The guy rose from setting the stretcher down in the boat and smiled sheepishly at her.
“You are! Wow! I loved your first album with the Mallets. ‘Crush Me’ is one of my all-time, favorite tunes.”
“Thanks.” He ran his hand through his short-cropped hair.
“You’re solo stuff is…good too. I loved that first Mallets album!”
He grinned painfully and stepped back as Nathan, Quasi, C Note, Bevan, and I all clambered in two of the boats. It was a tight fit. Emily gave Bacon Grease a little wave and followed us, sitting beside the bigfoots, while the roadies climbed in the other boats.
“We need to get these guys deeper in the woods to find some help for them, so you might want to head back,” Nathan said to Quasi, C Note, and Bevan.
Quasi glanced at C Note and Bevan, who shook their heads. “We’re going to see this through.” He turned and yelled to the roadies in their boat. “You guys get back to the venue. We’ve got a show to play tonight!” A cheer went up that could only be described as rock and roll.
Instead of crossing the lake back to the parking lot, Nathan rowed us to the far side, where we carried the stretchers with the unconscious bigfoots on them ashore.
“Are they going to be all right?” Quasi gingerly reached out to touch Slips in Shit but hesitated.
“I think all the teleporting exhausted them.” I smoothed Slips in Shit’s brow.
He looked at me. “They saved us.”
“That’s what they do,” Nathan said.
“You know, I was thinking about what you said,” Quasi said. “Even if I did tell anyone about this, they’d never believe me.”
“Why risk it?” I asked.
“Good point.”
Nathan, Quasi, C Note, and Bevan carried the stretchers into the woods. I hoped the other bigfoots would eventually find us, because we didn’t really believe we’d be able to find them unless they wanted us to. We’d been walking for about a mile when Deer Humper started convulsing.
“Put him down!” Emily ran to him. He was coughing and choking. She got Nathan and Quasi to turn him on his side as he started vomiting.
“That’s how Hendrix died,” C Note said. Bevan nudged him to be quiet.
Deer Humper’s mouth was filling with vomit but it wasn’t going anywhere; it was just staying in there. Emily reached into his mouth and raked it out to clear his breathing passage. I couldn’t help but wince.
Once she’d cleared out his mouth, he vomited a little more and then coughed. She pounded him on the back, and he vomited again.
“He’s not stopping! Why isn’t he stopping?” I asked.
“Can you help him?” Nathan asked Emily.
Emily threw her hands in the air. “I don’t know. I’m just an undergrad. They don’t have classes on bigfoot physiognomy.” Her eyes were wide and scared.
Nathan grabbed her and shook her to calm her down, but it had the opposite effect. She trembled and repeated, “I don’t know.”
I couldn’t stop shaking. No one seemed to know what to do to help, but I had an idea. I stared at the scene of Deer Humper throwing up, of Emily trying to help him, of everyone else (including me) freaking out, and then I closed my eyes. I tried to project as much feeling of fear and the need for help as I could. I visualized the scene as clearly as possible and tried to push it outward; I didn’t really know how to do that and probably couldn’t, but I hoped someone would be “listening,” anyway, and “hear” me. I spoke as I did so, whatever came to mind.
“He needs help. Please. We need help.”
I kept visualizing it until I heard gasps around me. I opened my eyes. We were surrounded by bigfoots.
“You found us! Thank you for coming,” I said. “We didn’t know what to do.”
An older, gray-furred female who looked like a bigfoot grandmother with wrinkled, hairy breasts hanging low caught my eyes. She was leaning on another, younger female for support.
The assistant bigfoot helped the older one over to Deer Humper, who was convulsing every few seconds now, and then down to her knees. The funny thing was that they didn’t usher Emily away. She tried to scoot back, but the older one grabbed her wrist and motioned for her to stay. I could see Emily flinch at the mental images that must’ve flooded her brain.
