“Finally, there are the castings I made of the prints.” He carefully removed two bubble-wrapped objects from the briefcase, closed the case, and set it on the floor. “The prints do not show the telltale signs of fakery.” He went on to describe the same details Slater and Bones had discussed at the bar.
When Gambles finished his analysis of the print castings, Slater asked a final question.
“Do you believe the skunk ape is real and lives in this area?”
Gambles looked directly into the camera and gave a firm nod.
“Absolutely.”
Chapter 5
They parked in a gravel lot just inside the Myakka River State Park and hiked from there, following a walking trail south along the river bank until it ended. After that, they relied on Gambles’ directions and a topographical map he had provided. Bones had plenty of experience with this sort of thing so they had little trouble making their way to the spot the researcher had described — a place where a rutted dirt road, little used, met the river.
Here, the Myakka River made a sharp bend. A sandy shoal protruded out into it, and a mud bank lay on the other side of the water, rising in a gentle slope up to the dense forest beyond. Birdsong and the gentle rush of the river filled Bones’ ears. He could almost forget they were only a few miles from civilization.
“Do you think this is the right spot?” Slater asked, looking around.
“This is definitely it.” He pointed to the location on the topographical map where the winding blue ribbon of the Myakka formed a loop. “Here’s where we are on the map. It matches perfectly.”
“In that case, let’s get started.” Slater took up a position near the water’s edge and waited for Dave and Carly to get their equipment ready. Dave had left his large camera locked in the trunk of his car and was now using a small, handheld video recorder, while Carly opted for a portable digital recorder.
When Dave gave Slater the thumbs-up she recorded a brief segment, introducing this as the spot where Gambles had found the skunk ape tracks and describing the setting. Once the recording was finished, they began a search of the area.
While the others scoured the shoals and the bank on their side of the river, Bones waded across to inspect the opposite side. The water was shallow, little more than ankle — deep, and it felt cool and refreshing on his bare feet. When he was halfway across, he turned and called back to Slater.
“What do you say we let those two keep looking around while you and I do a little skinny dipping?”
“Keep dreaming.” Slater didn’t even look up from her searching.
“Maybe later then.” Bones turned around and froze. Even at a distance of twenty feet or more he could clearly make out a set of long-toed footprints on the mud bank. At first glance they appeared to be the twin of those Gambles had found.
“No way. Hey, Slater, get over here!” He turned and beckoned to her.
“Give it a rest. I’m trying to work here and I don’t have time to… ”
“I found a track.”
“Really?” Slater looked in the direction he pointed and her jaw dropped. “Fantastic! Dave, get over… ” She paused and cocked her head to the side. “What’s that noise?”
From somewhere in the distance came the low rumble of an engine, growing louder as it drew near. Moments later, a monster truck bounded into view, bouncing on its raised suspension as its oversized tires rolled through the ruts of the overgrown dirt road. Dave and Carly leaped to the side as the truck shot down the bank, fishtailed on the sand, and sped into the water. It roared past Bones, drenching him in cold river water.
Bones cursed and sprang back. He shook the water out of his eyes just in time to see the truck rumble of the mud bank, lose traction, and slide backward.
Right over the footprints.
“Are you freaking kidding me?” he yelled. He stomped toward the truck, but the driver threw the vehicle into reverse and back straight at him, forcing Bones to spring out of the way again. The driver did a donut, churning up a wall of water that wash the mud bank clean and sprayed Bones with another cold, wet wave. The truck shot back across the river toward the old dirt road but skidded to a halt in the sand when Slater ran directly into its path.
“What the hell do you idiots think you are doing?” she screamed. “You almost killed three of my people.”
The doors opened and two men stepped out of the truck. The driver was bald with a bushy red beard and a bowling ball body. The passenger was a tall, brown-haired man with a rat tail and several gaps in his teeth.
“You got a problem, girl?” Rat Tail folded his sinewy arms and spat a wad of phlegm on the sand.
Slater didn’t give an inch. She stood with her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes, staring daggers up at the taller men. “I just told you what my problem is. Are you deaf or just stupid?”
“I didn’t expect no sass from a girl as pretty as you,” Rat Tail cackled. “Maybe for Miss Short-haired Lesbian over there.” He inclined his head toward Carly, who held out her hands, frowned, and mouthed, I’m not gay.
Slater trembled with rage. “We’re conducting research here and you morons just screwed it up. I’ve got half a mind to sue you. I hope your mom’s double-wide is worth something, or else we’ll have to take your neon beer sign and your NASCAR memorabilia.”
“This one’s got a mouth on her,” Bowling Ball observed. “I think somebody should shut it.”
“I can’t tell you how much I’d love to see you try.” Bones said, stepping up behind the men and giving each a shove in the back. He didn’t put much force into the effort — just enough to divert their attention from Slater.
The two men rounded on him in unison but hesitated when their eyes fell on him. Bowling Ball was as broad of shoulder as Bones and Rat Tail nearly as tall, but neither had his combination of height and breadth. This, however, did not stymie them in the least. They exchanged grins.
“Well, it looks like it’s going to be a good day after all,” bowling ball said. “You see, we came here to drink beer and… ”
“I know, I know. Drink some beer and kick some ass and you’re almost out of beer. Dude, do you know how old that movie is? Come up with some new material or go back to kissing your boyfriend.”
The man frowned, trying to process the insult.
“You know, you talk pretty big for a man who’s outnumbered two to one, Indian Boy,” Rat Tail said.
“I’m surprised you can count that high,” Bones said. “I guess that second grade education was good for something after all.”
“And it’s not two to one. It’ll be two on two.” Dave handed his camera to Carly and made to join Bones.
“Thanks, Bro, but it’s not your fight. How about you get the girls out of here?”
Dave hesitated. Bones could tell the young cameraman was struggling between a sense of duty and the natural aversion to of violence common in most people. Normal people, that was. But Bones was hardly normal.
“Seriously, dude. You don’t need to watch this and neither do they.”
Bowling Ball chuckled. “You don’t want your little girlfriend to see you get your ass kicked?” he taunted as he and Rat Tail advanced shoulder-to-shoulder.
Bones looked the man in the eye and smiled. “Not exactly.”
He lashed out with a vicious sidekick that caught Rat Tail in the gut. Taken by surprise, the tall man folded forward and crumbled to his knees. He knelt there, arms pressed to his stomach, struggling to catch his breath.
Bowling Ball’s reaction time was better than that of his friend. He swung a wild haymaker at Bones’ head. Bones moved back just enough for the blow to miss his chin by half an inch, and then he drove his fist into the exposed temple of his off-balance opponent. Bowling Ball wobbled backward. Bones followed with a knee to the man’s groin, a blow which sent him to the ground, and then a roundhouse kick to his head that turned out his lights.