“Face your monster boldly, the whole world will cheer you on. Run from your monster fearfully, Heaven will cry over your pieces.”
― Jessiqua Wittman
~Twenty-seven ~
Gordon walked into the Sheriff’s office and removed his hat, nodding to Hoyd and Sheriff Walker, who ended his call to join them. At the table he thanked Gordon for calling the meeting, opening the floor to him. Gordon offered no preamble.
“The anthropologist is agitating it.” Hoyd muttered an expletive and rubbed his face and brow, dropping his head. The second hand from the clock on the stark white wall created the only sounds as the three sat in contemplative silence. The sheriff finally the sheriff broke the hush blanketing the conference room.
“Now what?” Raising his eyebrows Gordon shook his head. “Now we decide how to handle it.” Looking around the room he waited for Hoyd or Walker to respond. When neither did he toyed with the rim of his cowboy hat. “I think we have to decide what we want more, them gone, or more press coverage on Stryker, because that’s what’s going to follow if either one goes missing from up there. We’ll be swamped with media, protestors and hunters again. Both options have their own consequences.” Sheriff Walker directed a level gaze toward Gordon. “This towns been through a lot, but I don’t think moving the Anthropologist will change anything. It’s not her style to walk away from field expeditions. I did a little research on her. She could be harder to handle than the over-crowding and media. The press love her. She has a seriously loyal following. And then there’s the added problem of explaining why she’d need to leave. We don’t even know what’s up there. What would we say? Leave in case you go missing too? I don’t think that’ll work. Matilda knows the history as well as we do. She’s prepared to combat this, at least she thinks she is. No one’s seen the thing and lived to tell about it. That’s what she’s aiming for. A visual.”
Hoyd dropped his head. Both Gordon and Sheriff Walker caught the pain in his eyes. Clearing his throat Hoyd shifted in his seat and reached for his pipe.
“Well, at least one person has survived after seeing it.”
Walker leaned forward. “What?”
Hoyd tamped down the tobacco down into the bowl of his pipe, leaning back to light it. Between puffs he glanced up. “Well hell, Walker. The last thing I needed was more attention. After my mamma went missing I knew people would target me with questions, ask me for interviews…all of that happened too. If I’d come out with a confession about seeing the thing my life would’ve been over. You know that. Didn’t you ever wonder why I don’t go up there?”
“So you actually saw it?” Gordon rose to fill a Styrofoam cup with black coffee. He turned his back to Hoyd while he poured.
Hoyd nodded grimly when Gordon turned back to take his seat. “I saw it. That’s why Cold Cat appeared that day. It was trying to warn me the thing was approaching. I just left that part out a few years ago when I told my story.”
Walker stood and began to pace. “Alright. What are dealing with then? A monster, a monkey? What the hell is this thing?” Hoyd held his hand up, slowing Walker. “Hold on now, there’s a couple things we need to clarify first. By me not telling, nobody was any more in danger than they were to begin with. I want to make that clear. I didn’t keep this quiet at the expense of other townsfolk and monster hunters. We clear on that? Whoever wondered up there the past few years has known the place should be avoided.”
Gordon raised an eyebrow. “What can you tell us about it?” “I can tell you it’s huge. Not anywhere near our size. We’re talkin’ nine-eleven feet tall. If you don’t look it in the eyes you might have a chance, but I learned that from mamma, years ago. For some reason that provokes it. I made the mistake of looking it in the eye when I saw it, but the cat jumped between us, and it was distracted just long enough for me to get away.”
Gordon nodded. “That information is common among the native peoples.” Walker sat back down, trying to assimilate the sudden burst of information from Hoyd. “Alright. It’s large. What else can you tell us, besides the need to avoid eye contact?”
“No Walker,” Hoyd leaned in close. “You aint' pickin’ up what I'm puttin’ down. Looking this thing in the eyes is the key to how it responds- at least I think. It emits some sorta pull, drawing you toward it. I don’t know what it is, but I aint’ never told no one because I didn’t want people looking at me the way you two are right now.”
