Day 12
"Okay! We start from the spot where I found you yesterday," I directed, looking at Jimmy. "Cut, you take the left, I go right, and Chief stays between us. Circle down and around the ridge, we'll meet on the other end at the draw." I pointed out the directions on our map, mainly to rule out any misunderstandings.
Jimmy nodded and motioned something to Cut.
"He says, make sure you look up, too. There were a lot of broken branches over head, that's what he was goin' by yesterday."
I rolled my eyes in resignation. "Whatever!...Oh, and Chief," I caught his arm before he turned away, "here, you might need this." I pitched him the .40 caliber. "You know how to use it?"
Guess so, I answered my own question when he ejected the magazine, cleared the breech, reloaded the SIG himself, all in one nice, fluent move, and then signed with an impish grin.
"Says he'd like to have that extra clip for it," Cut informed me, grinning as well.
"Knew I had that, didn't ya?" I smirked and tossed the requested item over to him.
#####
It seemed we made the three miles in record time by now. Maybe just because the area was starting to feel like our own back pocket. To my surprise, Buck stayed right at my side this time. He never even flinched when we reached the spot where Jimmy had somehow ended up yesterday. Bigfoot...crap! There had to be another explanation here, I had thought about it all night. Sure, there was a whole bunch of weird shit going on, but that supernatural stuff was simply a little too farfetched for my taste. I decided to keep this opinion to myself, however—at least for now.
The rain started again. This area stayed wet, I think 364 days out of the year. Pain in the neck! It is pretty, though. Lots of trees and mountains. Much like back home, only higher.
I lost my thought when Jimmy stopped and looked back at me, obviously puzzled. "What's the matter, Chief?"
"That's strange," Cut relayed the signed response. "He says, there ain't nothin' here."
"What do you mean? I thought he found Bigfoot tracks yesterday?" I snapped derisively.
"Well...yeah...but they're gone now."
"Damn you two! What about the broken branches?"
Jimmy shrugged, pointing up.
"Don't even bother!" I waved Cut off before he could say anything. "Let's just circle around as planned, and keep your eyes on the ground...unless you believe that your Bigfoot now grew wings and flew away." Shaking my head in exasperation, I left both of them standing there and started on my designated route.
Buck hesitated and growled.
"Oh, shut up!" I snapped at the dog. "What? You been smokin' some of that stuff Jimmy rolls? Shit, Buck, I got enough trouble with them two ghost hunters. Don't you go stupid on me again, too."
I wasn't sure later whether I was simply too pissed off to really pay attention, or what caused me to so completely overlook the obvious. A shot! Damn, that was Cut's Bullpup. I turned, chasing back up the ridge in break-neck speed. Where is he? Come on, ol' man, don't do this to me.
I stopped, looking around and catching my breath.
Buck pulled up beside me. He was actually trembling. Fear or anger, I wasn't sure but I had never seen him react like this.
Someone whistled softly. Jimmy? Okay, what now? He was only a few steps away from me, sitting on the ground, a drawn expression on his face. I still couldn't see Cut anywhere.
Buck whined and strolled over to Chief.
"What's the matter? Are you all right?"
He shook his head and motioned toward his right leg. It seemed to be stuck in something.
"What the...?" I flinched when I got close enough to see.
His leg was caught in some sort of trap. I had never seen anything like it before. Not metal, just short, pointy wood-spikes, clamped into his calf directly above the combat boot. I had come across all kinds of nasty devices, even invented a few of my own, but this was a new one. It looked like something primeval.
"You know this is gonna hurt like hell," I said and thought, figure it already does, at the same time.
Jimmy didn't react, only gritted his teeth when I pulled the spiked fangs apart. Hard to believe a shady construction like this could be so tough to open. It took a second effort, and Chief exhaled a sharp breath since I momentarily let up to get a better grip. He was bleeding pretty bad, but never flinched while I checked his leg.
"The bone is all right," I mused. "Think you can make it to the camp if I help you?"
He nodded.
"Okay, I'll take you back, then I have to find Cut. He fired a shot."
A questioning look, and he pointed over to his left.
"Yeah, but I just came around that way. Couldn't see anything. Here...that should work for now." I had sacrificed my Harley Davidson bandanna to wrap his leg. Scanty but efficient, at least for a short while.
"Don't worry," I grinned, helping him to his feet. "I did a Combat Lifesaver's Course three years ago. Seen much worse than this in practice."
He just rolled his eyes.
#####
This time it seemed like forever until we made it back to camp, and Jimmy was completely worn out by the time we arrived. He had lost quite a lot of blood and looked pale when he laid down on the cot. I hurried to re-wrap his leg properly, thinking that this medical-kit badly needed restocked. It had been to a couple of combat zones with me, but somehow I had hoped we wouldn't need it on this trip. Wishful thinking, I realized.
"You gonna be alright?" I asked, finishing the job.
Another curt nod for an answer.
"I'll leave Buck here with you. He's acting weird again. Drives me crazy."
Jimmy gave me a thoughtful squint, and whistled when I turned to leave.
"What?"
He sat up, took the bear-claw necklace off and held it up toward me. "You might need this."
