WHERE LEGENDS ROAM

by Lee Murphy

  He saw her do a woman once. A meter maid in Seattle who ticketed Norm's wagon. When Norm came out of the store, old Ruthie had her tied up and gagged in the back of the wagon. They drove her out to his place in the woods and used her very, very badly for a week. Of course, Ruth added the meter maid's scalp to her collection. He was hoping that 'holier-than-thou' Women's Libber Cyrena would be next. He was looking forward to that, and in some ways he felt more bitter that it wasn't going to happen. But he was still alive, as was Cyrena. Cy-re-na. It almost sounded like siren. Norm almost chuckled as he wondered if she squealed like a siren. If he could get Kodiak out of the way, she'd be his for the taking. Then he'd make her squeal. Maybe as a tribute to Ruth-less he'd take Cyrena's scalp. Maybe as another tribute to old Ruthie, when he got back home, he'd cut Letitia's filthy, smelly scalp off, too.

  There was a sound-- something moved just beyond the trees. It wasn't that Norm let his guard down, but he was thinking so much about Ruth he imagined her as a ghost coming at him from the darkness. Norm Cocke wasn't usually given to irrational fears, but he was scared of ghosts. He'd never seen one, but just talking about them made it difficult for him to be alone in the dark. He had to get his mind off the subject, to get away from the mental picture he had of Ruth's dead body curled into a semi-fetal position, hardened with rigor mortis. And the more he tried to get his mind away from that image, the more difficult it was. He felt for her knife, which was still tied to his boot, and he felt minor relief that at least she wouldn't be able to get him with that.

  Another sound-- from behind. It was the horse. It got loose and was running away from the camp. Then it dawned on him...

  As Norm got up, a form emerged from the darkness in front of him: Kodiak stepped out from behind a tree and with a deft flick of his wrist threw something straight into Norm's left eye and cut it open. Before Norm even felt the thing in his eye, Kodiak rammed a knee hard into Norm's crotch, knocking the fight out of him. He grabbed the shotgun out of Norm's hands and tossed it away. He slammed Norm face down into the ground twice, knocking him out. Satisfied that Norm was out for the duration, Kodiak looked at the tents to make sure nobody else heard the ruckus.

  He found the lug wrench lying on the ground near a stack of boxes beside the closest tent. Again he checked the tents for any stirrings, until he felt safe enough to continue.

  The Sasquatch was awake. Due to all the excitement earlier in the day, Montagna had forgotten to dope the animal. Kodiak and the creature were now staring at each other. He knew releasing this animal was right, and he felt good for the first time since this trip began.

  When he put the wrench to the first bolt, the metal creaked from the release of pressure. The Sasquatch growled at him and bared its teeth. Kodiak remained still, knowing if he made any sudden moves the animal would react. This job would be so much easier if only the animal were still doped up.

  Kodiak looked back at the tents, his mind reeling. This was his last chance, unless he just went ahead and killed Montagna, Norm and Dave. Then he'd have all the time in the world. But he didn't want to do that. He had killed plenty of people in Korea, and several more in his capacity as an undercover agent for the Department of Fish and Wildlife. While he wasn't afraid of any man, he took no pleasure in taking another's life, which was why he had tossed the shotgun away.

  The creature screeched. It screeched loud and hard.

  Dave came out first, running right at Kodiak. "I knew you'd come back-- OOMPH!!!" He was struck suddenly across the mid-section with a tree branch, and when he doubled over, Cyrena hit him again across the back of his shoulders.

  She staggered back when Dave hit the ground. He wasn't unconscious, but he was hurt enough to stay down on his hands and knees until he regained his senses. He made a sudden lunge for her, but she jumped back out of his reach, and he fell back on the ground. She couldn't bring herself to hit him again, so she grabbed up a handful of dirt and threw it in his eyes. He screamed and rubbed furiously at his eyes with his fists.

  Montagna bolted out of his tent, and Kodiak shouted to Cyrena, "Get the hell out of here!"

