Blaze prodded. “Do you believe in the hybrid theory?” Matilda pursed her lips. “I didn’t. Now I simply don’t want to because it’s Skid’s theory, but I must admit, I’m at a loss with this particular creature. It’s forced the old stereotype from my mind, one I didn’t truly appreciate anyway, but this would certainly explain why the species seems capable of maintaining distance. It could have developed a sense or instinct warning it of our approach.”
“I wouldn’t underestimate it. Whatever it is, Matilda. I may not be ready to grab a torch and hunt it down, but I’m ready to admit I’m out of my depth, and I am ready to agree it is indeed a predator.”
Matilda took in Blaze’s statement. She too felt a certain relief in being snowed in while they assessed the situation, although Matilda and Blaze both knew it was an early snow, and would likely melt off quickly.
“Well,” Matilda stood up. “Here’s to stronger and more patient communications.”
They clinked their coffee mugs together, drained the contents, and prepared to shovel snow off the roof of the RV.
“I would rather live than die. I would rather die than survive as a monster.” ― Robert Fanney
~Twenty-four ~
Blaze and Matilda stood on the roof of the RV shoveling snow with their side arms on. It was a new experience for Blaze, who thought she’d topped the charts in weird experiences while in Social Work.
Cryptozoology had taken the lead.
Blaze stopped to catch her breath.
“So, seriously. The Yeti and Sasquatch aren’t considered to be the same thing?” Matilda shook her head and pushed another row of snow over the back edge of the roof. Her cheeks were bright pink and snowflakes stuck to her eyelashes. Blaze bit back a sarcastic comment about her natural beauty and instead interrogated her while Matilda was still in the mood to talk.
“Really? Why not?”
Matilda stopped and caught her breath, standing with her hand on her hip. “Because! Didn’t you read any of the books I gave you at the office back home?”
Blaze pooched out her lips and shook her head. “Oh good grief Blaze! What’d you think was going to happen out here? A giant slumber party?”
Blaze exhaled and watched her breath dissipate into the cold air. “I thought we’d find nothing and we’d go home and start over. Come on Matilda, you knew I wasn’t buying it.”
Matilda resumed shoveling, motioning for Blaze to pick it up again at her end. Laughing for the first time in days Blaze shoved her curls out of her face. Her breathe appeared in small white puffs as she spoke.
“You’ve gotta admit, I’ve been taking in a lot of information for a newbie. And you’re not exactly patient.” She pointed toward Cold Cat Peak, as it reached up toward the slate sky behind them. “I heard something howling from up there last night while I stood by a bon fire waiting to be eaten. That’s kind of a big deal for a gal from Portland.”
Matilda shook her head, smiling. “Well, maybe you didn’t believe.” she turned partially toward Blaze, eyeing her from the corner of her eyes, wriggling her eyebrows. “But I bet you do now.”
When the roof had been adequately shoveled they returned inside, settling down with sandwiches as Matilda unrolled a large map across the dining room table. They used coffee mugs to secure the corners as they leaned over it.
Matilda smoothed her hand over the worn map, almost reverently as she pointed to the red circles she’d use as indicators.
“These are the areas where people have gone missing over the last thirty years.” Blaze leaned in, studying. The red circles weren’t in any particular pattern. They had Cold Cat Peak in common however. Matilda had drawn a black dotted line across the point of no return just below the peak. They were just inside the zone. Blaze had known they would be when they’d prepared to leave Portland. Now it felt different. More dire. And, she certainly hadn’t expected to be in the hub of activity.
“So, what are the yellow circles then?” Blaze pointed toward the map. There were several, and she did a quick count, rounding up to about twenty.
“Those are where children have disappeared over the last hundred years. The green are where adults went missing over the last century.” “What?” Blaze looked up, feeling the color drain from her face. “That’s a lot of people Matilda.” Her voice was barely a whisper as she ran her fingers over the yellow circles.
“Children?” She looked up, frowning. “Were they found?”
