This story is the sixth chapter of a fictional series by SRI’s very own Mark Banta. We are also honored that SRI associate Pat Barker has contributed her talents to illustrate the series. We ask that you respect both the author’s and the illustrator’s copyrights and do not download or post these works on other sites.

Mark and Pat return with this month’s exciting installment of A New Reality. Will John and the group from Midsouth Bigfoot Research Center be able to find and rescue Grady?

If you haven’t already, read Chapter 5 of A New Reality or start at the beginning.

Chapter VI

John set a hard pace for the amateur cowboys to follow. He commanded Ole Ned with polished skill across gentle meadows, across small streams, and around washouts and debris. By daylight, Rusty was wincing with every step of his mount. He had held on to the saddle horn with both hands and angry blisters were now appearing.

Oblivious to Rusty’s anguished moans, John pressed forward, focused only on what must come next. He rode with his reins held lightly in one hand and his rifle gripped tightly in the other. There will be no hesitation, he promised himself. There will be no fear. I am one with my rifle and I come to deliver death. The latter he reiterated repeatedly in his mind…an old trick he had used in Vietnam to psych himself up for a battle.

As the sun crept slowly over the horizon, Bryan got a clear look at John’s face for the first time. The natural light illuminated the look of determination etched in the hard-earned lines of the weathered cowboy’s face. Bryan watched John’s piercing gray eyes quickly shift from left to right, drinking in the entire countryside before them.

Unlike Rusty, Bryan had some experience with riding. Growing up in a small town, he had worked summers as a hired hand for some local ranchers. He was far from an expert, but had learned how to relax in a saddle and let his hips roll with the horse. Putting his heals to the black stallion named Blackjack, Bryan eased up next to John in a gallop. John’s eyes remained straight ahead, cold and distant for a time. Finally, realizing the young man wasn’t going to go away, he turned to face Bryan as they came out of a lightly timbered bottom into a wide bluestem pasture.

Not wanting to try the man’s patience, Bryan got immediately to the point. “What’s the plan, John?” he hollered, as the wind whipped around him. “I mean, after we investigate the campsite. Then what?”

“Then I start tracking,” John replied, in a firm, but barely audible voice. “When we find them, we get Grady back.”

A stab of fear ran down Bryan’s spine. He was still unsure of whether or not he could trust John. For all he knew, he could be some lunatic, leading them all out into the woods to kill them. What troubled Bryan most was that he had a pretty good idea about how John was planning to rescue his friend.

“You plan on killing them to get Grady back, dontcha, John?” He asked, voicing his concern.

“Every damn one of them,” John replied in a steely voice. He spurred Ole Ned hard and shot out in the lead again. Bryan turned and exchanged a worried glance with Levi, who had overheard the exchange and shared his concern.

Grady awoke in pitch darkness caught in a vice-like grip. His head was pounding and he could smell the sickening sulfur aroma he had recently come to know so well. Struggling to break free, he felt the grip on his body tighten.

Slowly, Grady became increasingly aware of his senses. He heard the creature’s heavy breathing and could feel its course hair enveloping him. As his eyes slowly adjusted in the soft moonlight, he could see the ground passing swiftly beneath him. He realized he was being carried over the shoulder of a sasquatch. The events that had occurred earlier in the evening now rushed back to him. “John!” he tried to scream, but his voice was too weak and the creature’s grip was too tight.

Despite himself, Grady began to laugh. It was the crazy, half-hearted laugh of a desperate man, but it helped to reduce some of the apprehension gripping his mind. The creature grunted in response and again tightened its grip. Think, damn it, Think! Grady reprimanded. Focusing with all his strength, he tried to stop the pain throbbing through his temples. I am still alive, he reminded himself. This thing knows I’m alive. If it wanted me dead, the sumbitch woulda already killed me.

That thought brought Grady no comfort. What the hell does this thing want with me alive? As they ascended a small rise, a shiver ran through his body and the sasquatch again responded by gripping him tighter. Grady’s heart pounded relentlessly in his head. He began to struggle for breath. He wiggled his body desperately, trying to free his chest to take a much-needed breath. The dizziness came first, and then, the world again went black.

