Forsaken - An American Sasquatch Tale (12 page)

Becky fired the truck up and it jerked a little, but didn’t move forward. “Dammit!”

Liberty sneaked a quick peek outside and saw a spark the size of a prehistoric lightening bug in the distant part of the field. A loud crack followed, and a millisecond later a bullet blew through the truck cab. They yelled out the same time, Liberty’s completely swallowing Becky’s.

“Christ almighty, they’re shooting at us,” Becky cursed non-stop and Liberty shook so hard she smacked her head off the cab. The truck still revved but wouldn’t move. It jerked forward, backward, then hitched to the side. Liberty pictured the ditch. It may as well have been as deep as the ravine in Montgomery Woods because if they slid into it, the truck wouldn’t be going anywhere. She chanted in her head,
Please don’t go in, please don’t go in
.

“I’m caught up in the muck, Lib, the shoulder’s too soft, my tires are sinking. You might have to get out and run.” The sound of gravel blasted the undercarriage sounded like buckshot when it hit a road sign.

Run? Was it her fault the truck wouldn’t go? Another crack sounded and a bullet came into the bed, this time near the tailgate. It pierced the rubber of a spare tire Becky hauled in the bed of the truck. Time moved in slow motion. The air changed, became acrid, heavy with exhaust. Liberty’s mouth filled with saliva and she held back the urge to vomit.

She reconsidered busting through the tailgate to escape what had become a death trap, and chanced a look outside. Maybe she’d be able to make it to the woods on the opposite side of the road.

The source of the lights came into view—a four-wheeler—ten yards off, heading toward the front of the truck. Liberty pounded her fist down, urged both the truck and Becky to go. She slid toward the latch, just in case, ready to disengage it and run.

As if she’d read her mind, Becky yelled, “Go, go, go,” shifted the lever and stomped on the gas.

Liberty felt the truck lurch and then hop out of its rut just as the four-wheeler jumped the ditch directly in front of them. Becky’s headlights illuminated the rider. He steered with one hand, extended the other, and aimed a rifle directly at the windshield.

Becky missed him by a half second, but he got a shot off. Liberty blinked as the bullet blazed a path from the hollow of her temple, across the top of her ear and then shattered its way out of the back window. The windshield spider-webbed. Becky screamed, then whooped as she tore down the road. The rear end of the truck fishtailed left and right and dust filtered inside the cab through the broken window.

“You okay?” Becky screamed over her shoulder.

Liberty held a hand up to her head. Felt as the blood soaked her fur. How long did she have before she bled out? She was dazed, but interestingly enough, not in much pain. Other than a burning sensation from the top of her head to her shoulders, and a loud ringing in her ears, she felt numb. Shock. That had to be it.

“Can you hand me the phone, Lib?”

She couldn’t, she’d lost track of it during the commotion. Besides, she was dying.

Becky kept up the conversation, one-sided and all, “I’m calling the Sheriff. I’ll take you home and then report the asshole. I can’t believe he shot at us. Can you? I told you, didn’t I? It was Russ. I saw his face in my headlights. And I know damn well he saw me
before
he let off the last shot. I mean, we weren’t even doing anything illegal.” She paused. “Hey, back there!” She tapped on the window. “Hey…oh my God are you okay?”

Liberty toppled over. Lifting her hand to her face, she half expected to see her body shift, the way it did when dying, but it stayed solid Sasquatch. She checked her aura and it looked okay, a soft blue indicated life at least. Liberty held her hand up to the slider, so Becky could see she was okay.

Becky began to scream, “Oh shit, you’re bleeding. Oh shit, Liberty, did you get shot?”

Liberty gave her a thumbs up. She might have bled out some, but she still had energy for sign language. Liberty felt a wave of nausea, became woozy, realized Becky kept talking to her as she swam in delirium.

The engine roared and the truck lurched forward. Becky stopped speaking in sentences. Just mumble, mumble, sorry, mumble, please, mumble, I’ll do whatever.

Liberty lost track of time. They bounced up Mitch’s driveway. Becky said, “Stay down, I’m going to turn around and back up to the kennel.”

Becky parked, turned off the truck, and hissed unhappily. “Lib, I have to leave you, I’m so sorry. Lindy’s on the front porch. I don’t want to risk her seeing you. Crap, she’s walking this way, pretty fast for an old gal. It’s gotta be Mitch.”