The old woman leaned down and sniffed Deer Humper’s vomit, which almost made me hurl myself. She motioned for Emily to do the same. Emily looked at me, and I shrugged. She did it, though. She totally bent over the bigfoot and smelled his vomit. I bet she wouldn’t have done that on a dare if you asked her.
Grandma looked deep into Emily’s eyes, and then nodded. Emily reached up and wiped her brow. I didn’t envy her the headache she was probably getting.
The grandmother bigfoot was wearing a pouch, and she reached in and pulled some leaves and berries out. She glanced at the assistant female, who disappeared. Grandma bigfoot put the leaves and things in her mouth and chewed them, but she really didn’t have a lot of teeth. She spat it out and offered it to Emily, who shook her head. Grandma bigfoot pressed it to Emily’s mouth until Emily took the damp mass in her hand. She looked at it and at Grandma.
“OK,” Emily said and put it into her mouth. It was fascinating to watch how disgusting this process was turning out to be.
As Emily chewed, the assistant female returned and offered some berries to Grandma, who then held out her hand. Emily spit the leaves into the hand, and Grandma mashed the berries up with it all and stuck it into Deer Humper’s mouth. She massaged his throat until he swallowed. There was a line of drool coming from Deer Humper’s lips, and he convulsed. Grandma caressed his brow. He convulsed again. It seemed less, though. Finally, he went still.
Grandma motioned for the assistant and Emily to roll Deer Humper onto his back, which they did. The assistant helped Grandma to her feet and led her over to Slips in Shit. I made a movement to go with them, but another bigfoot—a big male—stepped in front of me. I looked up into his eyes, which were angry. It shocked me to see.
“I’m a friend. I rescued him,” I said. “Well, we rescued each other, I guess.”
He glared at me and then stepped aside.
“Thank you.”
I looked around and realized the other male bigfoots had made a ring around us. I wondered how many more were in the woods. Everything I’d learned about bigfoots told me not to be afraid of them, but these looked more like the commandos of bigfoots than the jokers Slips in Shit and Deer Humper were. They were also a full foot taller and much broader than our two friends.
Nathan saw me looking around. “They’re her guards.”
“I thought bigfoots were pacifists.”
He shrugged. “Anything will fight when you back it into a corner.”
“Is she their leader?”
“They don’t really have leaders, but she’s the elder matriarch. So whatever she says, goes. It’s good for us that she took a liking to Emily. It means they might help us.”
“But how? Caroline and the Council are gone.”
“They’ll resurface.”
While we talked, Grandma knelt beside Slips in Shit. She dug out more leaves. This time, Emily took them before she could start the chewing process. Emily chewed, then spit them into Grandma’s hand. Grandma mixed them with some more berries and put the mass into Slips in Shit’s mouth. She helped him swallow by massaging his throat. A moment passed, and he exhaled.
The assistant helped Grandma to her feet. Emily reached to help, and I don’t know what I expected, but I was surprised when Grandma let her. She took Emily’s hand in hers and squeezed it. Emily froze in her tracks, and Grandma stood there, looking at her, showing her gums in a smile. She patted Emily’s hand, and Emily sucked in air and blinked but didn’t take her hand away. Victory for us humans.
The assistant helped Grandma over to Nathan and me. The bigfoot guards were watching us, which made me a little nervous, but I couldn’t help but think Grandma could probably take care of herself. She loo
ked into my eyes and smiled.
“Thank you,” she said. “Daisy Janney of the line of Baltimore.”
I could almost hear my jaw hit the ground.
“You can talk,” was all I could think to say.
She nodded and made a little bit gesture. Then it hit me.
“What do you mean, the line of Baltimore?”
A vision I’d seen before—of a guy dressed in old-timey clothes rescuing a bigfoot child from some settlers—appeared in my head.
“I saw that,” I said. “Is that Lord Baltimore? His hair isn’t nearly as poofy as it looks in the portraits.”
“Lord Baltimore didn’t actually found Baltimore,” Nathan said. “He sent his son, Leonard Calvert, to do it.”