Matilda shook her head, eyes somber. “No. Not all of them.”
Blaze dropped her hand. The familiar clawing stirred at the back of her head. Wincing, she noticed Matilda’s look and she reached for the small black clutch that contained her medicine. Matilda waited, familiar with Blaze’s reaction to anything which aggravated her PTSD. Blaze chased her pill with juice, taking a deep breath.
“Okay. Let’s go on. It’ll take a few minutes for this to kick in. Until then we can talk about the adults.”
Shrugging in agreement Matilda pointed to the green circles. “I’m assuming that none of the adults came back?”
Matilda shook her head. “Which means that you and I have to tighten up our strategy Blaze. Skeptical or not, something is out there. People are going missing. As recent as about eight months ago. We have to decide if we are going to stay, or if it’s time to leave.” She glanced up to Blaze, tucking her hair behind her ear. “We are right in its path. Across the point of no return. It will get worse. This thing appears to be very intelligent. I think I underestimated its intellectual abilities.”
Blaze’s gaze was drawn back to the small yellow circles. The thought of children being dragged off by anything, human or not, caused her skin to prickle with heat. She pointed to the dates the first disappearances began.
“1915? Matilda, is this thing really a hundred years old? Has it managed to defy age as a self-defense mechanism too?"
Matilda pressed the palms of her hands together, resting her chin on the tips of her fingers. She moved her head sideways, squinting in thought. “I don’t think so. I’m also not trying to be coy. I don’t think it’s safe to assume anything about it. I think there may be more than one, which I have said, but I don’t yet know. I assume there is a lot we cannot know about this cryptid so early on.”
“And are we still referring to this as Sasquatch?” “Plural, possibly.” Matilda’s dry tone was overdone. Leaning back Blaze squeezed the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes. “Like ones not enough? Why not hunt twelve?”
Matilda raised her eyebrows. “It is a possibility Blaze. I know entertaining the notion is stressful, but facts are facts. If this Sasquatch is living for long periods of time, alright. But aside from that, with disappearances occurring throughout the past century we are forced to hypothesize also we may have multiple Sasquatch on this mountain. Roaming this very peak.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.” Blaze dropped her head in her palms. “Matilda!”
Matilda raised her hand to calm Blaze down. “Wait, I don’t know that for sure. It is a theory. I could be wrong Blaze.”
Shaking her head Blaze closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She heard Matilda giggle and she looked up.
Matilda widened her eyes innocently. “What? You don’t believe in them anyway, remember?”
Blaze raised her eyes above the line of her fingers, the rest of her face hidden behind her hands as she studied the yellow circles.
“How many children out of the approximate twenty were recovered?”
Matilda opened her juice box. “Seven.”
“Thirteen? Thirteen children were not recovered?” Matilda allowed Blaze to be alone with her thoughts as they sat together. Both watched the snow fall quietly beyond the windows, creating a landscape of white beyond their dining room window. After several moments of silence Matilda tuned back and shrugged. “Well, the snow will make it easier to track it or them, whichever the case may be.”
Blaze rubbed her neck. “So you’ve said.” Dropping her head back she s
ighed.
“So basically the only reason we haven’t been on the menu yet is because what? We’re together? It knows we carry firearms?”
“Maybe both.” Matilda’s voice was raspy. She cleared it and waited.
“But what about Skid? He’s alone. Isn’t that risky?”
“Yup.” Matilda polished off her juice and set down the empty box. “And it’s stupid.” Cryptozoology enthusiasts were unpredictable. Blaze had been coming to terms with that. But, why was someone like Skid wondering around Cold Cat alone? He knew the risks. It made no sense in the situation they all were facing. She wondered if Matilda would balk if she mentioned going to check on him.
“Okay Matilda. One more question before we decide if we stay up here. Why did most of the children’s disappearances cease after 1960?”