Becky opened her door and whispered, “Get yourself out, the kennel is unlocked. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

The truck shook when the door slammed shut. A worried-sounding Lindy talking a mile a minute. Their voices faded as they headed away from the kennel and toward the farmhouse.

Liberty counted to thirty, gave them ample time to make it inside, then, with a blood-soaked hand, reached up and dropped the tailgate.

Nathaniel stepped out of the shadow of the building and stood there facing her. His eyes flashed with a fury, aura crimson. He’d discovered her escapade. What that meant for her, she had no idea. She attempted to slide out of the bed, got lightheaded and, at the same moment she realized what was occurring, she fainted.

Chapter Eleven

Without opening her eyes, Liberty took stock of her surroundings. She was on the mattress. In her chamber. The scent of cinnamon candles, and Nathaniel’s deep breathing gave it away.

She thought of how the story would sound before she opened her eyes. Rehearsed what she was going to say silently.

Nathaniel interrupted her inner speech, “I know you’re awake.”

She pretended not to be, kept her eyes shut to buy some time.

“I can tell you’re awake, Liberty. Your breathing changed and your eyelids are twitchy.”

Fine. She didn’t care for the game anymore, either. She took a deep breath and slowly opened them. She lifted a hand to feel her head.

Nathaniel nodded. “Yeah, it’s a bandage. Seems you were injured on your little excursion this evening.”

She licked her lips and croaked, “Shot.” She sounded unwell without trying.

He raised his eyebrows, looking at her like she’d just told him there was a cloud in the sky. “You don’t say.”

She bristled. His wife was shot, fainted, and now he was acting like the injured party.

“Can I get some water, please?” She couldn’t stand the sound of her own voice. Weak. Shaky.

“Here you go.”

He didn’t attempt to hold it for her while she drank, but he was kind enough to unscrew the bottle before handing it to her. She managed to get it to her lips on her own and drained half the bottle before giving it back. “Thanks.”

“I don’t even need to tell you how bad this is, right?” He wasn’t interested in a response, started his lecture. “It’s wrong in so many ways. I can’t even wrap my head around your stupidity.” He looked at her without the steadfast love she’d grown accustomed to seeing in his eyes. “I don’t think I know you anymore.”

She listened without interruption, lay there and watched a hollow version of Nathaniel shake his head. Liberty was just as unsure of herself as he was, so didn’t see the point in arguing.

“You mind telling me what you think you were doing?”

She decided to tell the truth. Lies hadn’t helped her so far. “Meeting with Adrian at the rendezvous.”

“Really? Huh.” His expression remained focused, and for some reason, that worried her more than him ranting.

“Aren’t you going to yell?”

He shook his head, and looked at her like she was nobody. “Yell? Where’s yelling get me?” He leaned in closer, until his nose was an inch from hers. She could feel his breath, tell his jaw was set as the muscle in his cheek flexed.

She shrank back into the pillow, started to feel like she had in the back of Becky’s truck. “Well, what then?”

He spoke in a low and deliberate voice, “It’s settled, Liberty. You’re unwell and we’re going to Proem.”

No “I think,” or better yet, “What do you think?” Just like that he had decided. She hadn’t seen the decision coming, and the lack of choice left her speechless.

The words came flowing back all at once. “The hell we are. You.” She poked his chest for emphasis. “Maybe. But not me. Since when do you think you can disregard my Pardon?” She called his bluff and tried to keep a steady expression on her face, though she panicked inside.

“Hmm, let’s see.” He tipped his head from side to side like it was a scale truly weighing matters out. Then stopped and looked back at her. “Since you’ve gone…become unstable.”

She was about to, she really was. Nathaniel had pushed the button, the one he’d always steered clear of before, because he knew it was painful for her, but mostly because it was untrue. He didn’t believe she was unstable, he couldn’t possibly, but he had to feel out of control and so he tried to hurt her. Maybe slow her up a bit.

“You don’t mean it,” she said. “I know you don’t.”

“Actually, you don’t know what I’m thinking.”

Liberty tried to diffuse the situation, hoped there was a way to keep him from crossing a line he couldn’t uncross. “Aren’t you going to ask me what happened?” She reached up and touched the bandage he’d put on her wound.

He shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“It does if you care about me. If you love me.”

