Author's note: I'm really sorry it took me so long to get this chapter
done. I'll try not to be so slow in the future.
Chapter III
"There, that's where I saw it," said the shaking old man, as he pointed to the opposite bank. "It was like a demon or something," Pete said. "I was just sitting here and then it came along."
"Come on, Pete," started Joe Tyler, "Let's check out the other side for tracks."
"All right, Joe," replied Pete. Tyler trudged through the brush and thistle towards the truck. Various finches, crows, and other birds tweeted and whistled around him, while the morning locusts were making their usual loud chirping. The slightly moist plants squished beneath his feet with every step. He felt a couple of pricks at his fingers and palms when he hit a patch of tall thistle; this immediately caused his hand to itch. Tyler pulled out the keys to the truck and started it up as Pete clambered into the passenger seat.
"I'll just go on the Broughton Bridge and come around from there," Tyler told Pete.
"Okay Joe, whatever you say," replied the older man.
The truck bounced and rocked as it covered the rough, dirt road. As the men and the truck came to a cornfield, the dirt road became gravel, and then that gravel road came onto a small, two-lane, state highway. They drove along the highway for about ten minutes and then pulled of and crossed the newly remodeled Broughton Bridge. A couple of younger men had lawn chairs and were fishing off one of the built in fishing spots on the side. The Republican River flowed slowly beneath the bridge. It was unusually high for this time of the year. By the summer months a dry spell tended to be set in already in area. As the bridge ended, Tyler caught sight of his turn- off; a small dirt road that headed in the direction of the spot which Pete had allegedly saw his "demon or something".
Once again, the Dodge Ram bounced and kicked up dirt as it traversed down the road. Pete didn't seem to be enjoying the ride, Tyler noticed. His wrinkled face frowned with each large bump. They finally came to a wooded area in behind the riverbank across from where Pete had been. Tyler slowed the vehicle down and brought it over to the side of the dirt road before completely stopping it. The two men exited the vehicle and walked towards the trees. A rabbit scurried away through the grass on seeing the two humans. Tyler scanned the ground with his eyes for any trace of footprints or any kind of tracks, and it didn't take long to spot some. Tyler saw a print in the damp ground like he had never seen before. It was very human- like, but very long and wide. It would be about the right size for a seven- or-so-foot tall male who happened to have protruding claws from the end of his feet. Tyler was extremely baffled. But as he looked around more, he saw even more prints. The sheriff looked back at his elderly companion, who was nervously turning about, looking for any sign of the man (or creature) that had created the prints.
Tyler himself knew quite a bit about tracking animals. And these prints weren't like anything he had seen before. He even couldn't say they could be Bigfoot tracks, not that he believed in Bigfoot. But as far as he knew, they didn't have claws like on this track. Each print sunk into the damp ground about three-quarters of an inch to and inch each. This suggested that whatever made them was about two hundred and fifty to three hundred pounds. The tracks also indicated that whatever made them had a long stride, for each print was about four feet away from the last one. Luckily, Tyler had come prepared for the circumstance of finding tracks. A bag of plaster and a bucket of water were strapped into the tail bed of the Ram. He trudged back, careful not to screw up any of the incriminating tracks, and retrieved the plaster and water.
"What's that for?" Pete asked upon his return.
"I'm going to make plaster casts of the tracks and bring them to Dr. Peterson and have her take a look at them," Tyler replied, "Plus then we'll always have copies of the tracks in our possession." He knelt down and put some plaster and water into one of the prints until it was filled with a snowy white liquid that would soon dry and become hard. "We'll do a few more of these while we wait for this one and then head back to town."
* * *
The Yautja observed as one of the planet's billions of indigenous bipeds examined tracks that had been carelessly left by him the night before. He also noted that the same older specimen that had seen him was there as well. Perhaps the other biped was a form of law enforcement that the older one had reported his sighting to. The law enforcement biped seemed to have some hunting skills, for he was examining the length between prints and the depth of each print. This one would be worthy prey, if only it had been armed.
* * *
"What do you make of them, May?" Tyler asked May Peterson.
The young veterinarian seemed completely dumb-founded by the bizarre footprints. Her eyes were wide and he bottom jaw was dangling as if no bone connected it to her skull. She could do nothing but shake her head slowly and stare at the plaster castings that were sitting on the vet's desk. She finally looked at Tyler and Pete and simply said, "I have no idea."
"What a great help this has been," Pete said sarcastically.
"I," started May, "I'm sorry. I just have never seen anything quite like this."
Tyler picked up one of the castings and examined it. "I figure from the distance between the tracks and the depth," he started, "Whatever made these tracks was probably about seven feet high and about two-hundred and fifty pounds. And judging by the length of the claws, it's probably a predatory animal."
