Bigfoot Hunters Read online

  Danni answered, “I think so. Coordinates line up with what my friend gave me. Wild Feather likes it, too.”

  I bet he does.

  As if in answer to Harrison’s thoughts, Wild Feather replied, “The ground here is wholesome. There is harmony with the spirits in this place.”

  “Well, let’s get with the harmony, then,” Allison replied with a giggle. “I’m getting cold.”

  Amongst them, they had brought four tents. For the sake of speed, though, they decided to set up only three for the night. Danni and Allison would share one, Paula and Rob would take another, and the three remaining guys would share the largest. Considering Paula’s stance on things, that more or less guaranteed that nobody needed to worry about any excess nocturnal activities over the course of that first night.

  Danni, Harrison, and Greg set up the tents. Paula and Rob began to collect firewood from the edge of the clearing, an easy task as it had been a fairly dry week. Wild Feather and Allison worked on the rest of their supplies – hanging up the food just in case any bears happened to be in the area, then starting to cobble together dinner for the group.

  Working diligently, within an hour they were more or less good to go. The tents were up with the sleeping bags inside, a fire was going, and a modest meal was heating up over the flames. As darkness descended, they lit a few Coleman lamps at the edges of the clearing to provide some extra light. That done, the campers began to gather around the fire both for warmth and a little relaxation. All in all, there was a content mood amongst them, their earlier trouble along the logging route completely forgotten.

  “Well, we made it,” Allison said, her pretty eyes twinkling in the firelight. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but I think this calls for a toast.”

  “Just one?” Danni asked.

  “Well, maybe two or three.” She laughed and walked to the nearest cooler, pulling out two six packs. “Any takers?” she asked, receiving nods from all around the campsite.

  As Danni took hers, Harrison said, “I’m afraid I’m going to need to see some I.D., miss.”

  She flipped him the finger and casually replied, “I.D. this, big brother,” eliciting laughs from around the fire.

  After the bottles had been cracked open and several long pulls taken, Wild Feather spoke up. “This reminds me of the old days. The braves of my tribe would sit around the fire as brothers.”

  “What would they do?” Allison asked, undressing him with her eyes.

  “Many things. Most nights, they would tell tales of the spirits. Sometimes, they would make a war counsel. Other times, they would pass the peace pipe around the circle.”

  “I think I can help with that last one,” Greg said. Unsurprisingly – at least to Harrison and Rob – he pulled two blunts from his jacket pocket and held them up to the group. “Who’s for a little ‘peace pipe’ action?”

  Under normal circumstances, Harrison might have joined in with the peace offering. He knew Rob probably would’ve done so, too, but tonight they both had personal demons to deal with. For Rob, it was obviously the presence of his girlfriend. While she wasn’t a one-hundred percent stick in the mud, they had never known her to go for much more than a drink or two, much less any chemical enhancements.

  Harrison, on the other hand, had a desire to remain mostly sober so as to keep an eye on Wild Feather. He just didn’t trust that guy around Danni. He knew a player when he saw one, and he also knew a bullshit artist, too. He wasn’t enamored of his sister becoming another notch on this guy’s teepee.

  In the end, only Allison and Wild Feather accepted Greg’s offer. Harrison wasn’t sure if Danni declined because she wasn’t into it or because he was around. Either way, that was fine by him. If she kept a clear head, she’d be less likely to fall for any mystical bullshit tossed her way. Also, as one of the more experienced campers in the group, it was likewise probably a good idea to keep her wits about her until they became more comfortable with the area.

  Thus, they sat around the campfire. They talked, they drank, and some of them smoked. The conversation was amiable enough and, Harrison’s misgivings aside, even he found himself beginning to relax, although a part of him was pretty sure it was a mild contact high from the marijuana smoke wafting around the group.

  After a while, Allison stood up. She grabbed a flashlight and announced, “Nature calls.”

  Paula replied, “I think I’ll join you.”

  “Figures,” Rob mused. “Even in the woods, chicks have to pee in a group.”

