This story is the eighth chapter of a fictional series by SRI’s 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. John is tracking bigfoot with the group from Midsouth Bigfoot Research Center. Grady is still alive, but are these the friendly giants the researchers seem to think they are?

If you haven’t already, read Chapter 7 of A New Reality or start at the beginning.

Chapter VIII

John had their full attention as he stared into their eyes across the campfire. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, they had some grit, and at least seemed worthy of some trust. Hell, John thought, what choice do I have but to trust them?

The four men were sitting lazily around a low burning campfire. Steam was blowing from the spout of a pot of coffee, resting on a rock surrounded by hot coals. The wind was unpredictable, giving all four a face full of smoke from time to time. Two tin cans, having once contained ranch style beans, now lay black with soot in the heart of the fire. The buzz of cicadas sounded from the nearby cedars and an occasional hoot from an owl or piercing cry of a coyote echoed from the bottoms on the other side of the valley.

The men had ridden hard all day. Sleep would come easily, despite the rough conditions. Of them all, John’s eyes were the brightest, but appeared haunted. It had been a night similar to this one, just a few evenings prior, when he and Grady had been raided by the sasquatch.

The men all gazed at John McBride, impatiently waiting to hear what he was thinking. He let them know he had a plan, but seemed to be milking the moment for dramatic affect or perhaps just arranging his thoughts before he spoke. Off in the distance, a screech owl sounded its haunting rendition of a hoot. As though it was a cue for him to begin, John looked up and began to speak. “I’m guessing by now that you men are starting to realize that this isn’t some romantic search for the Holy Grail.”

He phrased it as a question, but meant it as a statement of fact. His words hung in the air as he paused. No one attempted to say anything, so he continued.

“The fact that you men need to keep in mind at all times is that my best friend is out there somewhere. If he’s not already dead, he’s probably not far from it.” John’s eyes were hard as steel, but glistened lightly with the tears he held back with practiced perfection. “Grady and I are as about as close as two men can be. War has a way of bringing men together, you see. Grady and I, we bled together.” John spoke with no emotion, his voice as rough as gravel. “We killed together.”

Rusty shifted his weight and leaned forward as if to speak. Levi nudged him with a quick elbow in the side and shook his head. John was working up to something important and Levi wanted to hear him out.

“When we were over in the jungles of Vietnam, we were assigned to a company of scouts. Our job was to determine where enemy placements were located and how strong they were. We all had different specialties.”

“Grady was a sniper. He gave us cover from a distance when need be. Some of the men jokingly called him St. Grady, because he was our guardian angel in a sense. He saved our butts on many occasions. If there ever was a crack shot in a tough situation, it was St. Grady.”

John leaned back a little on his saddle, which he had propped up behind him. His eyes now appeared far away, caught up in his own memories.

“My specialty was tracking.” John’s eyes met that of each man. “I partially learned it from my dad, but my skills were honed in the army. I was trained by the best of the best. The enemy moved often, making our jobs as scouts a key part of planning both offensive and defensive strategies. We were pressed for time, more often than not, and time was life in war…or more precisely — death. The longer it took us to pinpoint and mark enemy positions, the more soldiers who were sent home in body bags.”

John paused, his thoughts lost somewhere in the distant memories. Rusty, despite his recent shot to the ribs, took the opportunity to speak. “What’s this got to do with today…with our current situation?”

John regarded the young man with a cold stare. “Well, young man, the way I see it, we’re in a very similar situation. There’s a man’s life on the line, and if we don’t find the enemy soon, he’s likely going to die.”

“If he’s not already dead,” Rusty blurted out without thinking.

John shot across the campfire in a blur of movement. One moment he had been resting easily against his saddle. In the next, he was astraddle Rusty with his thumbs buried deep in the man’s neck. Bryan and Levi both raised to their knees, shocked at the suddenness of the attack. Neither made a move to stop John, choosing instead to give him a moment to make his point.

“You will learn some manners if you expect to keep camp with me, boy!” John hissed, just inches from Rusty’s face. “I just told you what this man means to me and now you have the nerve to nonchalantly tell me he may be dead! You think I don’t know that?” John yelled.

John released Rusty with a grunt of frustration, rose to his feet and stepped back around the fire to his saddle. Nobody said a word as he eased himself back to the ground and leaned back against his saddle. Rusty lay on his back motionless for a full minute catching his breath. Finally, he rose back to a sitting position with an indignant look on his face. “I really don’t think that was —”

“Son!” John barked. “I suggest keeping your mouth shut and listening!”

“Let the man talk, Rusty,” Levi said quietly.

Bryan nodded his head in agreement.

John stared straight ahead into Rusty’s eyes for what seemed an eternity. It was almost as though he were daring him to break the silence. Finally, Rusty broke eye contact and cast his stare downward.

Satisfied he had their attention, John continued. “There are good trackers and there are great trackers. A good tracker can trail just about anything, anywhere. He may never catch up to his quarry, but he keeps the trail until he gets so far behind, the trail goes cold with age.”

