The Summit had allowed the legend to turn soft on purpose. Sasquatch had been thought to be elusive, and it was. The Summit had intervened when they could. They spun the news into a manageable angle, allowing the missing to be considered a victim of the wilds; taken by bears, wolves, or perhaps mountain lions. They had even promoted the notion that victims were lost in crevices, or perhaps rivers where rapids swallowed fatigued swimmers.
The new knowledge, however, was numbing. Matilda had been aware it was not an anomaly. She had known all along what these creatures were capable of. Aside from the aggressive actions of the Cryptid on Cold Cat, no one had witnessed this kind of behavior. While Blaze absorbed the information amidst her own criticism, Matilda had passed Go on the Monopoly board and remained somewhat guarded with own her theories.
Blaze knew in the moment however there was something she had known, or at least strongly suspected. There were two species of Sasquatch.
One was Sasquatch. The other was called Croatoan. Dark Sasquatch. Blaze let that knowledge seep in, recalling their journey that first night as they made their way up the mountain. Matilda had asked her to not make any other unscheduled stops in the dark. She’d said she had a theory that placed Sasquatch even further into the realm of impossibilities for Blaze; a theory that the Cryptid they were searching for might, in fact, have sociopathic tendencies. Blaze had entertained far too many human monsters to indulge a notion supporting anything beyond her normal paradigm. Such options lacked logic. She worked steadily to dismiss the images, and the blaring questions that followed.
Matilda had known the monsters were real, and had relied upon Blaze’s skepticism as a counter measure. She was a brilliant anthropologist who had made discoveries Blaze could not discount. Yet, Blaze had entered the research willing to dismiss obvious information and signs. Knowledge which had just been reinforced by Cindy and Ren.
Monsters were real. Sasquatch was elusive. The Croatoan were not. Dark Sasquatch were hungry, affected in a dark psychological way. A way that no one previously imagined human-hybrids could be. They had developed an appetite for anything they considered beneath them on the food chain. They were capable of intelligent thought just as their Sasquatch counter parts were, and yet they had an advanced form of aggression which had been erased from history on purpose.
Blaze felt her heart skip a beat. If anyone should have been taken and retained Matilda's information it should have been her. She rubbed her forehead in frustration. How had she ignored Matilda so flagrantly, even when they were both being faced with such obvious evidence on the mountain? And how had she allowed her denial to shield her from the secrets Matilda had managed to keep? She had maintained a diligent level of secrecy Blaze hadn't identified in whole.
Cindy had just shared it all. Secrets that would have placed many people in the path of harm. Matilda had done just that to herself and Blaze. Purposefully. Blaze let that knowledge stir the anger crouching behind her grief. People were dead and missing because of Matilda's selfish pursuit of evidence.
Evidence. Blaze rubbed her forehead again. Obsessive searching had skewed Matilda’s perspective. Whereas she had been willing at one time to only place herself in danger for the knowledge she sought, something had changed. Matilda had concealed some critical reason for becoming so aggressive in her research on Cold Cat Mountain.
No one spoke as the clock on the mantle ticked silently as a reminder they did not have the luxury of time. Ren swirled his cold coffee, contemplating thoughts of his own as Cindy quietly worked on her tablet. Blaze felt the seconds tick by acutely. Just as she felt the need to process the information shared with her and Walker in a quiet place, she also felt compelled to jump up and rush back into the mountains.
Walker stood up. The room’s atmosphere changed somehow when he did. He shifted his weight to his other foot and leaned thoughtfully against the old government-issue file cabinet.
Slowly, he withdrew a notepad and clicked open his pen.
“Cindy, I’d like to try and repeat back to you what I just heard. Correct me as I go, would you?”
Cindy graciously set aside her tablet and crossed her legs, smiling politely.
“Of course.”
Walker rubbed the side of his nose with his thumb. “Alright.” His voice was strained. “This…cryptid…. You said it has been concealing itself for a very long time. Did I understand you correctly when you said this was not an isolated incident on Cold Cat?”
