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Authors: Erik Williams
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lay on its back to the side of the boulder. “Fell when the branch broke?”
“Hit the rock on the way down. Sounded like it snapped its back.”
Could we be that lucky? Russell thought. He squinted, trying to improve his vision. It took a few moments to adjust but his night vision sharpened enough to make out the beast’s chest rising and falling in shallow waves.
“It’s still breathing.”
She sighed. “Maybe we can get down and head for the Loop.”
“You want to risk your neck that it won’t wake up as soon as you hit the ground?” She didn’t answer. “Me neither.”
“What happens when it wakes up?”
“It’ll probably go bat shit crazy and try to get us again.” Because it’s a junkie and hasn’t made it through the withdrawals yet. “Hopefully it’ll go away once it realizes it can’t reach us.”
“Or it’ll just knock the whole damn tree down.”
Russell leaned back against the trunk and wondered if the thing could actually knock something this big down. Then he remembered what it did to Mickey. If it could rip someone apart so easily in a drug-fiend craze, what was a tree to it once the withdrawal got worse? No, they needed to start thinking of another way to get out of this mess. Waiting up here wasn’t the answer.
He wished he had his pipe. A hit would help. It’d clear the cob webs. Help him think straight. Definitely would ease the fire raging in his muscles and joints.
“You’re bleeding,” she said and pointed at his shoulder where a section of his shirt had been torn away.
Russell checked it out. Nice little gash but nothing too bad. He motioned at her forehead. “You, too.”
She wiped more out of her eyes and pulled a tissue from her jacket pocket and pushed it against the wound. “What’s your name, by the way?”
“Huh?”
“Your name, what is it?”
“Russell. Yours?”
“Persephone. Everyone calls me Seph, though.”
“Okay.” He cleared his throat. “I wish I could say it’s nice to meet you.”
Seph chuckled. “Yeah, me too. Pretty hard to believe.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
Russell chewed on his bottom lip and tried to figure out what to do next. They couldn’t stay up in the tree much longer. But he had no idea what to do next.
“I think we need to find a way—”
Russell broke off when he heard movement. He looked down to find Bigfoot rolling onto its side.
MANNY
It hadn’t been hard to track and locate. The continuous pounding of the earth. The labored breathing followed by frenzied sniffing. The snapping of limbs and bouncing off of tree trunks. Anyone could have found it. When Manny did, he couldn’t believe his eyes.
It’s Bigfoot , he thought when he first saw it through the scope. The moonlight illuminated the crazed eyes and savage maw of the beast. He couldn’t make out much more than that. There was little doubt what it was. The facial features, prominent brow, and an almost cone-like skull were all too familiar from the thousands of artist renderings seen on television specials and tabloid journal reports. Woman Escapes Bigfoot in Northern California with a pencil sketch of the monster under the headline. Or one of those Monster Hunter -type shows on Discovery or History Channel with all its fancy computer animation. There were differences here and there. More hair, less hair, bigger teeth. But essentially the same across the media.
Manny hated to admit it but they’d been pretty much dead on with their renderings. Which meant there had been some truth to those loonies and their encounters. At least a few of them.
Now I’m one of the loonies , he thought.
He remained downwind of the creature, staying about three hundred feet away. He kept it in the crosshairs when he could. He didn’t plan on shooting it but if it caught on to him and decided to charge, he didn’t want to be surprised. If he had to fire, he wasn’t sure the bullet would have an impact. Not a center mass shot, at
“Hit the rock on the way down. Sounded like it snapped its back.”
Could we be that lucky? Russell thought. He squinted, trying to improve his vision. It took a few moments to adjust but his night vision sharpened enough to make out the beast’s chest rising and falling in shallow waves.
“It’s still breathing.”
She sighed. “Maybe we can get down and head for the Loop.”
“You want to risk your neck that it won’t wake up as soon as you hit the ground?” She didn’t answer. “Me neither.”
“What happens when it wakes up?”
“It’ll probably go bat shit crazy and try to get us again.” Because it’s a junkie and hasn’t made it through the withdrawals yet. “Hopefully it’ll go away once it realizes it can’t reach us.”
“Or it’ll just knock the whole damn tree down.”
Russell leaned back against the trunk and wondered if the thing could actually knock something this big down. Then he remembered what it did to Mickey. If it could rip someone apart so easily in a drug-fiend craze, what was a tree to it once the withdrawal got worse? No, they needed to start thinking of another way to get out of this mess. Waiting up here wasn’t the answer.
He wished he had his pipe. A hit would help. It’d clear the cob webs. Help him think straight. Definitely would ease the fire raging in his muscles and joints.
“You’re bleeding,” she said and pointed at his shoulder where a section of his shirt had been torn away.
Russell checked it out. Nice little gash but nothing too bad. He motioned at her forehead. “You, too.”
She wiped more out of her eyes and pulled a tissue from her jacket pocket and pushed it against the wound. “What’s your name, by the way?”
“Huh?”
“Your name, what is it?”
“Russell. Yours?”
“Persephone. Everyone calls me Seph, though.”
“Okay.” He cleared his throat. “I wish I could say it’s nice to meet you.”
Seph chuckled. “Yeah, me too. Pretty hard to believe.”
“That’s one way of putting it.”
Russell chewed on his bottom lip and tried to figure out what to do next. They couldn’t stay up in the tree much longer. But he had no idea what to do next.
“I think we need to find a way—”
Russell broke off when he heard movement. He looked down to find Bigfoot rolling onto its side.
MANNY
It hadn’t been hard to track and locate. The continuous pounding of the earth. The labored breathing followed by frenzied sniffing. The snapping of limbs and bouncing off of tree trunks. Anyone could have found it. When Manny did, he couldn’t believe his eyes.
It’s Bigfoot , he thought when he first saw it through the scope. The moonlight illuminated the crazed eyes and savage maw of the beast. He couldn’t make out much more than that. There was little doubt what it was. The facial features, prominent brow, and an almost cone-like skull were all too familiar from the thousands of artist renderings seen on television specials and tabloid journal reports. Woman Escapes Bigfoot in Northern California with a pencil sketch of the monster under the headline. Or one of those Monster Hunter -type shows on Discovery or History Channel with all its fancy computer animation. There were differences here and there. More hair, less hair, bigger teeth. But essentially the same across the media.
Manny hated to admit it but they’d been pretty much dead on with their renderings. Which meant there had been some truth to those loonies and their encounters. At least a few of them.
Now I’m one of the loonies , he thought.
He remained downwind of the creature, staying about three hundred feet away. He kept it in the crosshairs when he could. He didn’t plan on shooting it but if it caught on to him and decided to charge, he didn’t want to be surprised. If he had to fire, he wasn’t sure the bullet would have an impact. Not a center mass shot, at
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