“A great tracker,” John continued, “realizes that his prey can move faster than he can track. A great tracker makes a study of the animal he tracks. He looks for patterns and anticipates movements. I told you all earlier that I think these creatures are following Swine Creek. This branch meanders around, but it heads straight south. These animals ain’t dumb. They know I’ve already caught up to them once. They’re keeping a good pace, and they already have a day’s lead on us. I figure they’re going to keep heading south until they hit the Red River.”

Bryan sensed the time was now right to interject. “Are you suggesting we try to head them off?”

John nodded. “I know the area where the Swine dumps into the river quite well. About a half-mile north of where they meet is a thin stretch of timber…a funnel, if you will. That’s were we’ll make our stand.”

“Our stand?” Levi questioned.

John regarded the men solemnly. “I realize you guys spend a lot of time trying to find these creatures. Hell, I don’t know the first thing about them, except what I’ve seen in the last few days. But I can tell you this; these things ain’t to be fooled with. They’re smart, they’re strong and they ain’t going to ever be your friends. You can get those types of fool thoughts out of your minds. I called y’all up here to help me. If you want to see these creatures and study them, you better start realizing it’s going to be a corpse you’ll be studying.”

Bryan felt silly for saying it, but felt his must hold true to himself. “We don’t believe in killing these animals, John.”

“So I’ve heard you say,” John answered. “But the problem is this. I need a commitment from you men. As they say in the army, you’re either my friend or my enemy. You’re either with me or against me.”

“We’re with you, John,” Levi said quietly, “but that doesn’t mean killing these creatures is the only answer. Besides, who’s to say we’d even stand a chance if we decided to go along with your plan?”

“You got a better idea?” John asked.

Levi sat silently, contemplating the question.

“I’ll take that as a no.” John smiled knowingly. “You see, it’s real easy to sit back and imagine holding hands with bigfoot and singing Give Peace a Chance, but when it comes down to it, these are wild animals. This ain’t no Disney movie we’re dealing with here, boys. This is man versus nature in the extreme.”

“Imagine if it were your friend or loved one out there with these beasts. What would you do? Would you sit around and dream about how you’re going to win their trust over, or would you face reality, man up and go show them why humans are the most successful predators on earth?”

“Maybe it’s time we called in for some help,” Rusty offered. “We could call the police. Maybe the wildlife department would have some idea about how to tranquilize them or something.”

John laughed aloud, but there was no humor in his rough voice. “Wake the hell up, Brian! Do you think for a second that they would do anything but laugh at you. Hell, a week ago, I would have thought you three were a bunch of fruitcakes. We’re on our own here - and besides, there’s no time for all that. If they make it to the Red River, we’ll lose our chance. That’s some thick country in those bottoms. There likely won’t be another chance for an ambush like this.”

“I don’t know, John,” Bryan said, frustration marking his voice. “Do you really think guns a blazin’ is the best strategy? What if we just fired up in the air and made a commotion. They’d probably run off and leave Grady behind.”

John considered that for a moment. “I’m not risking Grady’s life on a maybe because you men don’t have the stomach to kill a few animals.” John stood up from the campfire and stretched his arms back over his head. “Let me put it to you this way. I appreciate you men coming out and offering your help. Tomorrow morning, I’m cutting ahead of these creatures and setting up an ambush. When they get in range, I’m going to do my best to kill every one of them. That’s my plan, and it’s the only reasonable plan I can see as having a chance. If you are willing to go along with this plan, and I mean one hundred percent, then you can go along with me, and I’ll be glad to have you along. Otherwise, tomorrow morning, we’re splitting company.”

John snatched up his bedroll and flung it open behind the saddle. He lay down on his back and adjusted his hat over his eyes. The fire crackled and cicadas sang. The three men left sitting at the fire could only stare at one another.

“I’ll say no more about it,” John said from under his hat. “You men feel free to discuss it amongst yourselves. I won’t interrupt. I don’t care how you come to a decision, but you better have an answer for me in the morning.”

Grady stared deep into the brown eyes of the mother sasquatch, who in turn was staring intently back at him with her powerful, long arms wrapped protectively around her infant. Grady felt almost as if she were reading his mind, judging the level of danger he posed to her baby.

Just moments before, Doc had run hysterically into the dark timber. His adolescent playmate, Psycho, was not far behind. Rhino had been hot on the youngster’s tail, apparently enraged that Psycho had dared to test his dominance. The rest of the clan had followed Rhino, curious and in a frenzy. Only the mother, a tall and lanky sasquatch with thin brown hair, along with her infant, had stayed behind.

Grady eyed the young mother thoughtfully, carefully weighing his options. What would she do if I took off running, he wondered. Surely she wouldn’t chase me…not with a baby to care for. I may never get another chance like this. Without breaking eye contact with the female, Grady carefully leaned forward, placing his hands on the ground. He pushed himself up slowly to his feet and straightened, pretending to just stretch his legs.

