ear. “It really is a primitive human. But what kind is it? Neanderthal? Cro Magnon? Something else?”
“I don’t know. It’s not exactly my area of expertise.”
Slater continued to grip his wrist. “But humans didn’t come to the Americas until late in history. They were Paleo-Indians, not primitive hominids.”
“I guess that theory needs revising. Trust me, it’s far from the strangest thing I’ve ever learned.”
Bones continued to gaze at the creature, mesmerized by its presence, by its very reality. The thing walked hunched over, sometimes scurrying on all fours, other times loping along on two legs as it moved back and forth along the waterline. Finally it picked up a long, pointed stick, and returned to the edge of the water. A faint sliver of silver light shone on its face, and Bones finally got a good look at it.
“I think it’s young. No facial hair, not a lot of body hair either.”
It squatted there, its prominent jaw working as it gazed intently at the water. Slowly it raised the sharpened stick.
“What’s it doing?” Slater asked.
In a flash, it brought the stick down, and drew it back to reveal a skewered fish flopping at the end.
“Fishing.” Bones grinned and turned toward Slater. “What are you doing?”
Slater held her phone up, recording video of the scene.
“I have to.” She snatched the phone in close to her body and took a step back. “This is too incredible to just ignore. I can’t pretend… whoa!” She stepped backward into the water, her arms flailing as she struggled to regain her balance, and her phone went flying. Bones managed to catch her before she fell. “My phone!” she cried.
Before Bones could tell her to forget the phone, the creature on the island let out a low, guttural cry.
“It heard you. Look out!” They ducked. A moment later, one of the now-familiar stones flew through the air and smacked into a cypress tree.
“Sorry,” Slater whispered.
“Let’s get out of here. Stay low.”
Slater turned but before she could take a step another stone splashed into the water inches from her feet.
Bones drew his Glock. He didn’t want to do this, but he was not going to let them die here. He took aim as the creature reached back to throw again. If it forced his hand…
“Bones, wait!” Slater grabbed the barrel of the Glock and tried to force it down. “Look over there.” She nodded toward the hollowed-out tree.
Another creature emerged, this one clearly an older female. She held an infant to her breast. She grunted something that must have been language, because the young male dropped the stones he was holding and scurried away.
A few moments later, another creature appeared, this one an older male. He was huge—much broader and more muscular than the young male. The footprints they had found must have been his.
He reached the female’s side and put an arm around her. The intimacy…the humanness of the moment took Bones’ breath away. He holstered his pistol and rose to his feet. The two creatures met his gaze, and he thought he saw sadness and resignation there.
“Do you think there are any more?” Slater whispered.
“I don’t see any.” Bones was surprised to hear a catch in his voice. Was this the last, tiny remnant, of a primitive people who’d called this swamp home?
“Let’s just leave them alone.” Slater said. She took his hand, and they turned and retraced their steps out of the swamp.
Chapter 14
Logan was seated on the tailgate of Bones’ truck when they finally reached the dirt road. He was dressed in street clothes and carried no weapon that Bones could see. He and Bones exchanged a long, level stare. Finally, Logan broke the silence.
“How was your hike?”
“A complete waste of time. Nothing but mud out there.”
Logan folded his arms and looked up at the sky. “Did you happen to take any pictures or videos of all that nothing?”
Bones shook his head. “Not a thing.”
Logan nodded. “How about we quit dancing around each other and just tell the truth?”
“We found them,” Slater said, “but we’re not going to do anything about it. We don’t have any photos or video and we’re not going to tell anyone what we saw. As far as we’re concerned, the mystery ended when we found out that an unnamed local faked the tracks. That’s how the episode of our show is going to play out, anyway.”
“Thank you. I mean it.” He slid down off the tailgate, walked over, and shook hands with Bones and Slater.
“So, what’s the real story?” Bones asked.
“My family’s lived on this land for more than a hundred years, and we’ve known about the skunk apes pretty much the whole time. We’ve been protecting them, trying to keep people from finding out the real story. It wasn’t that hard until Sarasota really started to grow. We still don’t get too many folks coming into this neck of the woods, but it happens.”
“What’s the deal with the fake footprints?” Bones asked. “Seems like that would just draw the kind of attention you don’t want.”
“We’ve never made any footprints. Matter of fact, we try to wipe out all we find. That’s one of the reasons Jack wanders so far afield. The skunk apes range wide sometimes and we do our best to cover their tracks. The false feet and such, that’s stuff I had made in case anyone came snooping around.” He flashed them a grin. “If somebody got too close to the truth, I figured I’d tell them me and Jack had faked the whole thing.”
“We saw shoeprints leading toward their island,” Bones said. “Do you have any interaction with them?”
“Not really. We keep an eye out for them, take them food. Fruit and the like. But we keep our distance.”
“Did your family ever consider bringing in someone who could protect them?” Slater asked. “University researchers or a government agency?”
Logan barked a laugh. “Protect? Hell, no. They’d take them away for study. If they really were just a breed of ape that didn’t belong here, an exotic species of orangutan or something, that might be one thing, but primitive humans? There’s no way the government would pass up a chance to study their genetics and such. They wouldn’t leave them out here in the swamp where anyone and anything could get to them.”
Bones nodded thoughtfully and scratched his chin. He could think of all kinds of scenarios in which the so-called skunk apes would be in danger if their presence were made known. “You’re right. If word got out that they were here, the government would almost have
to take them into custody for their own protection. There are too many people who would want to get their hands on them: zoos, private corporations, government groups. Heck, if somebody was violently anti-evolution they might be tempted to come out here and erase the possible evidence.”
“I didn’t think of any of that,” Slater admitted.
“I’m a cynic. I always look on the dark side.”
Logan breathed a sigh. “I don’t think it’s going to matter for much longer. There’s only four of them left, and they’ve been breeding from the same family tree for a couple of generations. The young male had a mate, but a gator got ahold of her. I tried to get to her so I could help her, give her first aid, but they wouldn’t let me come close. She bled out.” He shook his head slowly, staring at the ground. “I don’t know if the baby is male or female. Even if it’s a girl and she lives long enough to bear children, it won’t matter in the long run. It’s almost over for them.”
“It’s not a breeding population,” Slater said. “I understand why you’re doing this, but it really seems like a missed opportunity to study a primitive human population.”
“We’ve got years of notes, pictures, and videos our family’s taken,” Logan said. “We aren’t scientists, but somebody will be able to make something of what we’ve learned when the time comes.”
“And when will that be?” Bones asked.
“Whenever the last one dies. Whether it’s me, Jack, or Jack’s children, the body will go to the Florida Museum of Natural History for study. They can take their DNA and stuff after that. Until then, I say let them be.”
Bones and Slater exchanged a long look.
“Agreed,” Bones said. “Sorry for trespassing. We just had to know the truth.”
“Don’t mention it. Sorry you and I got off on the wrong foot.”
They bade Logan goodbye and drove back to the hotel in reflective silence. It was a shame, in a way. Mystery solved, and he couldn’t tell anyone.