Matilda leaned forward and pointed out a road on the map. “See here?” Blaze leaned in. A back road connected to a small two lane interstate. “They built a road leading directly through town instead of up and around it. When they changed the route the disappearances dropped dramatically. In fact, I don’t believe any children were taken once the new road changes were in place.” Blaze looked up and frowned. Thinking back, she remembered the old black and white photos of her own family from that era. Their cars were much slower. Blaze recalled her grandmother telling her how they used to pack lunches and park alongside the small country roads for a break from the drive. McDonalds had not been an option at that time. Blaze imagined children running on grassy slopes along the old roadside, their parents looking on. All it would have taken was one preoccupied adult and a curious child for a little one to disappear. One child curious enough to step into the trees, and not come back.
Blaze felt her heart quicken. “We’re staying. I can’t walk away when it’s preying on children Matilda. Even if the number of abductions has dropped with children it’s still a possibility. ”
Matilda nodded somberly, refolding the map. “And we should probably check in on Skid, too.”
Blaze looked up. “How did you know I was thinking of asking that?”
“Because I’ve been thinking it too.”
Blaze fidgeted with a marker and looked up. “What’s the back story on the children they recovered?”
Matilda stood and moved toward the desk, tucking the map away, out of sight, and stood in front of the faux fire place, warming herself. “They were found in strange locations. All of them, and they were found in areas too far for them to have traveled on their own by foot. Almost all of them were in shock, and none of them remembered the reason for being left up on ledges, or in ravines miles from where they abducted. Another strange detail was they were all missing their shoes. Some of them had only one on. But most of them had no shoes on at all, even though they were still wearing the coats, hats and clothing they’d been taken in.”
“Who else knows all of this?” Blaze asked. Her eyes suddenly sharp with questions.
Matilda spread her arms wide. “Anyone could know. It was just basic research of public records.”
Blaze shook her head, trying to imagine the pain the parents of those children must have been subjected to. Matilda called her name and she turned, leaning back in her chair.
“Yes?”
As always, when Matilda was thinking, her eyes were narrowed. She looked up almost apologetically. “This is unlike any field work I’ve ever done before Blaze. I’ve told you that. But be ready, alright? For the unexpected. Without fail it always seems that some sort of chaos follows a major discovery. I have no idea how far we’ll get with this. For some reason I feel a sense of urgency. It’s uncomfortable. If things begin to progress unexpectedly keep your wits about you. Alright?”
~*~
By nightfall Blaze and Matilda were as prepared as either knew how to be. As Blaze watched Matilda methodically move through their preparation tasks she began to feel the weight of her own inexperience, and the obvious fluttered through her brain as well, though she tried diligently to dismiss her concerns. Although, no matter how hard she tried she continued to circle back to the fact that they were two females in the woods, co-existing with a possible man eating creature. Possibly more than one even, which were not odds Blaze enjoyed entertaining. She knew there’d been men who had shied away from this very situation. Matilda had invited another researcher and he’d declined. It wasn’t a debate about which gender could better handle the current situation. It was clear in Blaze’s rational mind that she and Matilda would respond with logic no matter how intense their situation became. And she knew the malevolent force they were facing didn’t discriminate between male and female. It had proven itself eager enough to abduct all genders equally. Earlier as they had prepared she’d checked and re-checked every window lock as day faded to evening. The locks seemed tiny and inconsequential when the metal of the RV itself was barley thick enough to handle the impact from another vehicle. And, because there’d been too much snow fall for them to build up the bon fire again, they turned the lights down low, carefully avoiding the windows again. Somehow that human reaction was instinctive. Blaze allowed her eyes to rove the interior of the RV and suddenly longed for an army tank. The RV now looked incapable of withstanding an outright attack. She swallowed a semi-hysterical giggle, remembering their earlier conversation when they’d both agreed they’d venture out the following day to check in on Skid. That conversation felt very distant as her anxiety mounted. First they had to survive the night.