  Cyrena ran back to the woods as Montana jumped over Dave like a hurdle, and dove into Kodiak. They slammed into the cage, which flipped on its side. Kodiak stood up, and Montagna punched him in the face. The blow hurt, but it was not sufficient to slow Kodiak down. He drew back his fist to hit Montagna, but Montagna slammed into him and they became interlocked.

  The entire time the Sasquatch had been in the cage, it had been lying on its back. When the cage flipped on its side, the Sasquatch leaned farther over and toppled the cage face-down.

  Montagna bit Kodiak's left pectoral muscle and drew blood. The pain was excruciating, but finite enough to fuel Kodiak's own rage. He grabbed Montagna by his ears, trying to pull his head back, but Montagna just bit harder. They staggered backward until they tripped over the unconscious Norm, and they went down. Montagna was dislodged, left with only a bloody piece of Kodiak's shirt hanging from his mouth.

  Kodiak pressed his hand against the wound on his chest, recalling what Ben had said about Montagna fighting dirty.

  Instantly, Montagna jumped back on his feet and charged at Kodiak again, shrieking like a lunatic...

  Dave cleaned most the dirt out of his eyes and looked around wildly. Completely ignoring Montagna and Kodiak, he found and followed Cyrena's footprints into the woods. He was going to get her. Finally. If it took all night, he was going to find her, tie her up, grope her, and then rape her. Just as he had always visualized it. She would be his first, his way, in the woods, where nobody could hear him scream.

  He kept running, cringing from the pain in his belly and across his shoulders. Nothing seemed broken, and his rage insured that the pain would not stop him from reaching his goal, his obsession.

  When Montagna came at him, Kodiak struck him hard across the mouth, sending him reeling to the ground. Before Montagna could re-orient himself, Kodiak grabbed him by a handful of the hair on the back of his head and hurled Montagna face-first into a tree with a CRACK!

  The Sasquatch, now on its stomach, pushed its hands through the bottom bars and lifted the cage off the ground. It began to drag itself away from the human action, toward the precipice above the waterfall, where there was a twenty-foot drop to the river.

  Kodiak was watching the Sasquatch from the corner of his eye. Hopefully, all he would need to do is keep Montagna distracted long enough for it to break free of the cage on its own.

  The Sasquatch grabbed the titanium bars and with its superior strength was able to bend them apart.

  Montagna turned on Kodiak and put up his fists. His face was covered with splotches of blood that were black in the moonlight, but his eyes were wide and they seemed to glow, as did his teeth when he grimaced at Kodiak. "Come on! Let's do it! You know what I did to Ben! And when I'm done with you, I'm gonna do Cyrena!"

  Kodiak didn't put up his fists. He just stood in front of Montagna with his arms at his side. He then lifted what looked like a playing card, and with a snap of his wrist, he threw it at Montagna...

  The card shot through the air like a Chinese throwing star and struck between the knuckles on Montagna's right fist. It pierced his skin and stuck out by its corner. Montagna was dumbfounded by this-- it defied logic-- but it also drew his attention away from Kodiak.

  Kodiak grabbed one of the bundled CO2 rafts and hit Montagna in the face, smashing his nose. He struck Montagna's torso and threw him across the clearing, sending him smashing into the cage.

  The Sasquatch was already halfway out of the cage, but was still wedged between the bars when Montagna slammed into it. The Sasquatch yelled with a noise that sounded almost human; a cry of rage that, had anybody heard it in the forest, they would have fled for their lives. It grabbed Montagna with its free hand, biting into the top of Montagna's head. Montagna screamed, wrestling furiously to get loose. But the Sasquatch's teeth were sharper than they looked. He could feel the skin on top of his head
being ripped open as the Sasquatch's jaws locked down like a pit bull.

  Kodiak watched in stunned disbelief.

  Finally, Montagna grabbed the bottom of the cage and flipped it away from himself, sending the cage-- and the Sasquatch-- over the precipice.

  Kodiak ran to the edge of the waterfall, ignoring Montagna, who was face down in the dirt, with trails of fresh blood oozing across his bald pate like a bad comb-over.