Gordon sipped his coffee and raised an eyebrow. “Pull?” Hoyd exhaled tobacco smoke. “I couldn’t explain it if I wanted to. But somethin’ changed the day I looked it in the eyes. I’ve wanted to be back in them woods ever since. Sometimes I wake up at night, fighting a craving to cross into the timber line, just go back to where I saw it. My rational mind knows I’d be walking into a death trap, and I fight it. Have for years. I don’t know if it’s something it does to people, or if I’m still in shock, or have some form of PTSD. But either way, I steer clear of them woods, and off that mountain. I fight the urge to go back every damn day. It’s almost like the things in my head.”
Walker turned to Gordon. “What do you make of that?”
Gordon slowly turned his Styrofoam cup in circles, in deep thought. “Hoyd, does this thing stand upright? Is it bi-pedal?” Hoyd nodded, his eyes grim with recollection. “It’s not what people think it is. And to tell you the truth, sometimes I can’t even really remember what it looked like. I remember those eyes though. Black. Predatory…”
Gordon leaned back in his chair. “Is it a meat eater?”
Hoyd lowered his pipe, lost in thought. “Without a doubt.” The three sat in silence, absorbing, and trying to formulate a reason for something dwelling in the dark of the mountain. Hoyd stood first, pulling on his jacket. “So what’s the plan?”
Walker stood with him, tilting his head. “Why’d you decide to tell us about this now, Hoyd?”
Dropping his head Hoyd swallowed the grief he felt rising in the back of his throat.
“I don’t rightly know. I felt compelled I ‘spose. The timing feels right.” Gordon and Sheriff Walker both accepted Hoyd’s response, sharing the moment with him. Both were aware not all things could be explained. As they stood together Deputy Barnes flew into the conference room without knocking and out of breath. He leaned forward catching his breath. “We have a problem- Randall Sterling’s on his way to Stryker.”
~*~ Skid and Blaze prepared for the evening, gassing up the generator and preparing their food ahead of sunset. Because Matilda was still asleep, they set aside a can of chicken soup for when she woke. Realizing she might wake after sunset Blaze prepared Jell-O and a sandwich, placing them in the fridge, knowing they couldn’t heat the soup after the sun went down if they were being pelted with rocks again, or shoved around as they’d been on previous nights. The soup would have to wait in that case.
Blaze caught Skid up on the events, waiting for a lecture or disapproving look. When neither came she fell quiet. Something hadn’t felt right about his response. Knowing her unease regarding his response would crouch in her brain until she had an answer they ate quietly. Blaze watched the sun sink behind Cold Cat Peak. Her stomach sank with it. Looking out the window toward the wintry landscape she clenched her fist beneath the table where she shared her meal with Skid. Although she was grateful he was with them, something felt off. He was avoiding eye contact, and measuring his responses to her questions. She stopped pondering about his unspoken words when she heard a slight thump. Matilda wondered into the dining room, pale as death. She coughed, leaning weakly over the counter as Skid left his seat to help her.
“You should be in bed, Matilda.”
She peered up at him from under puffy red eyes. “And you should be in hell, Skid. Get out of my research rig.”
Blaze carefully eased out of her chair, lying her napkin on the table, eyes wide as she stared out the window. “Hey guys, I think we have company.” Backing up from the dining area window she bumped into Skid. He steadied her by t
he shoulders, peering out the window above her head. Outside, a shadow moved through the trees in the waning light.
Skid swore under his breath and reached for his sidearm, indicating Blaze should do the same. A second shadow moved just inside the tree line and Blaze swallowed a solid lump forming in her throat. They hadn’t arrived as early the night before. Matilda pushed her hair from her face and retrieved her .45 from the table next to her bed, throwing on a sweatshirt and boots with her pajama pants while Blaze pulled the curtains and double checked the lock on the door. Standing in the center of the living room she felt her scalp tighten. Pain danced across the front of her teeth.
“Not now.” Hissing under breath she grabbed her medication bag and pulled out her anti-seizure medication, swallowing one dry until she located her water bottle. Draining the last of the water she watched from the end of the motor home as Matilda and Skid whispered fiercely to each other. Considerably taller than Matilda, Skid was slightly bent at the waist, pointing toward the window behind them. Blaze was hesitant to join them. Their argument felt private in spite of the current circumstances.
