June, p.10
June, page 10
A deer stood, frozen, by the dining table. It was staring directly at me. I almost started laughing as I stared the creature down.
“Get out of here, go on,” I said somewhat loudly. The deer bolted out the door, more gracefully than a land creature should be able to move. I pushed the door the rest of the way open and climbed out, surveying the damage as I emerged from my hiding place. The front door was on the ground, the hinges looking intact. It looked like the screws had ripped out of their holes. One of the dining room chairs was in pieces on the floor, the other two were on their side. The camp stove was scattered around the cabin, I saw a piece of it on my parents’ bed. I moved into their bedroom to look around. My fishing pole was broken into three pieces, and the contents of my tackle box were strewn around the room. The sheets were on the floor, and one of the window boards was pried loose, though not off all the way. My great-grandpa’s tool box sat right where it always was, still closed. That thing was a tank.
I made my way to my room, looking around. The bed was in a similar condition, and the kerosene lamp was on its side, and the table was completely destroyed. I walked back into the living room. They hadn’t touched the books, it seemed, but the games were everywhere. My heart dropped when I laid eyes on Risk. The box was torn into pieces, and the game pieces were everywhere. Half the board was near the kitchen table, the other half was in the bathroom. I had been right about the pictures, all three of them were on the ground, the glass shattered and the frames broken.
I walked over to them and retrieved each of the pictures, rolling them up carefully and putting them in my pack. It was at that moment that I realized the cabin was basically a total loss. I grabbed my great-grandpa’s tool box, put it on the porch, and started trying to lift the door up. It was shockingly heavy, but I managed to get it propped against the frame. I took the hammer and nails out of the box and began nailing the door into place as best I could. Despite it being a total loss, I wasn’t about to completely give up on the place, so I had to keep nature out as best as I could. It took a little longer than I wanted, but I managed to get the door pretty securely on there. I’d need to come back with a crew or something to fix the place up entirely, and the first thing we’d need to do was pull out the nails, but it at least didn’t feel like I was giving up on it. That comforted me a little.
After I nailed the door shut, I turned and began walking towards the mountain, rifle slung over my right shoulder and my pack securely on my back. I’d never eaten an MRE while moving before, but I was determined to get out of here as soon as possible, so I began eating one while I was walking. In all the chaos of this week I had lost track of the days, and my watch was an old analogue one that only kept track of the time, but I figured it was July 1st or 2nd by now. This was probably my best chance to get home, not that I had any choice now.
Because my cabin had been destroyed.
I fought back tears as the pangs of loss stabbed at my stomach. It was very difficult to eat the MRE while walking anyway, but it became a lot harder as I thought of my second home being gone. I couldn’t succumb to the emotions now, though, there would be time for that later. For now I needed to focus on staying alive.
I followed the familiar path into the trees, trying to keep a balance between moving swiftly and being quiet. If one had shown up right then, I didn’t really have a plan besides pull out my gun, but that hadn’t worked out too well for me so far. I wish I knew more about these things. A part of me wondered if maybe they weren’t actually interested in hurting me, that I had just done something to provoke them last night. Shooting wildly into the air was probably not my best idea. Not that it mattered anymore. I just prayed that I wasn’t being hunted.
My danger barometer of listening to the forest seemed to work pretty well so far. I had only had that one near miss since deciding on it, but that was enough for me to trust it somewhat. Without realizing it, I found myself looking for hiding places as I walked that I could easily and quickly get to. I wasn’t sure if this comforted me, made me more on edge, or just was something I found myself doing. The only thing I could say for sure was after last night, this was the most terrifying hike I had ever been on, but I had no choice, I had to get out of these woods.
I was about a quarter mile away from the cabin when the woods started getting quiet. The birds had stopped first, then the insects, then everything else. I slowed down myself and crouched behind a rock, rifle in hand and ready to fire. My eyes scanned all around me, taking particular note of what was behind me, as I didn’t want something to sneak up on me while I was focused in a different direction.
A snort followed by a grunt came from my front-right side. I narrowed my eyes to be able to focus better on that area, and I could see a brown silhouette moving slowly through some brush. Its form was indistinct, but I could sort of see hair on it. I figured it was one of those things and raised my rifle, finger off the trigger, and peered through the scope.
A rather large, almost definitely dangerous, but not unknown black bear shuffled into view past a bush, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Black bears were the type you wanted to run into, as they weren’t as hostile as brown bears, and they weren’t nearly as strong as a Sasquatch seemed to be. You still needed to take it seriously, but I slung the rifle and pulled out the bear spray instead. That would be very effective against a black bear, should I need it. The creature stopped at a bush and started licking it, then looked to be eating something off it. It was apparently a berry bush. I remembered earlier in the trip running into a black bear, and I vaguely wondered if this was the same one. It was such a relief to see something I knew, even if it was a predator.
The bear finished with the bush and sauntered farther along the path, stopping at a tree and standing up. I watched as it dug its claws into the bark and shifted to a sitting position, leaving long claw marks in its wake. What a fascinating creature this was. I wished I could get out my painting supplies and paint it, but now was obviously not the time for that.