  Kodiak watched as the cage hit the rocks and disappeared in the phosphorescent cloud of white water. He ran to the deep pool of water beyond the waterfall and jumped in, still holding the CO2 raft, and landed in the deepest part of the river, clearing the rocks.

  The icy water almost gave him a heart attack. When he came up for air the cage bumped up against him, and he grabbed it.

  Montagna steadied himself on his knees and had to fight panic when he saw how much blood was dripping down from his injured head. He reached up and felt loose pieces of tattered skin, some the size of a nickel.

  He spotted Kodiak in the water below and remembered seeing the shotgun on the ground during the fight, and he went for it. He came back to the precipice over the river and tried to get as clear a view of Kodiak as the moonlight would allow.

  The blast narrowly missed Kodiak, but some of the pellets struck the cage, and he released it. He took a deep breath and dove back under water, out of the shotgun's range.

  Montagna pumped the shotgun, but waited before firing again. He had one shot left, and it had to count. There had been four shells in the shotgun before the incident with Ben, and the rest were in the horse's saddle bag: the horse that was now gone. He watched the river, waiting for Kodiak to break the surface, his finger caressing the trigger, playing with it, itching to shoot...

  Kodiak swam with the current, keeping his arms out before him to prevent hitting any rocks and to feel for the cage. He had to come up for air, but he knew Montagna was waiting for him to pop up. Ignoring the immediate need for oxygen, he fumbled with the raft until he found the triggering mechanism and pulled it open. The CO2 tank filled the raft with an explosive HIIISSSSTTTTT!!!!!! The raft tore from Kodiak's grasp.

  When the raft broke the surface Kodiak saw the angry flash of the shotgun high above, heard the ear-shattering BOOM! and felt the water spray on impact. Montagna missed again.

  Kodiak came up for air and swam past the shredded remains of the raft.

  Montagna threw the shotgun at him, screaming with rage. Everything was gone: Kodiak, Cyrena, and most important, the Sasquatch.

  Behind him Norm stirred into consciousness. He was moaning.

  Montagna dropped onto the ground beside Norm. He had come across Ruth's red bandanna and was gently daubing at his throbbing, bloody head. The pain was too severe to wipe, and he didn't want to risk tearing away more skin, so he folded the bandanna diagonally, wrapped it across the top of his head, and tied it under his chin, like a babushka.

  Norm, still with the playing card sticking from his left eye, looked up at Montagna. "Ruthie... Ruthie... You look like crap..."

  WHACK!!! Montagna cold-cocked Norm across the mouth, sending him back into unconsciousness.

  ***

  The sun came up but wasn't strong enough to burn off the shroud of coastal fog that filled the Queets Valley. In his crazed pursuit of Cyrena, Dave Bovard had become hopelessly lost. The thin air left him gasping for breath, and he had to double over to relieve the cramps that developed in his sides from running so hard. He spat, trying to dispel the feeling of having a wad of packaging tape in his mouth.

  He had come so close to grabbing her. Just another couple of inches and he could have pulled her back by grabbing a handful of her hair. He would have pulled her head back so hard it probably would have snapped her neck. But she had gained speed and outdistanced him again.

  He would still have her. Of that he was dead certain. She was a few years older than he was, and he had strength on his side. Women like her had no real capacity for effective self-defense. Besides, what was she-- a middle-aged, divorced school teacher who tagged along on this trip to break the continual boredom of an otherwise uneventful existence. If she was looking for a good time, he was going to see that she got one. He'd ram a good time into her. That's what he had in mind for her. Someplace where nobody could hear her scream. Then he'd kill her.

  The gray fog turned white in the daylight, but it was still impossible to see more than twenty feet in any direction. Everything was just shadows. Suddenly the fear of being lost started to sink in, and Dave had to hug himself to keep from shaking. There were wild animals out here. Just the other day he saw tracks belonging to what looked like a whole pack of wolves. What if there were wolves around now? Or bears? He couldn't block out the mental image of the juvenile Sasquatch after he shot it; the way it turned on him, its eyes wide and staring like a crazed animal. Then it started walking toward him... He changed the picture in his head to what he was going to do to Cyrena when he caught her. He got another erection.

