Experiment in Terror 06 Into the Hollow (17 page)

BOOK: Experiment in Terror 06 Into the Hollow
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My God, why did I drink so much bourbon?

My God. What the fucking hell did I do last night?

My eyes widened at the sudden memory of groping Dex in just my bra and underwear and I jumped in my bed, as if I could somehow escape it.

He smiled at my reaction. “Remembering something?”

“Oh my God,” I groaned and lay my head back down on the pillow, covering my eyes with my palms. “Oh my God.”

“I thought you’d say that,” he said.

“Oh no,” I mumbled rolling over. “I am just…oh God, bury me in a dark hole somewhere.”

“Why are you so embarrassed?” he asked playfully. “So you passed out during an attempted blowjob. Who doesn’t?”

My insides recoiled and my body went hot with shame. I let out a whimper as more images came back to me. “You were trying to stop me.”

“Trying is the key word here,” he said and he tapped the table where I saw a mug and a couple of painkillers. “Come now, sit up Miss Palomino. There’s some tea here with hair of the dog. It’ll make it better.”

“It won’t make everything better,” I cried out softly and slowly brought myself to a sitting position. I eyed him, my eyes having trouble focusing. “You wouldn’t let me do it.”

“You sound amazed. No, I was trying to not let you. But had you not passed out, I don’t know what would have happened. Let me tell you something though.” He pointed at me and his eyes darkened. “As your friend, as your roommate, and I suppose your part-time lover, please don’t do that to me again. I don’t want to be in that position.”

I snorted caustically, even though I felt like a few particles in my brain came loose. “You don’t like saying no? I don’t believe it.”

He passed the mug to me and pressed the pills into my hand, hard. “Well believe it. I don’t like saying no to you. Especially not like that. I’ve spent the morning gathering my balls from the floor and I’m sure the others aren’t too happy with all the time I was spending in the outhouse.”

A twinge of guilt tugged at my core but I ignored it. “Did it feel good to turn me down?”

He frowned. “I don’t think you get it, Perry. It felt terrible. I still feel terrible. You presented yourself to me like a dinner before dying and I had to say no to that?”

I didn’t know how to pose the next question delicately, so I just came out and said it.

“If asked you to,” I said, my voice low so no one else in the cabin would hear my crudeness, “would you fuck me right now?”

He raised his brows, either in surprise at my vulgarity or at the question itself.

“I don’t think you’ve ever asked a stupider question.”

“Then why wouldn’t you last night?” I felt so small asking it and buried my voice with a sip of the tea. It was sweet and strong and good and I felt sour and weak and bad.

“You still don’t know?” He looked bewildered and tugged at his hair with annoyance. “Because you weren’t sober. You were as drunk as I’ve ever seen you.”

“So?”

“So? This might come as a shock but as I told you last night, I’m not about to take advantage of you.”

“Even if I wanted you to?”

He leaned forward on his knees and clasped his hands together. He turned his head and looked me dead in the eye, mouth drawn in a tight line. “Perry, when I fuck you, you’re going to want it. And you’re going to be sober. I don’t want just your body in all of this. I want everything. Your soul too.”

“That’s a pretty tall order,” I said breathlessly. His words were causing butterflies to fly loose in my stomach.

“I know,” he said determinedly. “And it’s something I am willing to work for.”

We elapsed into a somewhat awkward silence as I swallowed back the pills with the hot liquid. Everything about our relationship was so confusing now. But then again, when hadn’t we been confusing, after everything we had been through. He was right when he called me his friend, his roommate and his part-time lover. I felt the same way about him, even though my brain screamed at me not to. I wanted sex from him and that was all. That
had
to be all. I had to remember that above all else. And I had to remind myself that it was OK to just want sex. Surely, he didn’t really need my soul. He didn’t deserve every part of me.

I sighed. “Well. Thank you for saying no.”

He straightened up and looked away. “You’re welcome. Thank you for passing out.”

Then he got to his feet and left the room.