As the beast lazily made its way through the forest, crossing the path I was using, I started to move forward again, slowly. I didn’t want to startle it, but I also wanted to keep moving. It was about 10 yards away when I passed it, the thing not even caring or knowing that I was there. I kept my bear spray at the ready, just in case, but didn’t end up needing it. A big part of me wondered if the Sasquatches and bears left each other alone, or fought over prey, or just how they interacted in general. That made me once again wonder if Sasquatch was dangerous, carnivorous, or just territorial. They were definitely one of the three.
I could barely see the black bear when I decided it was okay to turn around and keep walking at my brisk pace. The forest sounds were returning again. I wanted to be quiet, but I really wanted to get to the summit of the mountain before dark. To my knowledge, that wasn’t even possible, but I was going to try. If I could shave a day off my hike, it would increase my chances of getting home alive.
Also, I only had two MREs left. I’d definitely be hungry by the time I got to my car, as the mountain climb usually required me eating two, but I could stand to lose a few pounds, and hungry was better than . . . whatever those things wanted with me.
I froze in my tracks at that thought, not only because it was disturbing, but because I heard that fire siren-like sound again that I had heard the first day. It was far off, in fact, it sounded like it was coming from my cabin. Maybe they had tried to pay me another visit, only to find the door nailed on and the cabin empty. I sure hoped. Maybe they would think I was already long gone somehow and wouldn’t follow me. I turned around briefly and studied the path I had walked. It didn’t look like I had left any real trace of my passing, which was good.
The thing that really unnerved me about the siren that I heard was the forest quieted down when it happened. I thought back to the first day, and it had been exactly like this, even though I was far away, so I really hoped that the forest just got quiet when one called.
A loud whoop to my left startled me, and shattered the comforting illusion I had built up before then. The forest wasn’t quiet because they had called, it was quiet because they were close again. I hadn’t heard a whoop that loud outside before. In a slight panic, but trying to keep my head clear so I could think, I dove into a thick bush to my right and made myself as small as I could, hoping I was blending in enough.
The footsteps came a second later. It was pretty close, and because I had twisted around a bit as I jumped into the bush, it was coming from in front of me instead of to the left. I could smell that awful wet-dog-in-a-sewer smell that often accompanied these things. The steps got louder, and through the bush I saw it walk into the clearing in front of me. I shook my head slightly in disbelief. This was the first full on view of one I’d had so far.
It was very, very tall. I’d guess it was about seven and a half to eight feet tall. The hair on this one was a matted brown, pretty long, and very shaggy. It wasn’t facing me, so I couldn’t see what its face actually looked like, but its head was dome-shaped. The arms were very long, almost to its knees, and the hands were a light-black color.
It walked with a purpose, it seemed, keeping its head forward as it moved right to left in front of me. I was shocked at just how fast it was. It walked quickly but silently. In watching it move I realized, if it came down to it, I would have to fight. There was absolutely no way I could outrun this thing if I had to. Its walking speed was twice as fast as I could run.
Which made me think of when one had chased me into the cabin a few days earlier. It must’ve let me escape. I didn’t know why, it could’ve caught me easily. Unless, of course, it just wanted me to stop shooting, it didn’t necessarily want to hurt me. But then why break into my cabin?
Actually, that was most likely the same reason. It just wanted me to stop shooting. They seemed to really, really not like guns. Which made me wonder how they knew what they were and what they did. That would be interesting to find out.
The one in front of me was almost through the clearing when it stopped suddenly. It turned its head in the opposite direction I was in and stood up more straight than it was before. I realized it was definitely at least 8 feet tall. After looking in that direction for a second it threw back its head and whooped about five times, so loud I almost wanted to scream in return.
I crouched in my bush, wishing for the million and twelfth time this trip that I hadn’t come at all, and watched as this thing whooped another four times. After a pause, some whoops came in return from the direction of my cabin. The creature stood still for a second, almost like it was just thinking about what it had heard. Then it reached down, grabbed a large branch from the ground, and started hitting it against the tree it was near. I was amazed at what I was seeing, and wondered if any other human had ever seen anything like this before. And if someone had, if they’d lived to tell about it later.
My will to survive had been strong, but at that point it got nearly iron-clad. I was going to make it. These things weren’t going to get me, no matter how many there were or how strong or big or even fast they were. I was going to make it home, no matter what. There was a reason now, I had to tell my story. People needed to know these things were out here.
The creature in front of me suddenly turned and faced my direction, and I froze. It had a face very reminiscent of a gorilla, but the eyes were darker, and the nose was a little smaller. Its face was almost a combination of gorilla and human. I also noticed how barrel-chested it was, something I couldn’t tell from the side as much. It growled a low growl, and I was terrified its eyes were on me. They were certainly looking in my direction, but at this distance, it was hard to say what it was looking at. Whatever it was, though, the thing didn’t like it.