  He started walking. Hulking shadows on all sides offered no comfort and no familiarity, until he was close enough to make out the bark pattern on the trees through the fog. Even being lost, he knew he wasn't far behind Cyrena, and at least he was something of a skilled outdoorsman. But she was running blind, and if he was this scared, she must be coming completely unglued. Maybe she'd even be glad to see him.

  Something moved.

  Directly ahead, no more than thirty feet. He only caught a glimpse, but in that moment he saw enough of her long brown hair to eliminate his growing fear. Then she was gone. He picked up his pace, keeping a steady eye on the swirling patch of fog that she moved through. He stopped to listen.

  She was still ahead, but not moving. She must have sensed his presence and taken refuge behind a tree. He went up a twenty-five-foot embankment for a better vantage point, found a rock, hefted it weightily in his hand, then discarded it for a bigger one. He held the rock and squatted down, peering down into the white, cloudy soup for any sign of movement from her.

  Cyrena knew Dave saw her when she passed between the trees. She slammed up against the trunk of a pine and held her breath, trying to come up with some plan of action that would get her out of this mess. The fog was still too heavy to run through. She could easily trip and fall. And if she broke a limb, Dave would be on top of her in seconds and a broken limb would be the least of her problems.

  She looked around for a weapon. During their stay in the gully Kodiak told her anything could be a weapon so long as you kept your wits about you. Well, looking around now she didn't see anything she could use, and as for her wits, she seemed to recall losing those several miles back.

  When some time had passed and he hadn't heard any other sound, Dave knew he had Cyrena cornered. Since she was scared, there was no sense in attacking her outright. He'd much rather draw this out and play with her. Savor her suffering. He cupped his mouth with his left hand, holding the rock in his right, poised to throw and hollered, "Cy-re-na! I know you can hear me! You know there's no point in running anymore! Come on out!"

  She had no weapon, no plan, and no serious hope for escape. But she did refuse to let him believe he intimidated her, which is exactly what he did. She reached into her pocket and took out one of the playing cards she found on the ground back at the camp. Of course there was no way she could do what George did with it. She shoved it back into her pocket and yelled, " Come and get-- get me!" Despite the waver in her voice, she sounded confident and unafraid, but God only knew she sure didn't feel that way. She knew exactly what Dave had in mind for her, but she was going to make sure he suffered in the attempt.

  Dave smiled, deciding he couldn't waste any more time, as the fog was starting to thin, and he had to take advantage of its cover. The landscape around him was becoming clearer, and the natural colors were coming through.

  The image of Andy Paul's horror-stricken face filled his mind again. But instead of remorse, or dread, it confirmed to him that there wa
s no turning back from what he had already done. Cyrena was now just sweet icing on the cake.

  He grasped the rock firmly and stepped into the open. He saw her between the trees fifty feet below. An easy target. In high school he was offered baseball scholarships by several major colleges, and everyone who knew him expected that he would make the major leagues. His arrest in his senior year for dealing drugs ended all his hopes of college and a career in baseball. Through all these past years, his throwing arm remained strong. So when he threw the rock, it went straight for home...

  But the thrill of the hunt, and what would follow, turned suddenly to icy terror as he realized his intended target was not who-- or what-- he thought. Just as the rock arced downward, the head of hair rose up to a full height of nine feet.

  Dave froze, his eyes filled with horror, his body numb with sick dread as the rock hit with a dead solid THUD! Everything seemed to stand perfectly still for several long moments.

  Then the animal reacted.

  Cyrena feared the worst when she heard nothing more from Dave. She anticipated him tackling her at any second, but nothing happened. She heard the smack of the rock against something no more than thirty feet from where she was standing. Then she heard a startled grunt; something that sounded like the angry snort of an enraged bull.