"Or it's badly groomed," May added. She looked over at Pete, "Now, you say you saw it walk on two legs?"
"Definitely," the old man simply replied. "And it was transparent."
"The transparent part baffles me," May stated.
"You sure you weren't partly drunk when you saw it Pete?" Tyler asked.
"Hell no!" Pete exclaimed. "I was more sober 'n a man with a bug up his ass!"
"Sorry, Pete," Tyler replied, "I just needed to check."
"Well, you know I'm not crazy," he stated, "There's evidence that something went by there."
"I know, Pete, I know," Tyler said soothingly.
Suddenly a grumbling noise was heard throughout the office.
"Guess I'm kinda hungry," Pete said. "I'm gonna head over to Low Places, anyone care to join me?"
Both the sheriff and the vet shook their heads at the notion of going to the local bar/restaurant. "I got a few appointments coming up," replied May.
"I have paperwork I need to catch up on," Tyler said.
* * *
That night the Yautja decided to feed on the delectable brain of the quadrupeds that the bipeds seemed take care of and harvest for their meat. Once again careful not tot spill blood, he also took the heart and liver. And after finishing his meal, he departed on his route through the riverbanks to the ship.
* * *
Pete sat at the riverbank where he had been the night before, rifle in hand, scouting for the beast he had seen the previous night. The night sounded the exact same as always. Owls, doves, frogs, toads, mayflies, mosquitoes, coyotes, and all the like. Everything was normal. And then it stopped. Just like before, it had stopped. Pete readied his rifle and put his eye to the scope scanning for the beast. Numerous trees sweeped in and out of his view as he ran the scope along the ground. And then he heard a rustling, not from the ground, but from the trees. The beast was in the trees across from him. He quickly centered the beast's apparent chest in the center of the scope and pulled the trigger. A loud booming noise erupted from the nozzle of the rifle and a flash came with it. Pete closed his eyes for a mere two seconds, and when he opened them again, the creature was gone.
A minute later, a sharp pain entered his back, and he felt blood trickle down to his pelvis. He looked behind him and saw a large, green, man-like creature behind him. It had a gray helmet, black dreadlocks, a loin cloth, shoulder pads (one with a structure that looked rather like a gun), and two gauntlets (one on each arm). Two blades were attached to the beast's right gauntlet. Two blades that happened to be dug into Pete's back.
Chapter III
"There, that's where I saw it," said the shaking old man, as he pointed to the opposite bank. "It was like a demon or something," Pete said. "I was just sitting here and then it came along."
"Come on, Pete," started Joe Tyler, "Let's check out the other side for tracks."
"All right, Joe," replied Pete. Tyler trudged through the brush and thistle towards the truck. Various finches, crows, and other birds tweeted and whistled around him, while the morning locusts were making their usual loud chirping. The slightly moist plants squished beneath his feet with every step. He felt a couple of pricks at his fingers and palms when he hit a patch of tall thistle; this immediately caused his hand to itch. Tyler pulled out the keys to the truck and started it up as Pete clambered into the passenger seat.
"I'll just go on the Broughton Bridge and come around from there," Tyler told Pete.
"Okay Joe, whatever you say," replied the older man.
The truck bounced and rocked as it covered the rough, dirt road. As the men and the truck came to a cornfield, the dirt road became gravel, and then that gravel road came onto a small, two-lane, state highway. They drove along the highway for about ten minutes and then pulled of and crossed the newly remodeled Broughton Bridge. A couple of younger men had lawn chairs and were fishing off one of the built in fishing spots on the side. The Republican River flowed slowly beneath the bridge. It was unusually high for this time of the year. By the summer months a dry spell tended to be set in already in area. As the bridge ended, Tyler caught sight of his turn- off; a small dirt road that headed in the direction of the spot which Pete had allegedly saw his "demon or something".
Once again, the Dodge Ram bounced and kicked up dirt as it traversed down the road. Pete didn't seem to be enjoying the ride, Tyler noticed. His wrinkled face frowned with each large bump. They finally came to a wooded area in behind the riverbank across from where Pete had been. Tyler slowed the vehicle down and brought it over to the side of the dirt road before completely stopping it. The two men exited the vehicle and walked towards the trees. A rabbit scurried away through the grass on seeing the two humans. Tyler scanned the ground with his eyes for any trace of footprints or any kind of tracks, and it didn't take long to spot some. Tyler saw a print in the damp ground like he had never seen before. It was very human- like, but very long and wide. It would be about the right size for a seven- or-so-foot tall male who happened to have protruding claws from the end of his feet. Tyler was extremely baffled. But as he looked around more, he saw even more prints. The sheriff looked back at his elderly companion, who was nervously turning about, looking for any sign of the man (or creature) that had created the prints.