My expression was probably not much short of idiotic. "Damn you, Chief! All that sign-language crap, and you can speak?"
"I'm just deaf, not mute, stupid!" He said it low, but quite clear and understandable.
"Well, thanks a lot, you jerk!" I wasn't sure whether to be mad or relieved. This certainly made the situation easier, but he had fooled me for quite a while, too. I shook my head, thinking Cut must have known about this all along. Boy is he gonna be in for it...when I find him that is.
"Chase?"
"Yeah?" I drawled, putting on the necklace.
Jimmy merely looked at me, a somewhat anxious expression on his face.
Must've read my mind. But I understood.
"I'll find him, Chief. I promise! Stay put and keep your eyes open. I'll be back before dark." I glanced down and ran a finger along the row of ten bear-claws, fitted in Sterling Silver with a turquoise stone in the middle of each. "Do they really work?"
"I'm still here!" he shrugged impassively.
#####
Alright, let's think this through rationally here. What is going on? I have been in all kinds of touchy situations before, but usually there was an easy explanation. There had to be something we were overlooking here. Tracks that are there one minute and gone the next—at least if I could convince myself to believe in that. And branches, first broken and then not? No such thing. Either Jimmy was hallucinating, or he and Cut were pulling a real bad joke on me. I was inclined to assume the first.
Anyhow, I thought, making my way back up the ridge for the umpteenth time. Cut had fired a shot, so there had to be some evidence, maybe an empty shell or something. He couldn't have been too far away, about fifty or sixty yards to the left from our starting point. Damn, that fog and drizzle is getting on my nerves.
I slowed my pace, getting closer to the area where he should have been. Boy, finding a single shell here would be like finding a needle in the hay-stack. Leaves everywhere, but at least I could make out where Cut had come through. He still wore those old boots with the nick in the right heel. They had sure been to hell and back by now. Kinda like the two of us. I grinned to myself. The prints suddenly stopped, right in front of a low rock-ledge. Okay, now what!?
I turned back and forth a couple of times. No tracks leading off to either side or any other direction. Well? I still don't believe in UFOs, so where did he go from here? Wait a minute...what's that? A flicker of something between the leaves caught my eye.
I stepped over and bent down. Damn! He's been here all right...that's his dog-tags. Always wondered why he still wore those things anyway, considering he had left the Army over a year ago. Sentimental value, I guess. But this sure didn't look good at all now. I glanced up and around. Let's just assume for a moment that Chief had really seen what he said he did, then there should be... I exhaled a sharp breath and jumped to my feet. The big maple right next to me—Gees, he was right!
Several of the smaller branches were snapped at the ends, about a foot and a half over my head. And the edges were still fresh. So what about tracks? I returned my attention to the ground. Gotta be something...
A rustling sound, not far behind me—spinning around again—nothing. Shit! I'm slowly but surely losing my mind over this. Getting so edgy, I might just shoot somebody by accident, if they walked up behind me. Calm down, Chase! Think! Damn, this is giving me a headache.
I sat down on the rock-ledge and lit a cigarette, just to unwind for a minute. Well, they might kill me, but so can a heart-attack, right?
Trying to get my thoughts back together, I still don't buy that Bigfoot theory, but then what broke the branches, and who or what designed that crafty little trap Chief stumbled into? Sasquatch with a hundred-eighty IQ? This was only getting worse, the longer I thought about it.
I subconsciously flipped the dog-tags in and out of my hand, holding on to the chain. Funny, how come the chain isn't broken? Like they'd just been pulled up over Cut's head or...wait a minute! Chief said, something had carried him up the ridge. Carried in what way? Even if you're seven-foot-something and over five-hundred pounds, the easiest way to lug two-hundred-sixty pounds uphill would be over your shoulder. Great, now they have me thinking in Bigfoot terms. Well, so far I haven't come up with a better explanation. Alright, Mr. Sasquatch, let's just see if we can't reason this out... I didn't get any further.
" 'Bout fuckin' time you showed up!"
I jumped to my feet, spun around, and dropped the cigarette when Cut hollered.
"Did you find that damn gun?" he barked, walking up beside me.
I merely stared him up and down, somehow beginning to believe in ghosts myself now. Where'd he come from?
"What the fuck you lookin' at?" he snapped. "Damn, Chase, that thing got a hold of me, I thought I'd be on my way to Jimmy's happy huntin'-grounds...where is he anyways?" Cut continued since I still hadn't blinked. "Hey!" An unfriendly jab from his elbow brought me back to my senses.
"Damn, Cut," I yelled at him, "where the hell have you been? What happened?"
"Like I said...man, gimme a smoke, I need it!" He plopped down on that rock.
"I had a little encounter with our mystery creature. Jimmy was right, Chase. I saw it!"
"Saw what?"
"Look, whatever it is...it's huge, strong as a bull, and smells like we used to after two months in the field without a bath. I don't know exactly what happened. Just heard somethin' behind me, turned, looked up and shot."
"Did you hit 'im?"