Grandma bigfoot nodded at that. I remembered the line of children and descendants I’d been shown before.
“Wait, so I’m descended from Leonard Calvert, from Lord Baltimore?”
“That…explains some things,” Nathan said.
“How do you know?” I asked, still trying to process.
She tapped the side of her nose.
“No shit?”
“No shit.” She looked at the bigfoots on stretchers, and sadness crossed her face. She reached up and patted me on the shoulder. “You go now.” She turned to Emily. “You make good doctor.” She patted Emily on the shoulder also, and Emily’s face erupted into a smile. She was crying, I realized.
Grandma and her assistant turned away from us. Some of the bigfoot guards had already lifted the stretchers with Slips in Shit and Deer Humper on them and were carrying them away.
“Smart.” Grandma nodded at the stretchers. Somehow Emily smiled even larger.
“But wait,” I said. “We still have to rescue the others. We need your help!”
Grandma turned with some effort. “We go,” she said. “You go too.”
“Where are you going?”
An image of deep woods that resembled a jungle, full of animals and birds, appeared in my mind. Along with it came a feeling that it was off-limits, and I realized she was telling me not to try to follow them.
I stepped toward Grandma, and a couple of the bigfoot guards moved between us.
“When they wake up,” I said, gesturing toward the unconscious bigfoots already disappearing into the trees, “tell them thank you. Tell them we’re sorry.”
Grandma nodded and then they all stepped into the trees and were gone. The clearing settled into silence. I realized I was crying too.
“Chicks,” Nathan said.
* * *
We made our way back to the boats and got in. None of us said much as we took turns paddling back to the parking lot. I guess we were all trying to process things.
Quasi hopped out of the boat and held my hand as I climbed out. “What now?” he asked as we stepped ashore.
“You’ve got a concert to play,” I said.
He laughed. Bevan pushed past us and headed up to the bus. C Note and Emily were getting reacquainted rather passionately. Quasi took two steps away, turned, and gave me a kiss like I don’t know what.
“This has been some crazy shit,” he said. I laughed and he smiled and went to the bus. Bevan got on, followed by C Note, who turned and blew Emily a kiss, then Quasi, who grinned at me and blushed.
“What do we do now?” I asked, mimicking Quasi’s question as the bus pulled away, leaving Nathan, Emily, and me.
“We go see the concert,” Emily said. There were still tear lines on her cheeks.
“You did really well,” I said.
She smiled. “I did, didn’t I?”
* * *
A few hours and a nap later, we got to the field, which was full of life. People were piled on like chatty grains of sand on a beach, if the beach happened to be wreathed with pot smoke. Nathan, Emily, and I pushed through to the front until a roadie saw us and ushered us backstage. I recognized him from the failed raid on the Council cave.
Backstage was basically the tour bus. On board, it was better than my dorm room. There was a bathroom, a little kitchen, refrigerators, TV screens. I was jealous, I’ll admit.
Emily marched over to C Note. He and Quasi were practicing on their instruments, unplugged, while Bevan tapped his practice pad.
Emily threw her arms around C Note. “We just wanted to wish you guys good luck.”
“Thanks, babe.” C Note hugged her back.
Quasi looked up, distracted, and I pecked him on the cheek.
“We should get out of your hair.” Emily let go of C Note.
“Yeah, we’ll see you after the show,” Quasi said. I drew him into a deep kiss.
Back off the bus, Emily looked worried.
“They were just focusing on the show,” I said.
“Yeah.” She sighed. “What a day. I never knew there were things like bigfoots in the world.”
There didn’t seem to be anything I could say to that. “Let’s go have some fun and listen to some music,” I said.
* * *
We stayed up front by the security guards, which meant we were packed in with all the diehard fans. A deafening roar went up as the band came out on stage.
“Hello, Bumfuck,” C Note said. “I just want to say some things have happened lately that we never expected. Some truly weird stuff. The kind of stuff that really broadens your experience, you know? And opens up your mind to what’s possible in the world…”
Nathan stiffened beside me.