Cindy nodded. Sipping his coffee Ren flexed his jaw, working it back and forth. “So there are other towns that are dealing with this?”
Tilting her head Cindy nodded briefly. “Not to this extent. But yes. Ren could actually speak to that better.”
Walker shifted his dark eyes to Ren. Draining the last of the liquid in his cup Ren checked the time on his watch before answering. It was a fluid motion, barely detectable, but it echoed the same desire Blaze had felt seconds earlier, a desire to aid the missing in a timely manner.
“Yes. We have been having this problem in other areas throughout North America. Asia too. This particular Cryptid has begun pushing back for a number of years. What’s a little different here in Stryker is this creature’s lack of elusiveness. Also, it is outright stalking and showing intelligent aggression.” Blaze thought of the whisper that had proceeded her finding Matilda's boot in the small clearing, and the game of cat and mouse that had been initiated. “Although, we’re beginning to see evidence of this behavior in other areas, it’s nowhere near this blatant.”
Walker wrote a few notes and flipped to a new page. Blaze, however, remained silent, staring out at nothing.
“So your agency holds and tracks information that’s been known about these creatures for centuries?” Ren took a deep breath and nodded, gravely bowing his head. “We do. Ever heard of a town called Roanoke, Virginia? It is one example of why we were brought into being- out of dark and dire times our agency came together to monitor the Dark Sasquatch.”
Blaze lifted her head. The name of the town stirred something familiar. Something she knew she wouldn't want to hear. Turning to fully face Ren, Walker lowered his voice. “What about it?” Ren cleared his throat and furrowed his brow, as if the telling of the story bothered him deeply.
“In 1585, the first English settlement was established in the New World.” Ren stood to refill their mugs. He dropped cubes of sugar into the fresh coffee, handing one to Walker before pouring his own.
In the silence, Blaze tried to anticipate what she might hear, and was tempted to press her palms over her ears.
Ren continued, easing down onto the edge of a wooden chair. “A man named Sir Walter Raleigh founded Roanoke with ninety men, seventeen women and nine children.” He took a sip of the coffee, pausing. “This was a full twenty-two years before Jamestown was established, and thirty-seven years before the pilgrims ever landed in Massachusetts.”
Walker slowly took a seat just in front of the large window with his back to the looming peak. “They didn’t fare well, and mostly history has forgotten them. Most of their supplies were lost due to damages the ship incurred on its voyage, including their food sources. John White eventually left the colony under protest to gather and return with more supplies from England. Unfortunately, the Spanish War created a fatal delay in his return. It was three years before he finally arrived back at the New World. When he did, he discovered the settlement of Roanoke and all of its people had vanished. They left no trace of their existence. Nothing. Except for hastily carved words on a wooden fence that read Croatoan. On a nearby tree, three letters had been carved that read Cro.”
Ren leaned back and crossed his legs. “That was the beginning. Many theories have been offered to the public to sedate the alarmists over the centuries. Doesn’t matter. Our agency was established to acquire and learn; to protect and buffer the public from the truth. The colonies would never have been founded if pilgrims had been afraid to make the journey to a New World where a Cryptid group took them out u
pon arrival.”
Walker took a long drink of the hot brew. Pinching the bridge of his nose he stood a moment in deep thought.
Blaze turned toward Ren and Cindy.
“Did Matilda know, about that?”
When neither answered, Blaze shook her head.
No longer able to remain seated, she strode with a nervous energy. “So these things have been hidden from us for our own protection?” The sarcasm in her voice was harsh. “Because it sounds to me like you’re all protecting yourselves and your own interests. I know something about the lost colony, and I know as a logical person that one missing colony could be attributed to anything. It doesn't spell ‘Cryptid’. It spells the word ‘grasping’.”
Turning, she rubbed her forehead and stood up next to Walker. “Those colonists could have gone missing because of the bad blood between them and the Secotan tribe just as easily. Drought has been another theory. Anthropologists have not found any evidence of remains. None. The Croatan tribe could have also been responsible for the disappearances. They were friendly with the settlers but a lot can happen in the three years it took White to return. Maybe the Croatans turned on the colony.”
