As Laine stoically trudged the shoreline, Holloway jabbered incessantly about the wallow, what could have made it, and how rare such a thing must be. He wondered if there were more around and if maybe more than one creature made them or used them. Aston couldn’t deny his curiosity, the thought that even one thing big enough to make that indentation might possibly be around was staggering. He had looked closely while measuring, desperately seeking some sign the wallow was man-made, some extended gag by Holloway to go along with his faked photographs. The man certainly had the resources to take them all for a giant prank, the mother of all candid camera shows. But nothing about the giant dent had shown anything but authenticity.
He glanced at Slater walking beside him and saw her eyes narrowed, her brow slightly furrowed. She looked nervous as she picked her way between the rocks and trod carefully on the slippery mud.
“You okay?” he asked.
She flashed him a grin. “Sure. Just a little unused to the terrain. I really don’t want to fall on my ass in this!” She flicked at the slimy mud with the toe of one boot.
Aston smiled and nodded, but thought she was hiding a deeper anxiety. The back of his neck tickled, discomfort made his stomach tight. He glanced once over his shoulder, caught Dave’s raised eyebrow and gave the cameraman a friendly nod. He looked past Dave and Carly to the tree line some forty-odd feet from the water’s edge, undulating randomly back and forth. He felt as though they were being watched.
Pull your shit together, Sam, he chided, returning his eyes forward, scanning for any other signs of their mysterious giant.
The crunch and squelch of their boots and the gentle lapping of the lake was their only accompaniment for several minutes. Even Holloway had ceased his incessant babbling. Aston looked behind them again, the flesh of his back creeping. Why the hell was he so spooked by this place? They would surely find a rational explanation for the huge wallow. Science had proven to him time and again that the wish-fulfillment of fantasy was never as likely as the dull facts of evidence. And yet, even in the most mundane scientific discovery, there was wonder to be found. He didn’t understand why people insisted on the fantastic when the real world was as amazing as it was.
“Did you hear that?” Slater said. She had stopped walking and dropped a couple of steps behind as she stared up into the trees, only ten paces or so from them at this point.
“Hear what?” Laine turned in a slow circle, eyes narrowed.
There was a distinct rustle in the shadows, a sharp snap of a twig breaking.
“There’s something back there!” Slater said in a harsh whisper. She backed up to rejoin Aston.
He tried to slow his suddenly racing heart and slipped his Bowie knife from its sheath on his belt. With the memory of the wallow, a knife felt woefully inadequate.
The rustle and snapping came again, something heavy pushing through the branches not far from them. Holloway produced a pistol and tension ratcheted up as everyone seemed to crouch, as if ready to run.
“Are you getting this?” Slater hissed to Dave.
The cameraman nodded rapidly, panning his lens back and forth slowly along thirty feet or so of tree line.
The sounds increased rapidly and more branches thrashed as a dark shadow burst out onto the shoreline. Slater yelped and Aston raised his knife high as Dave pinned the thing with his camera. Relief washed through Aston in a tide as the big reindeer spotted them. Its eyes went wide and it bucked and took off along the shore at a gallop, kicking up mud behind it.
Holloway lowered his gun, laughing. They all muttered and chuckled, berating themselves for their nerves. Aston slipped his knife away and noticed Laine wore a strange expression, almost disappointment. He would have expected that more from Holloway, but the local man seemed more annoyed than relieved. He was the actual cryptozoologist in the party, Aston reminded himself.
“I don’t think we’re going to find much wandering around like this,” Slater said. “Perhaps we should focus more of our attention back there.”
“I don’t know that there’s more to find,” Aston said.
“Not on land, no. But we can dive.”
“We?” He had a hard time envisioning Slater subjecting her hair to the depredations of the murky lake water. “Really?”
She flashed him the sweetest smile. “Scared I’ll show you up with my superior skills?”
By the time Joaquin had ferried everyone back to the Merenneito and they’d made safe their research thus far, it was well past noon. They gathered in the galley for lunch, another skill of Joaquin’s displayed. Aston was beginning to wonder if there was anything the large Latino couldn’t do with quiet aplomb.
After a good feed they went below to inspect the gear. Slater’s knowledge was impressive as they donned dry suits and respirators.
“You’ve done this before obviously,” Aston observed.
“I’ve enjoyed diving since I was a teen. It’s a bit of a hobby.”
Aston grinned. “Yeah? Me too.”
“This water will be damned cold, even in that state-of-the-art gear,” Holloway said as they settled the last of their equipment. “These cameras will work perfectly in all conditions, but you may not. Keep an eye on each other.”
Aston nodded. “Good advice. Let’s go.”
They made final checks and then moved to the dive platform and tipped in. The pressure of the water embraced them, and its temperature, not much above freezing even in spring, made itself instantly known even through their suits. They fired up the cameras and lit the flashlights mounted on them. The arcs of brightness cut a swathe through the water, highlighting tiny drifting debris and small, jerking creatures flitting by.
Daylight only penetrated the first six feet or so and they sank down into the murky gloom with slow, lazy kicks of their fins, bubbles tumbling up and away as they went. Aston pointed his light to the lake bed and panned it across the silty substrate. Rocks and clusters of gravel broke up the smoothness, and then a ridge of dark stone made a kind of lip. He paddled over to it and had a moment of vertigo as the sloping banks gave way to a drop of significant depth, disappearing into darkness well beyond the reach of his meager flashlight. He swam out into the open water a little to look back at the drop-off and wondered if there was the likelihood of caves down there. It seemed entirely possible. Big ones too, given the depths.
As he looked back up the shallow rise to the water’s edge he spotted a couple of deep grooves in the mud, as though something had recently dragged itself along there. Something huge. He frowned, more concerned than ever that they might actually find something after all and just what the hell that thing might be. He was simply letting his camera run, but Slater was actively moving back and forth, collecting better footage. She came back from the shallower water, following one of the deep grooves back to the steep drop. She jerked in the water, bubbles escaping in a rush. She fumbled and nearly dropped her camera. Gathering herself, she gestured frantically at Aston to join her.
His heart raced as he kicked over and looked to where she pointed. Something was wedged between two rocks. He swung his flashlight over it and realized it was a brown leather hiking boot. Why had that caused Slater such a shock? As he circled it and his light penetrated the top of the boot he saw exactly what. Sticking out from the leather, nibbled by fish, was a half inch of ankle, the severed leg bone stark white as it poked up into the cloudy water.