It was daylight when Grady woke again. The bright sunshine sent new waves of pain through his skull. Despite it, he forced his eyes open. His curiosity to know where he was, and whom he was with, was stronger than the pain. When his eyes could finally focus, the first thing he saw was a set of large brown eyes staring back at him.

Sitting no more than five feet away was the largest creature he had ever laid eyes on. It had a long, silver mane, mixed with strands of reddish-brown hair. Its head was the size of a basketball with a nose wider than the palm of Grady’s hand. Sitting as it was, he guessed the creature’s head at about five feet up the tree trunk. Grady closed his eyes and opened them again, waiting for the adrenalin rush of fear he was sure would come.

Instead, he found himself strangely calm. The creature’s gaze was not malevolent; in fact, Grady thought he saw concern in the creature’s eyes. Grady found himself almost entranced by the magnificent silver beast. They continued staring at one another for the better part of an hour.

Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2006 Pat Barker.

Finally, Grady felt comfortable enough to break eye contact. He slowly turned his head and looked back over his shoulder. He was lying only a few feet from the edge of a drop-off! Looking around him, he realized he was on a peninsula, surrounded on three sides by a sheer drop-off of about 100 feet. His only way off the rock face was past the silver sasquatch. As waves of dizziness flooded his mind, it suddenly made sense to him. They’re holding me captive!

John brought Ole Ned to a halt and dismounted. He tied the reins in a half hitch around a dogwood sapling. The three researchers dismounted on shaky legs and followed his example as best they could. It was now nine o’clock in the morning and they had arrived at John’s campsite where the incident had occurred.

“You men mind where you step and follow me,” John directed. “I’ll show you what happened.”

John fought off an ominous feeling that gave him shivers as he led the trio to the center of the campsite. He recalled the events as they had occurred that night. Bryan had heard the story from John several times already, but for Rusty and Levi, it was the first telling. All three listened with rapt attention as John spoke with detached emotion spinning the tale for them in the very spot the incident occurred.

Levi began to ask a question after John had completed the story. Before he could get the first syllable out, John began swearing under his breath. The three struggled to keep up as John increased his pace and walked to the opposite end of the campsite. The old cowboy knelt down low and studied the ground carefully. He picked up a small twig and traced something light in the earth. “Y’all stay put,” John snapped. He tread carefully and walked slowly forward.

After John had gone a comfortable distance, the three researchers turned to one another and began talking in whispers. “That guy is as crazy as an outhouse rat!” Rusty whispered frantically.

“Well,” Levi replied in a slow drawl, “that or just maybe he’s been through one hell of an ordeal.”

“You think he’s telling the truth?” Bryan questioned.

“I figure we’ll know pretty soon,” Levi replied. “If he’s lying, he’ll have to start making up some excuses pretty quick.”

John turned and looked back over his shoulder. “Grab the horses and follow me,” he hollered.

The trio quickly complied. Bryan grabbed John’s horse, along with the packhorse tied behind. John was moving more quickly now and the three researchers struggled to keep up while pulling their mounts through the thick underbrush. Finally, John stopped and waited for them to catch up. Gathered in a semi-circle around him, they waited for whatever news he had to report.

“They’ve been back since I left out of here yesterday morning,” he told them matter-of-factly.

“The sasquatch?” Rusty asked in confusion.

“No, the Leprechauns,” John snapped. Levi let out a load chortle.

“How do you know they were back?” Bryan asked.

“They cleaned out all the tracks around the campsite,” John replied. “They even cleaned up the drag marks and scuff-prints.” An alarm went off in Bryan’s mind. He recalled Levi’s remarks a few moments before about how if John were lying, he would have to start making up excuses soon. Disappointment washed over him. Turning to Levi, he saw a look of disgust, and knew he was thinking the same thing.

John didn’t catch the doubtful looks being exchanged. He was too busy staring at the ground with a goofy grin on his face. “They must have been in a hurry, though. They only cleared off the areas immediately around the campsite. I picked up their trail again about 80 yards back. It’s going to be easy to follow.”