 

~~~

 

Dex had been kind enough to let me sleep through breakfast. When I emerged out of my room, fully-dressed and ready for my voyage to the outhouse, only the lingering smells of fried pork and eggs remained in the kitchen. Christina was busy doing the dishes and shot me a cheeky look.

“You’ve seen better days,” she commented with her gap-toothed smile.

I nodded gently; any extra movement was making my veins press against my skull. I did my best to look presentable by soaking my face in the ice cold wash basin for a few minutes and wearing a load of blush and undereye concealer but this was one of those things I guess you couldn’t hide.

“Where is everyone else?” I asked, carefully pulling on my boots.

She shrugged as she wiped down the cast iron pan. “I think they’re outside looking over Mitch’s guns.”

I opened my mouth then shut it again, feeling uneasy.

She was watching me. “What?”

I looked around the cabin even though I knew no one was in earshot and came closer to her.

“Is Mitch all right? I mean he’s a bit…”

“Intense?” she supplied.

“That, yes. He kind of creeps me out.”

Christina looked grim. “That’s Mitch. I stay away from his gross ass as much as possible.”

“But are Dex and I going to be safe with him?”

She seemed to think that over. “Even though he doesn’t believe it exists, if you’re ever attacked by the Sasquatch, or any kind of wild animal, you couldn’t do better than Mitch.”

It sounded like she wasn’t finishing her sentence.

“Otherwise?” I asked.

“You’ve got your boyfriend with you. You’ll be fine.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said quickly.

She rolled her eyes. “Right.”

I didn’t have time to explain and I had a feeling she must have had some inkling about my drunken shenanigans last night – something I didn’t feel like revisiting – so I grabbed my coat and stepped out into the cold morning.

They say everything always looks better in the light of day but the area around the cabin looked just as ominous and desolate as it did at night. The sky was a moody grey and the only brightness came from the few inches of snow that had fallen overnight. In the distance, beyond the tall, suffocating reach of the fir trees, were the jagged white peaks reaching into the sky, their sides marred by slashes of dark rock.

I shuffled my way through the white powder to the outhouse and got my business done as quickly as possible. The near freezing temperatures definitely kept the smell and grossness at bay, but my ass ended up almost getting frostbite.

I had just emerged and was washing my hands in a clump of snow when I heard the men emerge from around the cabin.

“Perry, you’re awake,” Rigby said as he and Dex came into view, Mitch behind them. Naturally he was holding a shotgun in his demented arms. “Thought we might not see you today.”

I avoided Dex’s eyes, knowing they were swimming with delight, and put on my best face. “I feel great. How about we get started?”

“You don’t want breakfast?” Dex asked.

I kept smiling. Me hungover? Me positively mortified at my behavior last night? Get out of town. “I’m good.”

Rigby nodded. “Then let’s take a little walk, what do you think? I’d like to leave you with some idea of what to look for.”

Dex folded his arms and looked at him sternly. “And fill us in on the rest of your story.”

“Stories,” Rigby corrected. “All true.”

I didn’t need to know that Dex was imploring me with his eyes to get the camera, so I quickly jumped back inside the cabin and got the equipment ready. Christina watched on with amusement as I clearly didn’t know what I was doing, my hands cold and fumbling. She told me she wasn’t coming with us though, and was going to stay behind at the cabin. It struck me as a little dangerous considering what had happened to her, but I guess going off with us as Rigby filled the lens with more horror stories wasn’t the best either.

When I came back to the men, Mitch looked pumped and impatient, like he was jacked up on coke and ready to kill something. Even though that kind of attitude was probably preferable when you’re seeking out a mythical beast like Sasquatch, it didn’t make me feel any better.

We set out walking down a shale-strewn slope but my boots started sliding on the fresh snow. Before I fell to the jagged ground, Dex was at my side, grasping my arm and keeping me steady. I shot him a look of gratitude and was surprised to see a grave, strangely solemn, glint in his eyes. He kept his hand around my elbow, even though I was watching the terrain more carefully now. Still, I didn’t feel like shrugging him off.

After we navigated the hill, we leveled out and came toward a rather ominous sight: A forest of soaring fir trees, their tops hunched over like they were huddling from the cold. In between the trees was a dark hollow, a path that led into the belly of the beast. It seemed like a rough and fathomless passage and a chilling breeze swept out from it, tossing back my hair and stinging my eyes.

“Are we going in there?” I asked quietly, knowing we were and not caring that it was a stupid question.

Rigby marched on, following behind Mitch, and raised his hand in the air dismissively.

