by Shaye Marlow
I stroked her chin. “My brothers,” I explained, “are idiots. You are neither of those things. Hell, if either of us was a pity fuck, it was me. All injured and depressed…”
She squeezed my arm and shook her head.
“I sought you out because I enjoy your company,” I said. “You brighten my day, make me look forward to getting up in the morning. And because your touch was—is—just about the best thing I’ve ever felt.”
Thea hiccupped, looking at me with the barest beginnings of a smile. “So… you want to stay?” she asked.
God, I was an idiot. I gathered her up, holding her face in my hands, looking into the most beautiful eyes I’d ever seen. “Yes. I want to stay, with you. I want to be wherever you are.”
“I live in Oregon,” she said.
“Then I’ll move,” I said. “I’d follow you anywhere.”
And still, she hesitated. “I don’t like the fighting,” she said, her voice small.
I made a sound of frustration. “I agree, I might have been slightly too hard on my brothers, and I will try harder to resolve things nonviolently in the future, but… they’re my brothers. Brothers fight. It’s a fact of life. And,” I said, “I’m not quitting MMA.” A stronger man might’ve been able to, but not me. I didn’t want to, didn’t feel I needed to, didn’t want to find out who I was without it. Didn’t want to be miserable again, not when I’d just begun to see my way to returning.
She didn’t speak. She was silent and still, searching my eyes, and there was never a time I would’ve paid more to know what a woman was thinking.
“It’s what I do, what I love to do,” I said, hoping to communicate how important it was to me. Hoping not to have to choose. “It’s always been, for as long as I can remember. I thought I’d lost that part of my life, but you helped me see that maybe I could get it back. I’m so close to getting it back. I want to keep fighting, and I will, for as long as I’m able. I’m not going to change. It’s who I am,” I said softly, willing her to understand.
“It just worries me. I appreciate that you used your skills to rescue me—thank you again, thank you,” she said, grasping my hand. “But… well… you seem dangerous.”
“I am dangerous,” I said. “But I would never hurt you. Think of it like a loaded gun in the hands of someone you trust, someone who loves you. They’re not going to turn that gun on you. They’re going to use it to protect you, to their dying breath.”
“And do you?” she asked.
“Do I…?”
“Love me?” she asked, voice faltering.
“Thea…” I shook my head, and watched her wilt.
Just then, someone banged on the door. And this was no polite tapping. This was a heavy, full-fisted thudding. Whoever was doing it was serious. And impatient. And, had really poor timing.
I kissed her cheek, and then the other, her little chin, her forehead, her quivering lower lip. “I adore you,” I said. “I enjoy you, and admire you. I crave your hands on me, and cherish every second with you.”
The knocking increased, until the door rattled on its hinges. “Zack! Rory!” the knocker yelled. The voice was muffled, but it was definitely a woman.
I gathered my thoughts, refusing to be sidetracked. “I’m crazy about you, head-over-heels for you, and… I can’t wait to see if you’re as sassy as Dotty when you’re old and gray,” I said, making her laugh.
“Break it down,” the muffled voice ordered.
“Dammit,” I growled.
“You should probably go get that,” Thea said, smiling.
I was halfway across the room when the door crashed inward, landing with a muffled rattle on a bed of AstroTurf. I crossed my arms, glowering at Suzy across it. “Nice.”
“Well, why didn’t you answer?” she fired right back. She stood there with a good half the population of the river behind her. She—and they—appeared upset.
Suzy put her hands on her hips. “We’ve decided on a punishment,” she said. “Where are your brothers?”
“Said they’d be in the shop.”
“We checked. They’re not.”
“Well… shit.” My brothers had flown the coop. And it did make sense, seemed entirely like something they’d do.
“Do you have the suits?” she asked.
“What?”
“The Bigfoot suits. Do you know where they are? They’re not in the boat.”
“Aaahhh… no.”
Suzy tapped her foot. “So, let’s review: Your brothers are missing, and the Bigfoot suits are missing.”