“Yeah,” Levi stated, “you mind if we have a look at this trail?”

John’s goofy grin turned to a coy smile as he continued staring at the ground. “Look down,” he said with a short nod of his head. Levi and the others followed John’s line of sight. Levi’s mouth fell agape. “That’s the damndest track I ever saw!”

Only a few feet from where they were standing was a large, clear print. “And y’all call yourself researchers,” John laughed.

Throughout the morning, Grady had run a gauntlet of emotions. Waking up in the arms of a sasquatch had been frightening to say the least. Awakening again with a giant silver monster staring at him had been strangely peaceful. Realizing he was a captive and trapped on a bluff had left him with a feeling of hopelessness.

Grady had never been much good at being depressed. As the sun rose higher, so did his level of frustration. The peaceful glare of the silver beast began to irritate him. He hadn’t had a bite to eat all morning. Worst of all, the damned beast had apparently stolen his tobacco!

Grady knew he was making a big mistake, but at this point, he did not much care. He rose to his feet, ignoring a fresh jolt of pain in his temples. He slowly, but deliberately, took a step forward until his feet were even with that of the sasquatch. The eyes of the beast showed no concern.

This irritated Grady even more. He regarded the sasquatch with the meanest look he could muster. “I don’t know just what the hell kind of ungodly spawn of Satan you are, but I’ll be damned if I’m going to lie here and die while you watch! I’m walking the hell off this bluff and if you gotta problem with that, you better damn sure be ready for a fight!” Grady’s voice grew in pitch and volume and he felt his grip of control slip away.

“I may not be a big ole sumbitch like you,” Grady continued, “but I ain’t had a chew of tobacco in a long damn time, and I ain’t had nothin to eat in even longer! What that spells for your silver ass, is one fat, angry cowboy that would rather wup a bear right now than sit here one more damned second!”

The silver sasquatch had begun a low, rumbling growl that grew in intensity along with Grady’s tone. The peaceful gaze, Grady had observed all morning, was now gone. That didn’t stop Grady. The irate cowboy finished his disgruntled speech and took a measured step around the sitting beast.

Like a silver streak of lightning, the arm of the beast shot forward. A hand the size of a baseball glove gripped the cowboy’s left leg tightly. Grady lost the small shred of control that remained in him. Without thought, he instinctually spun and brought down a violent blow to the brow of his captor. The sasquatch roared and shot to its feet, never losing its grip on Grady’s thigh. Grady was quickly flipped to the ground. He hit hard, but didn’t feel it. Cursing like a madman, he used his free leg, and kicked violently with the heel of his boot, striking his captor squarely in the mouth.

The sasquatch recoiled and released its grip. A trickle of blood ran down its lip and into its thick mane. The beast was stunned, but only for a moment. It then let out a deafening roar! Grady crawled desperately on hands and knees, trying to gain his feet. The silver giant watched with a furious glare, but did not advance. Grady had his head turned, watching the beast, when he finally gained his feet. He had taken no more than two steps when he ran into something solid that knocked him sprawling backward. Stunned, he looked up and saw not one, but three sasquatch. His vision blurred momentarily from the impact. When it cleared, the silver giant was standing over him.

Again, in desperation, he grabbed a handful of hair and started pulling himself up. “You’d better kill me, you sumbitch!” he hollered. “I’m gonna…”

Before he could complete the sentence, a silver fist slammed into his face and quieted him for the time being. He went limp and rolled onto the ground unconscious.

The silver giant wiped the blood from its lower lip and held his hand out for the others to see. The trio of sasquatch grunted and moved forward in a curious manner. A female, covered in long black hair, leaned forward and sniffed at his finger. She mumbled something in a guttural tone, and then leaned her head back and screamed as she beat her chest in a drumming manner. The other two mimicked her display and filled the woods with a horrifying cacophony.

Continue to Chapter 7 of A New Reality

We ask that you respect both the author’s and the illustrator’s copyrights and do not download or post these works on other sites.