Tyler himself knew quite a bit about tracking animals. And these prints weren't like anything he had seen before. He even couldn't say they could be Bigfoot tracks, not that he believed in Bigfoot. But as far as he knew, they didn't have claws like on this track. Each print sunk into the damp ground about three-quarters of an inch to and inch each. This suggested that whatever made them was about two hundred and fifty to three hundred pounds. The tracks also indicated that whatever made them had a long stride, for each print was about four feet away from the last one. Luckily, Tyler had come prepared for the circumstance of finding tracks. A bag of plaster and a bucket of water were strapped into the tail bed of the Ram. He trudged back, careful not to screw up any of the incriminating tracks, and retrieved the plaster and water.
"What's that for?" Pete asked upon his return.
"I'm going to make plaster casts of the tracks and bring them to Dr. Peterson and have her take a look at them," Tyler replied, "Plus then we'll always have copies of the tracks in our possession." He knelt down and put some plaster and water into one of the prints until it was filled with a snowy white liquid that would soon dry and become hard. "We'll do a few more of these while we wait for this one and then head back to town."
* * *
The Yautja observed as one of the planet's billions of indigenous bipeds examined tracks that had been carelessly left by him the night before. He also noted that the same older specimen that had seen him was there as well. Perhaps the other biped was a form of law enforcement that the older one had reported his sighting to. The law enforcement biped seemed to have some hunting skills, for he was examining the length between prints and the depth of each print. This one would be worthy prey, if only it had been armed.
* * *
"What do you make of them, May?" Tyler asked May Peterson.
The young veterinarian seemed completely dumb-founded by the bizarre footprints. Her eyes were wide and he bottom jaw was dangling as if no bone connected it to her skull. She could do nothing but shake her head slowly and stare at the plaster castings that were sitting on the vet's desk. She finally looked at Tyler and Pete and simply said, "I have no idea."
"What a great help this has been," Pete said sarcastically.
"I," started May, "I'm sorry. I just have never seen anything quite like this."
Tyler picked up one of the castings and examined it. "I figure from the distance between the tracks and the depth," he started, "Whatever made these tracks was probably about seven feet high and about two-hundred and fifty pounds. And judging by the length of the claws, it's probably a predatory animal."
"Or it's badly groomed," May added. She looked over at Pete, "Now, you say you saw it walk on two legs?"
"Definitely," the old man simply replied. "And it was transparent."
"The transparent part baffles me," May stated.
"You sure you weren't partly drunk when you saw it Pete?" Tyler asked.
"Hell no!" Pete exclaimed. "I was more sober 'n a man with a bug up his ass!"
"Sorry, Pete," Tyler replied, "I just needed to check."
"Well, you know I'm not crazy," he stated, "There's evidence that something went by there."
"I know, Pete, I know," Tyler said soothingly.
Suddenly a grumbling noise was heard throughout the office.
"Guess I'm kinda hungry," Pete said. "I'm gonna head over to Low Places, anyone care to join me?"
Both the sheriff and the vet shook their heads at the notion of going to the local bar/restaurant. "I got a few appointments coming up," replied May.
"I have paperwork I need to catch up on," Tyler said.
* * *
That night the Yautja decided to feed on the delectable brain of the quadrupeds that the bipeds seemed take care of and harvest for their meat. Once again careful not tot spill blood, he also took the heart and liver. And after finishing his meal, he departed on his route through the riverbanks to the ship.
* * *
Pete sat at the riverbank where he had been the night before, rifle in hand, scouting for the beast he had seen the previous night. The night sounded the exact same as always. Owls, doves, frogs, toads, mayflies, mosquitoes, coyotes, and all the like. Everything was normal. And then it stopped. Just like before, it had stopped. Pete readied his rifle and put his eye to the scope scanning for the beast. Numerous trees sweeped in and out of his view as he ran the scope along the ground. And then he heard a rustling, not from the ground, but from the trees. The beast was in the trees across from him. He quickly centered the beast's apparent chest in the center of the scope and pulled the trigger. A loud booming noise erupted from the nozzle of the rifle and a flash came with it. Pete closed his eyes for a mere two seconds, and when he opened them again, the creature was gone.
A minute later, a sharp pain entered his back, and he felt blood trickle down to his pelvis. He looked behind him and saw a large, green, man-like creature behind him. It had a gray helmet, black dreadlocks, a loin cloth, shoulder pads (one with a structure that looked rather like a gun), and two gauntlets (one on each arm). Two blades were attached to the beast's right gauntlet. Two blades that happened to be dug into Pete's back.