“It appears that way, yes.”
“And it’s probably too much to ask that they didn’t go missing together.”
“Probably is, yes.”
“So, your brothers are probably in the suits, out there, right now.”
I winced. “Probably.”
Suzy growled. Then she lifted and keyed a mic I hadn’t even realized was in her hand. “Guidefather, this is Cap’n Curls, come in.”
“Yeah, I’m walking up from the boat. What’s up?”
Suzy turned, along with most of the crowd, to see Ed, flanked by menacing-looking fishing guides, walking up from the shore. “They’re missing. They took the suits, and they’re god-knows-where, in them, right now!”
Thea’d stepped up behind me. “Actually, all of the sightings have been on this side of the river. And if they didn’t take a boat, they’re over here somewhere, between the river and mountains. The farthest sightings were two miles to the north and about that distance to the south, so we’ve got a four-mile range.”
Suzy glanced back at Ed. “You think we can find them?”
Ed nodded. “Let’s hunt ’em down.” He lifted his radio. “This is an APB for the Adderack boys, Zack and Rory. Caucasian, late twenties, six foot plus, blond, blue-eyed. May be wearing Bigfoot costumes. Approach with caution, subjects unpredictable. This is not a rescue operation, but subjects are to be brought in alive—”
“But roughed up a bit is okay,” Suzy said.
Ed smiled, and re-keyed his mic. “But roughed up a bit is okay,” he repeated.
“We’ll take the Jeep.” Sweeping the key off the rack, I extended my hand to Thea. I felt a little thrill when she took it, and we stepped over the door to start down the stairs.
“I’ll go with you,” Tim rumbled, following us across the yard. “I’ve got a radio,” he explained. “And, I tend to break four-wheeler axles.”
“Would you like the front?” Thea asked him as we reached the Jeep.
He was already climbing in the back. “Nah, but thank you.”
Ed’s voice barked through Tim’s radio as Thea and I piled in. “Let’s go, people! The longer it takes us to get out there, the farther away they’ll be. Tim, have J.D. sweep to the north, along the base of the hills.”
“Copy,” Tim said.
We angled into the woods, and I tapped the gas to get over the mossy hump of a long-decaying log.
Thea glanced back at Tim. “You’ve got some bruises,” she observed. “And they look about the same age as the new ones on J.D.”
Tim was peering out the windows, looking for my brothers, but spared her a glance. And, a grunt.
“That’s because they are,” I said, answering her unspoken question. I hadn’t even realized she’d seen my bruises—or that I was bruised. Too much going on in the past day.
“J.D. and I fight every summer,” Tim said. “One of these summers, I’m going to win.”
“So, you like to fight?” Thea asked, scanning out her window.
Tim shrugged. “’Spose I do.”
“Why?” she asked.
Tim mulled that over as we bounced and jostled along. “Fighting in general? Because it’s exercise, and a way to let off steam. It’s a contest, a challenge. And J.D. in particular? Because he’s the only one who can kick my ass. Winning isn’t much fun if it’s too easy.”
“Amen to that,” I murmured, enjoying listening to his responses. Yes, I fought
him every summer, but did we ever just sit and talk? Hell, no.
“How’d you get into it?” Thea asked.
Tim sighed. “Maybe this’ll be hard for you to believe, but I was bullied as a kid. Both my brother and I. We were already six-foot-six in middle school. And really, I was a gentle giant. But, being that big, I was a target, and there was always somebody with something to prove. They didn’t dare do anything when my twin and I were together, but when they’d find us apart… They’d pick on me, see how far they could push me. It took me years, but I finally got tired of it,” he said. “I learned to fight back.”
“I’ve got a similar story,” I said, glancing across at Thea. “Except it was a friend that was being bullied. I got tired of watching it happen.”
The radio crackled. “Boss, Chin here. We’ve got ’em. About one mile north, near Sinkhole Slough. I thought they were bears, attacking a woman, but they’re running upright.”
I accelerated, moving to join the chase.