“It was in the hollow that I first saw the footprint,” he said.

I exchanged a look with Dex whose grip was tightening on my elbow.

“You scared?” I teased him in a whisper.

He rolled his eyes and let go of my arm, brushing past me to catch up with the others. I went after him, adjusting the camera in my hand, not too happy about being the last one.

Now that we were at a lower elevation than the cabin, the amount of snow was reduced to a thin trace and inside the hollow of trees the ground was frozen but bare. It crunched loudly under my feet and echoed despite the faint whistling from the wind that seemed to be born from blackness. With the overhanging trees blocking out all light from the sky, it felt like we were entering the dark Mines of Moria and looking ahead at the three men I was with, I knew none of them would make a good Gandalf substitute.

We walked cautiously through the forest for what seemed like forever, though was probably only a few minutes, until Rigby brought us to a stop. I looked around and saw nothing but the black shapes of trees – no way out and no way in. The light here was a dusky grey and I could barely make out the color of my red scarf.

Rigby kneeled down and swiped his gloved hands along the ground at the edge of the rugged trail.

“Here is where I took the cast of the footprint,” he said and took his hands away. I squinted hard at the shape on the ground. It was just a few indents in hardened earth, marked by what looked to be remnants of dried plaster.

I felt a hard jab in my side and looked up to see Dex wielding his elbow like a weapon, motioning to my camera.

“All right, all right,” I muttered and quickly turned it on. I fiddled with the settings to try and make the most of the low light until Dex’s hand took over the buttons and in a few seconds, my screen glowed brighter.

I mumbled a defensive “thank you” and he stepped out to join Rigby at his side.

With the camera now recording their grainy images, Rigby told Dex the rest of his encounters with the Beast. After the incident outside the cabin, he had scoured the area looking for something that would explain what he saw. He too thought perhaps a black bear had been nosing around, but it didn’t explain the tracks he saw, nor the shape and length of the claws. They were like fingers, he insisted, nothing that would ever be found on a bear.

It wasn’t till the next spring, when he took out an American couple on a hunting trip, that something strange began happening. The couple had reported a feeling of being watched and hearing something walking behind them. When they had turned around, however, they never saw anything. Rigby said he stayed up late, waiting to see if he’d witness something similar. He never did until the last night, when he heard a low, gurgled breathing, like something was looking down his neck. He turned and saw nothing but a pair of red eyes in the distance. He grabbed his gun and followed it but didn’t want to leave the camp out of his sight. It was then that he decided llamas would be a good animal to bring along on the trips – they made excellent watchdogs.

The next day they went back to the cabin, the couple spooked out and eager to go home. It was then that they walked through this very hollow and Rigby spotted the footprints. At the time there were a few of them, just across the path, like the creature crossed from woods to woods. They all took photos and the next day Rigby made his way back to take a cast of it. Unfortunately heavy rains fell in the night and only the one print remained.

“What did the American couple think?” Dex asked him.

Rigby smiled. “Well, actually they were excited. They right away thought it was Sasquatch or Bigfoot. It didn’t mean they wanted to stay and find out, but a few days later I got an email from them. The woman – Jill – had done some research on her own and found out that similar prints had been reported in the area with a connection to a red-eyed animal in the woods.”

Chills slivered down my spine and I tried to keep the camera from shaking. It was getting colder in the woods and I was getting more spooked.

“Apparently,” Rigby continued, “the local tribes here, the natives, believe in a creature called the Stiyaha. I contacted Ted Peppers, a native in Snow Crest who sells me great vegetables in the summer for my trips, and had a little talk with him. He said that a lot of natives in the Kootenays believe in two types of “monsters” in the area. One of them is a giant, hairy being that takes people and animals away. The other type is smaller and leads people astray. He personally believed they were probably one and the same. Then of course he went on to say he didn’t believe in the nonsense anyway. Still, maybe he was onto something. The male kind of acts as a queen bee and stays deep in caves in the mountains, hibernating. Like a queen bee, he’s much larger than the rest, in this case, the lady beasts, who are smaller. And like most ladies, more vicious.”

BOOK: Experiment in Terror 06 Into the Hollow
8.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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