Panting from the mounting pain Blaze turned again as headlights lit up the interior of the RV. Not just headlights, but red and blue lights. Holding the side of her face she sank down into a chair, unable to concentrate on her surroundings as her own monster leapt from the closet, wreaking havoc on her ability to remain calm. Holding her face and rocking back and forth she barely heard the RV door open and shut.
She responded when the sheriff reached for Blaze’s hand, crouching before her. As the humming vibration in her head increased steadily, she could only see his lips moving, unable to focus on anything besides the pain dancing through her ear, teeth and jaw. Nearly passing out from the intensity Blaze gratefully accepted his hand as he led her toward her bed in the back of the RV. As she sat down she saw Gordon as well, the man who’d been on horseback. Holding her head she tried in vain to observe all that was happening around her. She felt the Sheriffs warm hand on her shoulder. She leaned her head forward, resting against him. Somewhere in her mind she knew she was crossing a social boundary and didn’t care. She’d never incurred an attack like the one assaulting her in the moment. Squeezing her eyes shut she tried to breathe as the strange humming increased. Bright lights danced behind her eyes when she briefly closed them, and she watched as Matilda appeared to argue with Gordon. Lifting her head slightly she tried to thank the sheriff. The words didn’t come. Instead the pain prevailed and she squeezed his arm in agony. Feeling the sleeve of her hoodie pushed up she pried her eyes open long enough to see the Sheriff register the indication of her medical tattoo. Nodding gravely he pulled her sleeve back down, soothed her, and waited with her until the pain ebbed. Instead of ebbing though the pain engulfed and overtook her. Darkness encroached on the perimeter of her periphery vision, and she gratefully slid into it, passing out.
~*~
As the monster quietly retreated back into its closet Blaze sat up, pulling herself together weakly. She knew she’d passed out but couldn’t put it into a time frame. She looked up to see the sheriff speaking with Skid, Matilda, and Gordon. Knowing she couldn’t have been out for long she carefully moved toward them. All four stopped talking as she approached. The Sheriff moved to her side, placing his arm around her waist.
“You should be resting. Thatwas one hell of an attack.” Hs voice was even and calm as he assisted her to the dining area table.
Blaze rubbed her head and looked up to Matilda after thanking him.
“What’s going on?”
No one spoke. Skid averted his eyes uncomfortably and Matilda cleared her throat, her voice shook with anger. “They want us to leave.”
Leaning back Blaze examined the faces of the men with them, all grave with concern.
“Why now?” Her voice sounded weak but she made direct eye contact, waiting for an answer. Gordon adjusted his hat. Turning to Blaze he nodded his head as if thinking before speaking. “We don’t know what we’ve got up here, but we know it’s bad. We don’t want you ladies getting hurt, or worse. We’d like you to leave the mountain.”
Blaze stood slowly, placing her hand on the table top to steady herself.
“Why now? You knew we were coming up here. What’s going on?”
Matilda crossed her arms over chest. “That’s what I’ve asked them. They aren’t saying.”
The men shifted uneasily. Skid seemed to have a bond with them pre-dating Blaze and Matilda’s.
Moving closer Blaze watched the Sheriff, studying his eyes. Kind and resolute, he gave nothing away.
“It feels like you men may know something.”
Matilda frowned at Blaze, arching her eyebrow.
“What?”
Not breaking eye contact with Gordon, Blaze nodded toward him. “He knows more than he’s saying.” Skid shuffled his feet and sighed. “Don’t we all?”
Turning toward Skid Blaze felt her gut clench. “Yes. And it needs to end. There’s something out there and we either all work together to eradicate it, or we scatter like rabbits. What’s it gonna be? Because we aren’t leaving without more of an explanation than “it’s dangerous.” We already know that.”
The room grew quiet and Gordon cleared his throat. “It’s not safe up here.” He eyed Blaze and Matilda from under the rim of his hat and shook his head. “You’re down with the flu and you have something else that seems concerning. We can’t just leave you ladies up here, alone.”
The sheriff’s deep voice rumbled from behind Blaze. “What if Skid and I stay with them tonight, until they’re back on their feet?”