“Attacking a woman?” Ed asked.
“Yeah, it’s that housekeeper from Birch Chalets, Mitzi? But she tells me it was all consensual.”
Consensual? I mouthed, glancing over at Thea. Her eyes were wide.
“Tim, did you copy? Converge on that location,” Ed said.
“On it, boss,” Tim rumbled into his radio.
“Guidefather, this is Fat Forty,” another tinny voice said. We could hear the roar of his four-wheeler engine. “I’m to the south, and I’ve got something, too. Large and dark, running upright. Moving very quickly,” he said breathlessly.
Thea and I exchanged a glance. Tim was in the back, so it couldn’t be him.
“Well… stay on it,” Ed said, sounding confused.
“There!” Tim cried.
Following the direction of his sausage-sized finger, I caught sight of a dark shape just as it disappeared down over a rise.
“Red Jeep, I see you. The brothers are angling your way. My guess is they’re trying to lose us in the hills.”
Thea grabbed her oh-shit handle as I poured on the speed and we bumped and jostled along. The Jeep growled, kicking up clods of dirt and moss as my furry brothers came back into sight.
“We got ’em,” Tim said.
“Good. Stay on ’em and good luck,” the guy on the other end of the radio barked. “I just got high-centered.”
Tim chuckled, leaning forward. “Let’s gettem.”
My brothers’ heads swiveled as I floored it and plunged down the bank after them. I fancied I could see the fear in their eyes as I brought their own off-road monster to bear on their sorry, suit-wearing hides.
They picked up their pace, angling to the right—running toward the hills. That wouldn’t normally be a problem, except that the hillside they were aiming for was covered with a thick growth of alder.
And, dammit, there was no frickin’ way I could reach them in time to prevent it, and there was no way the Jeep could plow through that.
Thea popped the latch on the glove compartment, and pulled out a little silver cube.
I glanced over, frowning. “What are you—”
Ka-BOOM! The earth at the edge of the alders, fifty feet or so in front of the brothers, exploded.
They stopped, looking back at us.
I grinned.
Thea toyed with the little joystick. “I wonder how many rockets they loaded into this thing,” she mused.
The number must’ve been at least two, because the brothers changed their game plan. They plunged downhill, headed for the slough—which was also no good.
“Dammit!” The steering wheel creaked under my hands.
“Boss, we might lose ’em at the slough,” Tim said.
“Copy. I need a boat down there, now!”
“We’re on it!” someone responded. “Two minutes out.”
Ed grunted into his radio. “Fat Forty, how’re you doing?” he asked.
“I can’t keep up with this thing,” the guy huffed. The radio crackled, breaking up. “It’s moving too fast… can’t be human…”
The Jeep seemed to be getting louder and louder, until it was making a whooping, roaring thrum. I frowned at the gauges, looking for a check engine light, seeing if my RPMs had red-lined, wondering if maybe I’d dropped my muffler.
A flicker of light drew my attention back up. My furry brothers had broken into the sun at the edge of the slough.
“Where’s that boat?” Tim barked into his radio. “They’re at the water!”
Overhead, a helicopter swooped into view, skimming over the treetops toward the fleeing delinquents.
I cackled as we emerged from the trees.
Zack and Rory had reached the water’s edge, and weren’t slowing. The one in the lead leapt, and as we slogged closer through marshland under two feet of brush, a boat anchored in the middle of the slough came into view. The boat contained four fishermen, all of whom had craned their necks under the helicopter, and whose mouths gaped as Bigfoot fell out of the sky to thump onto their bow.
Bigfoot didn’t dally, instead using his momentum to launch himself toward the other shore. One footstep to land, and the next to launch. He made it, barely.
The other Bigfoot jumped to do the same, arms and legs wind-milling as he sailed over the water. He stumbled a bit on landing, and threw himself toward the far shore.
Slash fail. He splashed into the slough about three feet short. Up to his waist in water, he began a slow-motion hustle toward dry land.