With a roar, it barreled through the forest directly at me. A wave of sheer panic shot through me. Everything in me wanted to scream and run, but a more sensible part of me held me in place. A memory had stirred, and I hoped it helped in this situation. If I just remained still, staring at the ground, it should stop before it got to me. So that’s what I did; it took all of the willpower I had, but I managed to stay in place as it charged directly at me. It got within about three feet and kept running, and I realized I had made a serious mistake. Despite looking reminiscent of gorillas, these things weren’t gorillas. I closed my eyes and braced for it to grab me, or tackle me, or something.
After a few seconds I opened my eyes back up, and it was on the other side of the bush, still running at full speed. It must have jumped completely over me, either not seeing me or not caring I was there. I wondered what it was running after, and then I saw it.
A deer was charging through the woods in the opposite direction as fast as it could, clearly running for its life. Apparently these things were carnivores, if the determination with which this one chased that deer was any indication. They both disappeared into the woods. I kept crouched in my bush.
“So, dad, if a gorilla ever charges you, you stay where you are and look at the ground. If you turn and run they’ll chase you down and kill you. If you stand your ground, they’ll stop, roar at you, try to intimidate you, but after that they’ll leave.” I proudly announced after closing my book on gorillas. My dad smiled.
“Well, next time that happens, I’ll remember that. Thanks for the heads up!” He threw his arm around me as we sat on the couch. “You read the most fascinating facts I’ve ever heard!”
“Thanks dad, I just like nature and animals and stuff.” I shrugged. I was ten, and we were at home. “I can’t wait until we go back to the cabin. Maybe we’ll see a gorilla.”
My dad tensed up a bit. Then he eased.
“Yeah, maybe! But I think they primarily live in the jungle, not the forest, but you never know.”
I wondered why he had gotten nervous about me mentioning seeing one at the cabin.
“Have you seen a gorilla at the cabin, dad?”
He shook his head.
“No, not a gorilla.” He shook his head. “Hey, want to help me make dinner? I think your mom would be delighted if we took the initiative and made it for all of us!” I got super excited. I loved helping my parents.
“Yeah!”
Interesting, thinking back on that conversation after everything this year. My dad had seen an ape, just not a gorilla, and that little bit of knowledge had potentially saved my life just then. I wondered if I ever got charged for real if standing my ground and not making eye contact would help.
Hopefully, I would never have to find out.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
It took me a while of remaining in that bush before I felt comfortable enough to come out. Even though I was learning more and more about these things all the time, they still gave me the creeps. I realized I didn’t actually know that much about them, I just speculated a lot of the time.
After fifteen minutes, and the forest noises being back for a little bit, I finally got up and continued my journey. The first thing I did before walking was take a swig of my canteen. I’d definitely need to stay hydrated if I wanted to hike out of here at so brisk a pace.
After walking for a while with nothing else happening, I came upon my campsite from the hike in. I stopped briefly to rest in the hollowed out pine tree. Hiking as much as I had and as fast as I had was exhausting, and I briefly considered stopping and sleeping here, since it was so well hidden. But sleeping outside, knowing what was running around out here, was a terrifying prospect. I wasn’t sure I would sleep at all that night. Maybe I should just hike right through it, but also walking around with them made me nervous.
At that moment I really, really wanted to go back to the cabin. But that wasn’t an option. I wasn’t sure if I could even get in, and I was pretty sure those nails wouldn’t hold them off again. No, returning to the cabin was not an option. Maybe if they were smart enough to know that I was leaving, they’d leave me alone. That was a comforting prospect. But I also realized it was just a hope; I had no hard evidence to support that idea at all. In fact, most of what I had seen, heard and experienced made me think that if one ever saw me out in the open, I’d just be considered dinner.
My blood ran cold for a second and I had a pit in my stomach at that thought. I checked my watch, I had about 3 hours until dark. There was a good chance I could reach the summit of the mountain by dark, find a good spot to hide, and wait until daylight with my gun at the ready. That was, if I got going right away.
I decided on that plan and started walking, after holding my breath for a second and making sure the forest was alive with noise. Once again I tried to keep a brisk pace, ignoring my stomach growling and my knees beginning to ache. I was in pretty good hiking shape, but this was pushing myself physically more than I probably ever had. I reached the base of the mountain shortly and, after telling myself once again that I could do this, and my life almost certainly depended on it, I began to climb up the side.
My legs were decidedly against this plan. They all but screamed at me to rest, to sleep for the night, but I refused. I didn’t want to end up in the stomach of some creature that until this month had only been a myth as far as I was concerned, so they would have to shut up and let me scale this mountainside.
I’d been climbing for about half an hour when the knocking started. It was the same as it had always been, three knocks, and a pause, answered by three more knocks. I noticed this time that the first knocks came from near my cabin, and the answers came from the other side of the mountain, making them harder to hear.
Lovely, I thought, they are on both sides.
I felt the anger rising up again, as all I wanted in life at that moment was for these things to just leave me alone. As a kid I had been mildly fascinated by Bigfoot; as an adult, I absolutely hated their entire existence. I knew one thing for absolute certain: I would never be able to watch that stupid movie ever again.