Gordon shook his head. “I don’t like it but it’s better than leaving you two alone up here when you’re trying to recuperate. I’ll let Hoyd know. He’s worried too.”
Matilda leaned against the kitchen counter. “Where is Hoyd? I’m surprised he didn’t come up with you.”
Gordon turned to leave, pausing.
“Hoyd doesn’t come up here.”
He exchanged looks with the Sheriff and exited the RV, disappearing into the night.
Blaze turned to the sheriff. “What does that mean?”
Walker met her steady gaze. “He lost his mom to these woods, and almost lost his own life. He doesn’t ever come up here. Like Gordon said.” “Perhaps you should speak more softly to me, then. Monsters are dangerous beasts, and just now kings seem to be dying like flies.”
― George R.R. Martin
~Twenty-eight ~
Sheriff Walker joined Gordon , walking him to his rig. The night was cold, colder than Walker remembered it being on the mountain for a long time. They could see their breath hover and dissipate as they spoke quietly in the dark, watching the landscape surrounding them with a new alertness.
Opening his truck door Gordon placed his hat on the passenger seat, leaning against the door. He’d pulled his sheepskin collar up on his old buckskin to ward off the chill.
“All we know is that Randall’s coming? No idea how he’ll show up? The man needs his ass kicked. Every time things get tense around here he winds up in the middle of it.”
Nodding, Walker kicked at the dirt. “I expect he’ll make a grand entrance. Be alert. Whatever happens he seems to have a personal interest in this thing. Always has.” Both men recalled Randall’s efforts with the search and rescue for Edith. Walker remembered his news interview, posing as grief stricken employer who’d lost a team member. Somehow, though, in his grief, he’d managed to spell his name correctly for the young lady who held the mic. Walker himself had been much younger during that event, but still remembered the angst that had fallen upon the small town he’d been raised in following Edith’s disappearance.
Chewing his lip Walker watched the trees. It was quiet on the peak. Not even a branch stirred in the late October grip. Gordon slapped Walker on the shoulder. “I’ll come around in the morning to check in on you all.”
As his head lights faded Walker wondered about his own sanity. Alt
hough armed, he was standing in the Kill Zone. Every child in Stryker knew to avoid the point of no return, and could show anyone on a map where it was. It had become a dark part of their culture. A hush settled over the peak as Gordon’s truck moved off into the distance. With a deep breathe Walker steeled himself for a sleepless night among people he barely knew, fighting off something no one had seen; except those who never returned.
Opening the door he stepped inadvertently into the middle of an argument in the living room area of the research vehicle. Matilda was yelling, tossing books at Skid, who deflected them. Skid raised his eyebrows at Walker as he passed. Walker shook his head and moved out of the way. “Good luck with that brother.”
Skid raised his hands in defeat, speaking to Matilda. “I thought you wanted us to be quiet?” Matilda took a deep breath, exhaling through her flared nostrils as she pointed to an empty chair near her desk. Skid sat, cautiously. Pouring himself a cup of coffee Walker watched from the corner of his eyes while the argument settled into something akin to a slow simmer, with Matilda still fiercely reacting to something unknown. He noticed Blaze had retreated to her bed, pressing her hands to her ears. Walker took moment to absorb the chaos and checked the only door, locking it. When he turned again Matilda’s voice had risen an octave. Walker had had enough.
“What the hell is going on in here?” His gravelly voice caught Matilda by surprise and she turned toward him, book in hand.
“Skid here just confessed that he went through my paperwork, and is worried about the location of the RV. He went through my private paperwork!” Skid rolled his eyes. “You purposely planted yourself here- which I knew, but easily confirmed while you were asleep. What were you thinking? You brought a rookie up here, knowing the situation Matilda.”
Matilda’s face was red with indignation. Narrowing her eyes she raised a finger. “Just because we shared one night in the field together and you saved my ass doesn’t mean you’re meant to look after me like a big brother. Yes I caught my foot in a trap, and yes I was lucky you came along to help me. But the thing is Skid, looking back, I doubt that was an accident. You were following me, admit it!”
Cold Cat Mountain: The Peak (Cold Cat Mountain Trilogy Book 1) Page 17