  Paula slapped him playfully on the shoulder, then the two girls walked toward the tree line.

  “Don’t go far!” Danni yelled after them.

  “Do you think you should go with them?” Harrison asked.

  “Not really,” she replied. “Allison knows what she’s doing. I’m not saying anything she doesn’t already know.”

  “Yes,” Wild Feather said, “she has told me of her many walks in the woods of Pennsylvania. She is as home in the forest as a doe.”

  “And what about you, Feather?” Harrison asked. “You seem to know a thing or two about being in the wilderness.”

  “It is a rite of passage amongst my people. When I came of age, I was sent out from my tribe with nothing but my wits. I was expected to survive for seven moons in this way.”

  “I thought it was the Spartans who did that shit,” Greg replied in a lazy voice.

  Wild Feather appeared momentarily taken aback by that. “All people of warrior mettle have similar customs,” he quickly replied.

  A little too quickly, perhaps, Harrison noted. Maybe it was the joint he had been smoking, but for a second there, Wild Feather’s demeanor seemed to crack a little. Greg’s seemingly innocuous comment had caught him by surprise. Harrison was tempted to ask whether he had stolen that idea from the movie 300, when he was interrupted by the girls’ abrupt return.

  “I don’t think we’re alone out here, guys,” Allison said, approaching the fire.

  “Well, yeah. There are deer all around this area,” Danni replied. “Not to mention...”

  “I know that. I meant people. For a minute there, I saw lights off in the woods.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Harrison. “That shit Greg carries is pretty potent.”

  “I saw it, too,” Paula said. “It was weird. There were these red lights shining around out there.”

  Allison nodded. “I pointed my flashlight in their direction, and then they just disappeared.”

  “It was probably some hikers,” Harrison said. “Sometimes they’ll use a red light because it doesn’t screw with night vision.”

  “I think you mean hunters,” Danni countered. “Most hikers out after dark are more interested in seeing what’s in front of them.”

  “Why do you think they shut down when we saw them?” Paula asked, a little of that earlier nervousness starting to creep into her voice.

  She’s proving to be jumpy out here, Harrison noted. He gave what he thought was an easy shrug. “They’re probably out here without a license. If they saw you, it’s a good thing. They’ll be heading away from us. It’s not like we’re exactly being subtle out here.”

  “It saddens me when people must resort to poaching,” Wild Feather said. “I can only hope they put to good use whatever they take. My people have never been wasteful with the land.”

  Allison took that as cue to sit down next to him. “Don’t let it get you down. Not everyone respects nature like we do.” If she noticed the eye-rolls that both Harrison and Rob made, she didn’t acknowledge them. “I know,” she continued. “Since we’re all gathered ‘round the fire, why don’t you tell us one of your tribe’s stories?”

  “Aren’t we supposed to be telling ghost stories?” Rob asked.

  “My people have many tales of the spirits,” Wild Feather replied. “Some of them would qualify as your ghost stories.”

  “Tell us one,” Danni said, moving to sit on his other sid
e. Harrison felt a prickle of annoyance as she did so. He was not overly keen on his sister being the bread in a bullshit sandwich.

  “I have an appropriate one. It is a tale of the wild man of the woods. What my people call sasquatch. Many moons ago...”

  “Hold it!” Rob interrupted. “What your people call sasquatch? I heard that the word sasquatch was just a made-up bastardization by some guy in the seventies. No Native Americans ever called it that.”

  “Way to go, Rob,” Harrison commented with perhaps a bit more glee in his voice than warranted. “Who’d have thought that stupid ‘Crypto Hunter’ show would pay off?”

  “You watch that crap?” Allison asked.

  “What? It’s a good show.”

  “It’s always the same,” she complained. “They never find shit at the end of it.”

  “It doesn’t matter. At least they keep an open mind. I think it’s cool that someone is out there looking into this stuff,” Rob replied a bit defensively. “Besides, how would you know they never find anything if you don’t watch it?”