An hour after sun down what Matilda had referred to as tree knocking began. The noise reverberating around all sides of the RV, and without a pattern it sounded random to Blaze’s untrained ears. Matilda quietly assured her it wasn’t. Both women remained still, sitting near the darkened fire place, facing the door of the motor home while Matilda diligently recorded the events in her leather binder and Blaze aimed her handgun toward the flimsy entrance.
And then, just as suddenly as the tree knocking had begun, it stopped. Several hours passed in silence. Matilda felt herself beginning to fade, her arm and wrist aching from the tension of holding up her weapon. Exhausted, she finally laid the gun down next to her on the floor near her thigh, periodically rubbing her eyes to keep them open. Matilda was thoroughgoing, straight backed, alert. She continued to record times and lengths of each separate incident, eyes wide and attentive. Blaze felt her head roll backwards. Whipping herself upright to avoid the sweet lure of sleep she felt a shot of adrenaline startle her awake following a high pitched scream; a scream that sounded like a combination between a woman’s and a warrior riding in to battle. Blaze leveled her gun toward the door, hands shaking. Following Matilda’s prompt they remained motionless. Blaze attempted to regulate her dysregulated breathing, squeezing the butt of the gun she now held in both shaking hands. The RV pitched and rocked to one side from the impact of something large. Blaze, who’d been balancing herself on her knees fell forward, bracing herself against one of the large chairs in the center of the living room. Looking as if she had half expected it, Matilda maintained a firm hold on the fire place mantle, pressing her finger to her lips as a warning for Blaze not to speak. Closing her eyes to calm herself a moment, Blaze reminded herself the aggressor could easily be a grizzly, or maybe a curious moose pushing against the motor home.
“Monsters aren’t real,” she whispered quietly to herself. Opening her eyes again she felt calmer, and fairly certain she’d lost contact with the logical side of her brain. For her, their field research was turning into a struggle between fantasy and reality, especially when she was being paid to believe in the fantasy version. Blaze returned to her earlier position, pushing her unruly hair out of her face, breathing deeply, and repeating her “Monsters aren’t real” mantra while they continued to wait. Minutes ticked by, and it began to feel like hours. Outside as the snow fell, Blaze was alerted once again to a predator as the approach of heavy feet just under the window outside the dining area pulled their attention away from the door. Matilda’s eyes moved toward the
direction of the footsteps as she listened intently. Slowly, gently, and barely breathing, Blaze repositioned herself, aiming her small caliber in the direction of the sound. She couldn’t stop herself from wondering if Matilda had factored a gun fight and ritual carcass drag back to Stryker as part of her research plan. As panic tried to push reason aside she made a mental note to ask Matilda about tranquilizers, enough for an elephant. Waiting, with her hands still shaking, Blaze felt a tug deep within her chest. A compelling pull she initially resisted. An irrational compulsion to peer through the dining room window. Her irrational need grew stronger as she argued against herself with logic. Stronger still though was her own self-defense system, and the desire to stay alive. As she resisted the need to look outside, she also knew if the entity at any point decided to force its way into the motor home they’d be left with only one alternative; shoot to kill. Another thump outside the lower portion of the window created a different reaction than she’d expected from herself. Anger. Her eyes shot toward Matilda for a sense of direction. Matilda shook her head, indicating they should remain still. Several more lengthy minutes passed as they crouched on the floor in the relative quiet of the night. Blaze forced herself to breathe deeply, resting her face against the back of the chair. She was exhausted. The monster hunting was taking its toll on her, especially when the monsters didn’t wait to be hunted, but turned the tables and stalked them instead.
Matilda was next to jump when a rock struck the side of the RV, just outside and to the right of the front door. A second rock followed immediately after, striking the front of the vehicle. As the generator continued to hum Blaze prayed the creature wouldn’t tamper with it. Somehow she needed the sound of it to balance the world around her; she derived a peculiar comfort from its mechanical existence as she hid inside an RV on a dark mountain.
Cold Cat Mountain: The Peak (Cold Cat Mountain Trilogy Book 1) Page 15