"Don't think so, 'cause the next thing I remember is wakin' up, buried in a bunch of leaves and my head hurtin' like after three bottles of Quervo." He timidly probed a spot of crusted blood in the hair behind his left ear. Glancing over at me like he expected me to say something, he noticed Jimmy's necklace. "Chase?" He regarded me with a dead-serious questioning look.
"Chief is okay. At least he was when I left the camp. He had a little encounter with a homemade bear-trap..." I explained what had happened, earning myself a doubtful frown. "It's right over there. Check it out. See what you think about it."
Another climb up the ridge, somehow it seemed to be getting higher each time.
"Oh, by the way...miss something?" I asked, holding up his tags.
"Yeah!" Cut grinned wryly and slipped them back over his head. "Still like to know what happened to my Bullpup though. Really bothers me."
"Maybe he took it," I interjected. We looked at each other and suddenly started laughing.
"So what you're saying is," he chuckled, "we now got a Bigfoot with an IQ and a shotgun to deal with? Wonderful! That oughta really make things interesting."
"No, shit! Just what we needed on top of everything. Well, look here." I knelt down when we had reached the spot where Chief got caught. Or at least I thought it was. "Wait a minute! What the...?"
I probably didn't have a real bright look on my face—wouldn't be for the first time today. "I know this was it." I scanned the ground. "Man, what the fuck is going on? I don't get it!"
"You sure it was right here?"
"Yes, damn it! I remember that goofy little patch of moss there. Looks like a nice set of hooters," I wisecracked, though not feeling funny at all. "But nothing is here now. No trap, no blood, no tracks."
"Maybe our friend keeps house like your ol' lady," Cut replied dryly.
"Knock it off!" I was getting irritated again, feeling stupid. "I give you the Bigfoot thing, but this? No way! There's got to be another explanation."
"Only one I can think of is, you're wrong about the area, and that would be a first."
"Well, I'm sure starting to have my doubts, Cut... So, what do we do now?"
"Don't know 'bout you, but I could definitely use a cold one and some chow," he announced.
I shook my head. "There ain't nothing that could ruin your appetite, is there?"
"Nope! At least I never seen anything yet that did."
"Okay! Guess we better check on Chief anyways," I consented. "Oh, by the way, I found out something real interesting, too. Sure owe you one for that."
He looked over with a nasty smirk as we started back toward the camp. "So he talked, huh?"
"Yeah! Was mighty nice of you to fill me in on that. Thanks a lot!" I grumbled.
"Look, Chase, I'm sorry. But I promised to keep my mouth shut about it, alright?"
"I don't get it. What's the problem?"
"Why'nt you ask him that," Cut shrugged, sounding frustrated now. "I'm just surprised he let you wear the bear-claws."
"Apparently he thought I might need them. Protection against evil spirits, you know."
"Only works if you believe in it, Chase. Jimmy knows you don't, and that's what bothers me," he mused. "He wouldn't even let me borrow 'em when we went to Saudi."
"There wasn't no ghosts there either," I replied in dark humor. "Just a bunch of shell-shocked, half-crazy rag-heads."
"You still don't get it, do you?" Cut stopped in mid-stride. "This is like his personal medicine, or good-luck charm, if you know what I mean. He wouldn't give it up if you held a loaded and cocked piece to his head."
"So why did he do it now?" I questioned, still somewhat indifferent.
"Man, I'm serious. I think he knows somethin' more than we do."
"About what, Cut?"
He merely shook his head in disbelieve, and walked on without answering.
I quickly caught up with him. "Cut!
"What!"
"Suppose you're right, you and Chief both, so where does that leave us?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, if we're really up against what you two suggest, how do we deal with it?"
He stopped once more and gazed at me with that chilling solemn expression. "How should I know? Told you on the first day, we'd better pack up and go home. Told you we might be better off not findin' anything. But you were so hell-bent on figurin' out what happened to them city-boys...Damn, Chase, we're into this so deep now..."
"You want out, then get out. I got a job to do," I snapped and left him standing where he was.
"Where you goin' now?" he called after me since I headed back up the ridge again.
"What do you care...Here!" I loosened the bear-claws from around my neck, tossing them over to him. "Give those back to Jimmy. They might do him more good than me."
"Stubborn son-of-a-bitch!" he cussed and came stomping up behind me.
I didn't feel much like grinning, but couldn't help myself. Now who's being stubborn! Been this way between us since we first met. We would fight like pit-bulls, but neither one of us could stand to see the other pissed off for any length of time.
"Wait a minute, Chase." He pulled up beside me. "Look, I'm sorry. It's just that this whole thing got me on the edge. I ain't even sure what I saw. Maybe I'm gettin' paranoid."
"Felt this way since we got here," I admitted, somewhat calmer.
"Look, man, we been through a whole bunch of shit together, you an' me. So far we've always come out with flyin' colors, even when things got too close for comfort."
I only gave him a crooked smile and he continued.
"Whatever is out there ain't pretty, believe me. But I'll eat my old boots before I let you run up against it alone. So whether you like it or not, you gonna have to put up with me till we got that thing whopped, okay?"
"Seems like I don't have much choice, do I?"
"Nope! Now can we get back and find somethin' that resembles food?" he grinned, handed the necklace back to me, and we changed direction once more.