  It was hard to tell in the firelight, but Allison’s face appeared to flush a little. “Fine, you got me. The guy who hosts it is kind of cute.” Danni raised an eyebrow in her friend’s direction. “What? He is. Oh, who cares about that dumb show? Come on, Wild Feather, tell us the story.”

  He appeared to hesitate for a few seconds, or at least to Harrison it seemed that way. Perhaps he hadn’t anticipated Rob’s challenge. Finally, though, he said, “The truth is, my people have many names for the hairy men of the woods. Most are difficult to pronounce, but they all speak of the same thing: a forest spirit made flesh – a creature that protects the land and those who live in harmony with it. However, this spirit can be wrathful to those who would seek to defile the balance. My great grandfather used to tell of one such defiler as we sat around the fire, much like we all do today.”

  Harrison looked around at the collective faces. All of the women, Paula included, were giving Wild Feather their rapt attention. Rob was listening, too, although probably for another chance to jump in and question his authority on this subject. As for Greg, judging by the glazed look in his eyes as he peered into the fire, he was in his happy place.

  “What happened?” Paula asked as Wild Feather continued with his dramatic pause.

  “Once, long ago, before the coming of the white man, when the buffalo were still plentiful on the plain,” he began, “there was a man in the tribe. He was a powerful warrior, one of their fiercest braves, but he was also prideful. After many victories in battle and countless successful hunts, this man began to boast that he had no equal. He could defeat any man and take his wives and horses. He could kill any beast and claim its flesh and hide. He laughed that the spirits were but smoke to him, and he had made far too many fires to be fearful of smoke.”

  “I know what you mean, brother,” Greg chuckled, taking another toke.

  “The elders of the tribe chastised the warrior. They said his pride would be his downfall, that he should give offerings to the spirit world so they might forgive his arrogance. But the man just laughed at their entreaties. He told them that he had earned all of his possessions by the strength of his own arms, so why should he owe the spirits anything?”

  “After the shaman’s warning, his pride grew, and he decided that perhaps the spirits owed him. Thus, he set out to take what was theirs. He began to chop more wood than his fire needed. When he hunted, he would kill more than his family could eat, then leave the rest for the birds. In all things, he grew wasteful. The elders, seeing what he was becoming, began to pray for him behind his back. They knew that the spirits were getting angry at the man’s umbrage.”

  Wild Feather paused again, making eye contact with all three girls, one after the other.

  “Finally, the Great Spirit sent one of the hairy men down from the mountains. The beast was already fearsome, but the spirits imbued it further. They made it swift so that not even the deer could outrun it. They made it strong so that not even the bear could stand against it. They made it powerful so that no arrow could pierce its hide. Its cries could be heard in the village when it was still many moons away. The tribe grew fearful as the beast approached, its howls of vengeance growing louder with every passing day.

  “Finally, the elders came to the prideful man and pointed at him. ‘This is your fault,’ they said. ‘The spirits are punishing us all for your wickedness.’ But the man laughed and told them, ‘It is just another animal. I have slain the buffalo. I have slain the bear. I will take my bow and arrow and slay, too, this beast so that I might bring back its fur to warm me by the fire.’ The next day, the prideful man packed up his weapons and set off into the woods to meet the creature face to face.” At that, he stopped telling the story and just stared into the fire.

  After a few moments of this, the girls chimed in with squeals of, “What happened next?”

  Finally, after another pause – overly dramatic, in Harrison’s opinion – he continued. “None know. Some say the creature overtook him and carried him off to Hell, where the spirits continue to punish him for his arrogance. Others claim the man slew the beast, then set off to challenge the spirits themselves. They say that he still walks the woods to this very day, such is his wrath. It was never truly known. All anyone in the tribe knew was that the beast’s screams ceased and the prideful man never returned.”

  “And then Jason and Michael Myers walked out and slaughtered the campers,” Greg added, laughing at his own joke.

  Paula, ignoring him, gave Wild Feather a wide-eyed look. “So, do you believe the story?”

