Ethan looked up ahead to the next track and tried to walk alongside them and stretch his legs to match. After two attempts it was clear that his legs simply were not long enough to match the stride.
‘Jesus,’ one of the soldiers muttered, ‘that thing must be ten feet tall.’
Dana and Proctor dashed breathlessly into the clearing, coming up short as they spotted the huge prints. Proctor almost laughed in disbelief as he literally dropped to his knees alongside one of them.
‘Oh my God,’ he whispered reverentially. ‘Oh my God. Oh my God.’
Dana Ford knelt next to him and draped one arm across his shoulder.
‘This is it,’ she uttered. ‘This is the one. A new species. We’ve discovered a new species of hominid.’
‘I’ve never seen a print so clear, so fresh,’ Proctor gasped. ‘We must make casts, right now.’
‘There’s no time,’ Kurt Agry said as he marched into the clearing and cast an uninterested eye across the prints. ‘You wanted my man off this mountain, we gotta move now.’
Ethan looked around at the clearing and then back in the direction of the camp.
‘This was where it was watching us from, last night,’ he said, and looked at Duran. ‘The one we saw.’
Duran nodded in agreement, but he was busy examining the branch of the fallen cedar with Mary. Ethan stepped up to join them, closely followed by Dana and Proctor.
‘Oh my God,’ Proctor whispered again, seemingly in some kind of trance of excitement.
Ethan looked at the branch, which protruded vertically from the main trunk about six feet. As thick as Ethan’s thigh, the branch was contorted in a strange pirouette about halfway up, yanked around on itself until the upper half of the branch was parallel with the ground. Dense fibers of bark and wood had splintered outward and twisted the elbow of the branch, but it had not broken or snapped.
‘What the hell is it?’ Kurt snapped as he stormed over and looked at the branch.
Duran Wilkes ran his hand gently up across the bark and then stood back from it.
‘It’s rage,’ he said.
It took a moment for Ethan to realize what he was actually looking at. The immensely strong branch had been twisted as easily as Ethan might twist a straw in his bare hands, bent sideways with such grip that it had not snapped off or otherwise shattered.
Dana Ford stepped reverentially closer to the branch and touched it gently with one hand.
‘Stress relief,’ she said finally. ‘Like Duran said. It’s taking out its frustration about something on the tree. Do you have any idea how much force it must take to do something like this?’
‘Why would it do it, though?’ Lopez asked, gesturing back toward the camp. ‘You think that’s why it attacked us and trashed our equipment last night?’
‘Different species of animals show signs of stress in different ways,’ Proctor replied. ‘Cats lick their fur or excessively mark their territory, for instance. These creatures, whatever they are, seem to twist and bend branches. There’s no other explanation for it, as they would not expend energy like this without good reason.’
Ethan looked around them at the forest.
‘It knew what it was doing enough to plan an attack.’
‘We’re in its territory,’ Lopez guessed. ‘You don’t get a lot of humans this far off the trails, so maybe it got upset?’
Dana Ford shook her head slowly.
‘The stress relief here I can understand, but the attack last night doesn’t make any sense. If it wanted us to move on, surely it would have remained silent and just let us go on our merry way. That seems to have been what these creatures have done in the past. Either that or they’ve left the area, because human encounters out here are so rare.’
‘Rare for us,’ Duran Wilkes said quietly. ‘Just because we don’t see them, doesn’t mean they don’t see us. Humans aren’t that good at living in the wild anymore because so few of us do it for any length of time. We’ve lost the ability to sense what’s around us. These sasquatch live out here permanently and probably have done for tens of thousands of years. They’re about as in tune with their environment as it’s possible to get and probably are stumbling over noisy, stupid humans almost every day. That might be stressful for such a quiet, solitary creature.’
Kurt Agry shoved his way to the front of the group.
‘Getting your skull crushed is stressful, in case you hadn’t noticed. I don’t give a damn what these things are out here, what they want or what you all think we should give them. Right now I’ve got to get one of my men off this mountain and then finish what we came here to do. Now you can all either stand here and sing your happy fucking songs about how at one with the world these creatures are, or we can all get on with our jobs. What’s it going to be?’
Dana Ford stepped forward. ‘If we want to survive this, we need to understand what we’re up against. Isn’t that what you soldiers are taught? Know your enemy?’
‘If my enemy,’ Agry snarled, ‘is a nine-foot-tall bear then that’s all I need to know. Thing that big, it’s a wonder hunters haven’t shot dozens of them by now, so excuse me if I don’t believe your ape-man stories.’
Duran’s aged features creased into a crooked smile.
‘Oldest excuse in the book,’ he said. ‘How come hunters haven’t shot one of these before now. You want answers to that? People think that the forests here are crawling with hunters and poachers, but that’s dead wrong. The wilderness is far too big, and unless you’re walking the forests in-season you won’t see one. Hunters are also under all kinds of restrictions: where they can hunt, when they can hunt, what weapons they can use and so on. Even those that do spot a Bigfoot say their first reaction is not to shoot because the damned things look so human, despite their size.’
‘Ninety eight per cent of hunters don’t poach,’ Proctor added. ‘Most observe all local laws, which means that most of the time they’re out in the forests they’re poorly equipped to take down something as large as sasquatch. The hunting dogs that often accompany them are trained to track certain scents like elk or whatever and ignore all others, not track any scent they encounter. Besides, a creature like sasquatch would likely see them coming long before they got a decent shot off: they seem to avoid humans wherever possible and move off silently at high speed, too quick to track down.’
‘Sure,’ Agry muttered, ‘like I’d not take a shot at something as big and famous. Take one of these things down and it’s fortune city.’
‘Maybe,’ Dana Ford said. ‘Except if you killed a nine-hundred-pound primate miles from anywhere, how would you get it home? A body will decay rapidly, and photographs are always open to interpretation. Only thing that would guarantee you fame and fortune is a live specimen or excellent footage of one.’ Dana smiled at the sergeant. ‘Virtually every person who has set out to shoot and kill a sasquatch has ended up bringing only a camera with them, because a dead sasquatch would be close to useless in every respect, financially or otherwise, not to mention the social and moral disgust you’d eventually receive. Would you shoot a chimpanzee in cold blood?’
Agry turned away from them with a sneer. ‘If it had just killed two of my men, you’re damned right I would.’
Dana Ford and Proctor looked at each other before they turned and headed back toward the camp. Kurt Agry ignored the apprehensive looks on the faces of his men.
‘Let’s move out!’
Ethan watched as the soldiers marched away back toward the camp until he, Lopez, Duran and Mary stood alone by the prints and the fallen cedar trunk.
‘What’s his rush?’ Lopez asked. ‘Only time limit we’ve got is between now and the Sheriff’s Department charging Jesse with homicide. Sure, we need to get Simmons off the mountain, but Kurt and his little army are only supposed to be here to watch our backs.’