He didn’t blink, but she saw a shift in his eyes. It was either that or wishful thinking on her part.

When he didn’t respond, she continued, “The other day when Katie, Gabriel and Adrian left, and I went to sleep in the guest chamber?”

He crossed his arms. A wall. She was talking to a wall of Nathaniel.

“Well, Adrian had been looking at Sage’s album, and he left it on the cot. I found a note from him inside. Addressed to me. He said he needed to talk to me, to tell me more about Sage.” She felt tears well up, her vision got blurry. “He said he might know more concerning the day she disappeared.”

“I’ve reached my breaking point,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Why?” she swiped her eyes, “It’s like you’re so determined to be right, that you’d refuse to recognize your own daughter if she walked in this second.” She sat up, “Nathaniel, listen to me.” She reached for his hand. “I went to meet Adrian but he wasn’t there. I found a trail camera mounted nearby, though. I broke it up and buried it.”

He nodded. “I think we’re leaving at the right time, then. This area isn’t safe anym—”

“I don’t get you,” she snapped. “Stop being a bull and listen to me.” She tore off the blanket and sat on the edge of the bed, a little wobbly. “It’s too late. Weird stuff has happened. Someone took the clothes out of the rendezvous and the area was disturbed.” She took a deep breath. “And I’m afraid Adrian might be in serious trouble.”

She stood and started to walk away when Nathaniel grabbed a hold of her wrists and yelled, “Where do you think you’re going?”

Right as she believed the situation was going to get ugly, bloody, the hatch slammed and they heard a thud as somebody dropped down into the vestibule. Liberty hoped for Adrian, but the noise said this person wasn’t as slight of build. They froze mid-argument.

As the person began to run down the corridor, toward them, Nathaniel put his hand to her mouth to signal quiet. He quickly crept to the doorway, his chest expanding as he took in a deep breath ready to pound the intruder the moment they came into sight. A familiar voice called out.

“Nate? Liberty?”

Gabriel.

Liberty saw Nathaniel relax with relief and, in the span of a second, saw him tense again with worry as he stepped into the corridor. “Gabe? What’s wrong?”

“Are they here?”

“Who?”

Gabriel reached the doorway, pushed past Nathaniel, and stopped short when he saw her. “What happened to you? Tell me you’ve seen Adrian.”

Liberty recounted her night, repeating herself and then getting further than Nathaniel had let her. Gabriel sat on the bed with a towel from the vestibule around his waist, a mixture of desperation and despair on his face. Her heart went out to him. He looked a lot like she felt.

As nonchalant as possible, she said, “Have you heard Adrian wail lately?”

“Wail? Why?”

“The truth is, there happened to be a lot going on when the four-wheeler showed up, but I heard a call. And I know I’m not wrong because I heard it twice.”

Gabriel’s eye widened. Nathaniel looked unsure, but at least he hadn’t brushed her off as unstable for the moment.

“I also know it was male, but it sounded too mature for Adrian.”

Gabriel got to his feet. “Are you sure? Adrian is sixteen now.”

She shook her head. “Honestly? The more I think about it, it sounded like twelve feet and late stages. I guess I thought it might be him because, what other male is in our territory? I just don’t know.”

They looked at one another. She figured they probably all asked themselves the same question, but it was Nathaniel who spoke first, “If it’s not Adrian, then who?”

Liberty shrugged.

Gabriel looked at Nathaniel. “I have to go and see for myself.”

Nathaniel nodded. “I’ll go with you.” He looked at Liberty and said, “You should go be with Mitch.”

“I know.” As hard as it was to put aside the search, death didn’t make it a habit to wait around until it was convenient, at least not in Liberty’s world. “Becky said before we left it was getting close to the time.” She swallowed. “That he’d probably be gone before morning…” It crossed her mind it might already be too late.

“I’ll try to make it back,” Nathaniel said, “but it’s probably a good idea not to mention the events that have happened tonight.”

Of course she wouldn’t. The last thing Mitch needed was a heap of worry on the way out. What did Nathaniel think? She was a complete imbecile? “Yeah, okay.”

Liberty gave them directions and they left, cutting through the eastern portion of the property to shorten the distance. She left a note for Adrian, just in case he appeared there, telling him his father and Nathaniel were looking for him and she was with Mitch. If he showed up he needed to wait for them to come back.