  Before answering, he fed another branch into the fire, causing embers to rise up in the air. “My people have a great many stories. Some are told to frighten children, but others serve as a warning to men. When I became a man, I went on a vision quest, as all of my ancestors did. In it, I saw many things. Things that give me reason to not doubt my elders.”

  “What kind of things?” Harrison asked.

  “They are not meant to be spoken of. Each vision quest is for the brave who sees it, and him alone.” He then turned back to Paula and spoke in a low voice. “But I have seen enough to believe. I think the hairy men are out there. I can sense them. They watch us. Perhaps they watch us even now.”

  Paula shivered. Rob put his arm around her, most likely as much a defensive gesture as to keep her warm. As he did so, Harrison could have sworn he saw her pull away from him ever so slightly. Rob seemed to notice it, too, no doubt beginning to question the wisdom of coming along on this trip.

  Harrison decided that enough was enough for now. “Well then, let them watch us sleep. I’m tired, and we have a lot of walking to do tomorrow.” He stood and stretched. “Unless anyone else has any tales they’d like to freak us out with, I’d suggest we all try getting some rest.”

  Danni stood up as well. “Harrison’s right. Things will be easier with the camp set up, but we still have a lot of hiking ahead of us this week. We can save the hangovers for another day.”

  One by one, the group acknowledged their logic. They all cleaned up – even Greg, despite being a bit wobbly on his feet – then retired to their respective tents. Little did they know, Wild Feather was not too far off the mark.

  They were being watched.

  Chapter 7

  Greg was asleep almost instantly. He climbed into his sleeping bag, giggled for a few moments, then started snoring. Harrison smiled when he saw how quickly his friend had passed out. Greg liked his weed, but the dude had no tolerance whatsoever.

  Harrison bedded down on one side of him while Wild Feather did the same on the opposite end. In the dark, Harrison couldn’t help but smirk. Wild Feather’s sleeping bag was definitely not what one would expect. It was brand new and heavily insulated. He might talk a good game, but he wasn’t exactly roughing it out here.

  Still, Harrison considered, he had done a lot of assuming in the past several hours about the g
uy. Now that they had a moment away from the girls, he figured he should at least try to talk to him. Who knows? Wild Feather might turn out to be less of an asshole than he seemed to be.

  “You awake, Feather?”

  “Wild Feather. And yes, I am still awake.”

  No shit. “So, how do you know Danni?”

  “I met the fawn at the beginning of this semester in an ecology class.”

  “Yeah, about that. What’s up with the whole ‘fawn’ thing?”

  “Your sister has both the grace and purity of one,” Wild Feather stated.

  The purity thing is the part that bothers me. “So ... how long have you guys been dating?”

  There was a pause before Wild Feather replied. “Danni, Allison, and I are just friends. We are kindred spirits.”

  Harrison couldn’t help but notice that he dropped the little pet names this time. Wild Feather definitely wasn’t stupid. He apparently realized that treading lightly was probably the smart thing to do around Harrison with regards to his sister.

  “That’s good to know. That’s the way we should keep things out here ... nice and friendly.” He hadn’t meant it to come out as a threat, but he realized it probably sounded that way to Wild Feather. Oh well, he thought as he drifted to sleep, a smile slowly playing out across his face.

  * * *

  “You know, there’s plenty of room in here for two,” Rob said. He held open the flap of his sleeping bag and gave it a pat.

  “We’ve already discussed this, Robert. You know how I feel,” Paula replied, climbing into her own bedroll and proceeding to zip it shut.

  “Jeez. I just figured we could cuddle for a while.”

  “I’m not in the mood. I’m tired, and Harrison was right: it’s going to be a long day tomorrow. We should get some sleep.” She quickly turned over and began making exaggerated breathing noises.

  Rob didn’t buy it for a second, but he could tell she was in a mood. He just hoped it would pass. Although, considering the eyes she seemed to have for Danni’s friend, he had a bad feeling about it all.