C Note laughed. “It’s been an amazing experience, and we want to thank everyone for coming out.”
Nathan relaxed.
“All right, enough of the sappy bullshit.” He hit a chord and started to play.
* * *
The band played for a solid two hours, stopping only for a few seconds between some songs, and not even pausing between a lot of them. I would’ve thought they’d get exhausted maintaining that intensity, but they seemed to grow more and more energetic as they played. I’d been to concerts before, but never this close up. It was almost a mystical experience, being buoyed and surrounded by the crowd as we all drowned in the music and the vibrancy. Time no longer existed. There was music and warmth and a feeling of connectedness as C Note and Quasi screamed and sang and rapped at us.
When it was over, the music faded, but I felt like we were still connected. We were strangers but somehow not. The band left the stage. Emily was grinning and even Nathan seemed to be enjoying himself. The crowd started to chant for Shizknit to come back for an encore. We joined in, yelling and singing, but they didn’t come back. Five minutes passed. Ten. Fifteen.
“They’re really milking it,” Emily yelled over the noise of the audience.
“Yeah,” I yelled back. “This is going on kind of long.”
The crowd was chanting, “Shizknit!” over and over, but there was no sign of them. We pushed up to the security guards, who wore the slightly dazed but stern looks of guys who didn’t know what was going on. I recognized one of them from the cave, and he led us around the stage to backstage, where the roadies were rushing around in a panic. Nathan grabbed one of them to stop him.
“What’s happening?”
“I don’t know. They’re gone,” the roadie said. I recognized him from the raid earlier also.
“Shizknit?” Emily said.
“They came off stage and just disappeared.”
“Have you checked the bus?” I asked. Everyone looked at me as if I were retarded.
Nathan ran to the bus, anyway, and climbed on board. He emerged a moment later and shook his head.
“The Council.” He kicked one of the bus’s tires until a roadie asked him to stop.
“What do we do now?” I asked.
But he was too busy finding something else to kick.
* * *
I felt bad for the roadie who had to announce that the band wouldn’t give an encore. We told him not to mention that the band had disappeared, just to say that they were too tired.
“We’re sorry,”
he said. The crowd reacted as if they’d been hurt, lied to, even.
The crowd kept milling around as though the band might reappear and play some more until the next group started to set up, which helped alleviate some of the negativity. Nathan, Emily, and I made our way through the crowd to the gate, found Emily’s jeep, and drove back to the campsite.
“Tell me about the artifact you found,” Nathan said.
* * *
When we got back, our campsite was in shambles.
“My tent!” Emily exclaimed.
Gashes slit the tent’s fabric as if a bear had attacked it. Someone had cut up the mattress and our chairs. The tub had been dumped out, and our things were scattered around. It looked like a tornado had hit the site.
“Tell me you hid it better than this,” Nathan said.
I led him over to the site beside us where the pothead friends of Emily were camping. He watched with chagrin as I took three steps from their tent and then turned to my left and took three more until I stood on a patch of sand.
“Practicing your dancing?” he said.
I ignored him and knelt down and dug into it until I hit a towel, about three feet down. I pulled it out and unwrapped it to reveal the artifact.
“What is it?” Emily asked.
“Fuck if I know,” Nathan said.
I handed it to him. He turned it over and examined the dial on the front.
“What do you think it does?” I asked.
He put it to his ear and listened.
“Is it ticking?”
He shook his head. “Fuck it,” he said and turned the dial and disappeared.
CHAPTER TEN
Emily and I looked around, dazed, until Nathan reappeared an instant later. He fell to his knees and vomited all into the sand pit I’d unburied the artifact from.
“Fuck,” he said when he caught his breath.
“You disappeared,” Emily said.
He heaved and then climbed to his feet. “That wasn’t fun.”
Tall, Dark and Hairy (The Necro-Files Book 3) Page 11