Ren nodded. “You’re right about all of the generic information, Blaze.”
Blaze swiftly turned from her pacing. “What?”
Ren shrugged. “There is a lot more out there, beyond what Wikipedia shares.”
Frowning, Blaze crossed her arms. “What does that mean?” Ren narrowed his eyes, fatigued by the situation. “It means the word itself has a history that has not been fully explained. It means others have used the word Croatoan and then disappeared. A few days before his death, following a disappearance that to this day cannot be explained, Edgar Allen Poe was brought to his deathbed, uttering the word Croatoan. The word has been found in other places related to mysterious deaths and disappearances. It was written on the last pages of the log book found on the ship Carroll A. Deering in 1921. It ran aground and was discovered with no bodies on board, not far from the island once called Croatoan Island.”
Blaze turned to Walker, extending her arms incredulously. “Are you hearing this?”
Nodding, Walker looked down toward the floor, lost in thought.
Ren stood. “Blaze, its fact. All of it. Have you ever heard of a place called Death Bed Ridge?”
Blaze turned, feeling her blood chill. “What do you know about that place?”
“I know Matilda investigated it, and so do you. Let’s stop pretending. Most of her information has been available to us. It’s our job. She told you about it?”
Blaze refused to speak, eyeing Ren suspiciously. He shrugged. “It doesn't matter, we knew she went, and we know she had an encounter. The thing that caused the death of the man for which the ridge was named is the same thing Edgar Allen Poe saw prior to his death. Neither recovered from what they saw.”
Squeezing her eyes shut, Blaze exhaled slowly. “So you're telling me that the creature out there is the Croatoan? The Dark Sasquatch?” Cindy leaned forward. “This Cryptid is very similar. The Croatan tribe referred to the Croatoan as a spirit. One not to be interfered with or approached. Territorial. And…a cannibal.” The last words of her sentence were whispered.
Blaze steepled her fingers, pointing them toward Cindy. “What did you just say?”
Cindy pressed her palm to her lips briefly. “I'm so sorry, Blaze.”
Walker stood slowly, standing behind her. His voice was deep and intense. “Sorry for what?”
Cindy turned her back to them, putting space between them as she tried to collect herself. Blaze felt Walker’s hand tighten on her shoulder. Pushing at it, she surged toward Cindy, but was stopped by both Walker and Ren. “What do you mean you're sorry?” Her voice was almost hoarse as she screamed, straining against the men blocking her.
Cindy left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her as Blaze screamed for her, pushing the men away. “She's sorry?” Pointing her arm toward the mountain, she glared at Ren. “They are out there. I watched both Hoyd and Skid be killed by those things, but I know Shelby and Matilda had a chance.”
Ren's face softened. “And you may very well be right. The Croatoan may be wreaking havoc here in Stryker, but this is an unusual set of circumstances. The people we are trying to assist aren't your typical victims. You have every right to believe Matilda and Shelby can be rescued.” Ren indicated with his hand for Walker and Blaze to sit.
“Its large, our network. But the bottom line is a public panic would disrupt people’s core values. The Puritans had no room in their lives for monsters. They could not tolerate the truth, even if they were told it. You all recall our countries history. Panic flared during the witch trials, which were actually hunts. Innocent people were burned alive and drowned.”
Raising his hand Ren shook his hand. “Before you even ask me Blaze, no, our agency doesn't handle that genre of the unknown. We'd spread ourselves too thin and witches freak me out anyway. I was raised in church.”
Blaze raked a hand through her tangled hair. “You mean the puritans knowledge of the Dark Sasquatch would have disrupted the financial stratosphere?” She turned slowly, eyes locking with Ren’s. “It's fact. Look at your clothing. Your vehicle. Wealthy people protect their wealth. If revealing monsters is a perceived threat to your bottom line, then the monsters will be shrouded.”
Ren tilted his head, smiling crookedly.
Blaze shuddered. “I worked in social services. If a parent was a predator and had enough money and clout, the crime was covered up for the sake of financial gain.”
“You have discernment,” Cindy's soft voice caught them off guard as she reentered the room.