The more coordinated Bigfoot—Zack, I was sure—helped his unfortunate fellow up out of the drink. They turned and made for the trees, the wet one sluicing and spraying water with every movement, the helicopter trailing after like a big balloon on a string.
The fishermen in the boat turned to gawk at us.
Tim leaned forward. “Isn’t that a snorkel?” he asked, pointing at the rectangular black pipe angling up from the side of the hood, following the contour of the windshield.
“You know… I think it is,” I said, and jammed it into first gear.
Thea screamed as we tipped over the edge, and water filled up the windshield. With one mighty plunge, we were in. We leveled out with the water reaching up to just below the windows, and the engine was still running, dragging us along. The sound was now a muffled roar, and the going was slow against the resistance of the water, the tires churning up mud that billowed to the surface.
“Didn’t somebody say this was Sinkhole Slough?” Thea asked, nervously bracing herself between my seat and the door. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”
“Well, we’re in it now,” I pointed out.
“It’ll be fine,” Tim said, patting her shoulder with a big hand. I hoped she didn’t look down and notice the water seeping in around her door.
The fishermen piled to the near side of their boat to watch us slide by. I gave them a little finger-wiggling wave.
I loved the shock on their faces. Just think: They’d taken a vacation to majestic Alaska to see the glaciers calve, the snowy mountain-tops, and to compete with grizzly bears to catch some of the world’s largest salmon. They’d had their feet kicked back, drinking beer, probably swatting at deer flies as they watched baby ducks swim by, just reflecting on the beauty of the scene—when it’d all gone to hell.
Out of nowhere, Bigfoot had dropped in—not one, but two of them—they’d been buzzed by a helicopter, and then a fucking Jeep had submarined across the river behind them, scaring all the fish.
Good times.
Of course the moment I got all cocky, we bogged down. And of course it was as we were directly under the fishermen’s noses. The Jeep’s tires spun, churning up even more mud. The front driver’s side dipped, and suddenly the water was lapping six inches up the windshield.
If I said I didn’t panic a little bit, it would have been a lie. I had no idea how much my brothers paid for this Jeep and its ‘kit’, but I did know how much time and effort we’d put into it, and I was envisioning it stuck, and
flooded, and ultimately swept out into the main river, and lost forever.
I let off the gas as I considered my options, and glanced over at Thea. Her face was pinched, her hand clenched so tightly on the door handle, it was turning white.
“Well,” I said, drawing her gaze, “somebody needs to get out and push.”
Her eyes shot wide.
I only held out for two seconds before I started laughing.
Her lips twitched. “Dammit, J.D. Seriously, though, I’m not liking this. We’re still sinking.”
The water was almost a foot up the windshield.
“This might have been a bad idea,” I agreed.
“Do you have four low?” Tim rumbled.
“As a matter of fact…” I engaged it, then gave the vehicle a little gas. The Jeep lurched, sending a wave of water up over the cab. But we moved, and I got excited, and jammed my foot down. The engine roared… and we rose up out of the hole we’d dug ourselves.
I really thought we were going to have trouble climbing up out of the water, but the engine growled, and the tires gripped, and the water sluiced away in a heavy sheet. For a breathless moment, the windshield was filled with nothing but sky. Then the front end came back down, and Thea laughed with exhilaration.
Grinning, I rolled the window down, and followed the thrumming whop of Gary’s helicopter.
When we arrived on the scene, the helicopter had landed on the far side of a big open area, cutting Zack and Rory off. Helly jumped down from her side, and Gary came around even as the rotors were still spooling down, his rifle in the crook of his elbow. “Don’t make me dart you!” he yelled.
Zack and Rory turned, obviously thinking about fleeing back the way they’d come, but I swung the Jeep to a halt just feet from them, blocking their escape.
I flung open the door, and leapt out. “The snorkel works!” I called.
“Sweet!” yelled the Bigfoot that sounded like Rory.
Tim and Thea came up to stand at my sides.
The two Bigfoot’s heads were swiveling, still looking to escape.