Walker lifted his head, frowning. “What?”
“A discerner can pin-point a predator quickly. It’s hard-wired in her genetic makeup.” Cindy's voice was tinged with fascination.
“What do you mean?” Blaze now turned toward Cindy. “What I mean Blaze, is you do not need close proximity or established personal relationships to identify a predator. It’s very rare, actually. It's a genetic trait, but it's so rare nowadays we don't have the opportunity to study it. Matilda must have spotted it in you, somehow.” Raising her hands she shrugged, as if stunned Matilda was able to identify Blaze’s ability.
“It’s remarkable. You are essentially a human lie detector; you don’t read body language or study speech patterns. For you it just happens. The problem with that is predators can easily recognize you as well, and perceive you as a threat to their agenda.”
Blaze paused, gently turning the past over in her mind, remembering similar incidents where predators had responded almost violently to her presence, and she to theirs.
Ren shook his head. “Well, well. That’s a game changer Blaze. We have a lot of work to do before we go back out there to retrieve Shelby, and hopefully Matilda. Your presence on the peak could compromise everyone’s safety on our recovery mission.” Ren cleared his throat as he spoke.
“Going up there with us will draw the Croatoan in and put you at significant risk. But if Cindy is right, and she usually is about this stuff, we can use your presence to draw them out, sedate them and eliminate them.”
Blaze raised an eyebrow. “You want me as bait?”
Walker shrugged. “Well, at least they're telling you. Matilda didn't.” Ren stood.
“We know you’ve taken a lot in today, both of you. But we have a mission and need you both on board before we can proceed.
Money or not, conspiracy or not, we need to get those folks back if we can, and reestablish authority over these things. If we don’t, the balance will tip. Trust me when I say you don’t want that. The money people are self-serving, but the Cryptids are too. These things are highly intelligent. More so than the casual Bigfoot lover has been led to believe.”
Walker moved toward Blaze and placed a protective hand on her shoulder. “So you want Blaze and I to join a recovery mission. Why tell us all of this? Aren’t you worried?”
/>
Cindy shook her head. “No. We need you, because we need Blaze.”
Blaze looked up, frowning. “You just said I could compromise the mission.” Cindy stood, moving toward the door. “Ren and I are trained in reading body language. It's apparent you might not proceed without him. We need you, so we have factored him into the equation and evaluated the risks.”
Walker winced. “Just call me afterthought.”
“Poor sleepers should endeavor to compose themselves. Tampering with empty space, stirring up echoes in pitch-black pits of darkness is scarcely sedative.” Walter de la Mare
~Nine~
Randall stood staring at the odd woman as she tapped just ahead of him in her blue pant suit. The crowd within the airport swarmed around her, past her, and frequently stopped to gape at her. She was such a spectacle as she tapped and hopped toward him that many took random pictures of her. Moaning to himself, Randall slowly approached and waited.
“Randall,” Judy Padna bellered, “hurry up, buttercup! We have a show to get to!”
Stiffening, Randall shook his head. “I do not have that item on my agenda.” Rushing forward, she tugged at his arm. “You do now. We are so, so fortunate that a spot opened on a local talk show just this morning. YoHan wants us to take advantage of the opportunity to talk Sasquatch.”
Randall made a mental note to somehow exact revenge on YoHan. He pulled his arm free of Judy, straightening the pressed fabric of his rain coat fastidiously. She laughed and grabbed back at his arm. “Oh, don’t be so uptight you pooh-pooh head.”
Looking down over the top of her bobbing head, Randall wondered if he might have time to sedate her prior to the show. Judy Padna, the world’s leading DNA analyst, was beyond horrid. Randall had been able to avoid any and all encounters with her since she’d been discovered by the Summit seven years earlier. While they all had preferred to lock her in the lab away from the public’s view, she was currently the only Summit member who could speak knowledgeably on the subject of Hybrid DNA. Randall sniffed and tried to extract his arm.
Wolf Canyon: Cold Cat Mountain Book II (Cold Cat Mountain Trilogy 2) Page 4