Grady cringed upon hearing a low rumbling growl emitting from deep in the female’s chest, but she made no move to stop him. She continued staring at him with her infant tucked closely under her chin. “I’m not going to hurt the little squirt,” Grady said in his most soothing voice. “I’m just going to take a short walk and stretch my legs a bit. You stay here and watch the little one.”

Grady began to slowly back away. He was just about to turn and make a run for it when he ran into something solid. The ominous growl that followed told him that it was not a tree. His heart beating furiously with fear, Grady took a deep breath. Putting on the most innocent face he could muster, he turned around to face the beast behind him. He expected to see Rhino, but was surprised to see it was the other adult male.

This male was a full foot shorter than Rhino and not nearly as muscular in build, but he still dwarfed Grady in comparison. His hair was a mixture of blacks, browns, and various shades of red, giving him a camouflage look. The fur was thick and tangled, giving the coat a resemblance to a ghilly suit.

“You shouldn’t be sneaking up on people like that, buddy,” Grady said in a friendly, but strained voice. “You could give an old man like me a heart attack.” He forced a laugh as he stepped back towards his earlier resting spot. “You’d make a good sniper, you know.” He chuckled nervously. “I should know, I was once one myself.”

Grady slid to the ground as he reached the tree trunk. Sniper, Grady thought disgustedly. He’s earned that name. I’ll have to be weary of him. He’s a sneaking old cuss!

Slowly, the sasquatch came filtering back into the encampment. Doc was among them, although he looked to have lost his earlier exuberance. Strangely, Grady felt a sense of relief in seeing the youngster. There was something about the young sasquatch that made Grady smile, despite his dire circumstances.

The sasquatch were lumbering about the bottoms, but not wandering far. There was a sense of anxiety in the air, as though they were nervous about something. Grady had an idea about what was on their minds. Psycho, the renegade youngster had not returned with the others. Grady couldn’t help but wonder about the youngster’s fate. Surely, Rhino didn’t kill the little guy, Grady thought to himself. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, the thought of the crazy little guy being dead was disturbing and brought a knot of pity into his stomach.

The sun was setting low and the wooded bottom grew shadowy. Grady strained his eyes to find the silver monarch he’d come to call Rhino. Grady knew it didn’t make sense, but he wanted to confront the silver beast and find out what happened to Psycho. He spotted the large male near the stream where he had taken water earlier. Rhino was standing next to Sniper and the two of them appeared to be interacting in some way. In the darkness it was hard to tell, but they appeared to be facing one another from just a few feet distance. Sniper stood with a slightly bent posture watching the older male closely.

Wanting a better view of what was taking place, Grady started walking towards the two males. When he was just a few yards away, he stopped and watched in fascination. At just that moment, Rhino reached out pulling a 2-inch sapling right out of the ground. Waving the tree above his head and shaking it with vigor, he let out a series of whoops and screams. He began jumping around the younger male, stopping from time to time to bare his teeth and puff out his chest.

After a few minutes, Grady realized that he must be witnessing some type of dominance display. The behavior display continued for several minutes. All the while, Sniper simply stood his ground watching without response. Finally, after about the fourth display of this type, Grady saw Sniper crouch low to the ground and let out a small whimpering sound, which seemed to please Rhino. The displays stopped. Turning in the general direction of the other sasquatch, Rhino cupped both hands, put them to his mouth and let out a howl that sounded to Grady like a fire engine.

Grady quickly figured out that the fire engine noise meant to come together. Within just a few seconds, the entire clan was gathered near the dominant male. They appeared to be waiting for him to lead them. Grady noted that Psycho was still missing. Despite his better judgment, he edged himself carefully through the gathered group and approached the silver male. Rhino looked over the gathered crowd closely.

Standing just a few feet away, Grady looked up into the dark face of Rhino. “What did you do to Psycho?” he asked.

He immediately felt stupid. After all, he knew they didn’t speak English. Furthermore, even if they did, he was the only one who knew the names he had given them. Rhino regarded Grady with a mildly curious stare. A few seconds passed before the silver giant reached out a large hand, grabbing Grady by the shoulder.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing,” Grady yelled, struggling to break the ironclad grip. He tried twisting out of the giant’s grasp, but Rhino was simply too powerful. He considered hitting or kicking him, but he knew it would be futile. Wisely, he stopped his struggle and Rhino softened his grip, but did not release Grady. The giant simply stared down at him for a few moments, apparently judging whether or not he was through struggling. Finally satisfied he had won the test of wills; he started walking while pulling Grady along beside him. The other sasquatch began moving as well, following their obvious leader.

Rhino’s stride was twice that of Grady’s and the old cowboy found he almost had to jog to keep up with the pace. Rhino was walking as though he knew exactly where he was going with the other sasquatch following loyally. The night shadows deepened to twilight as they walked.

The night was overcast with clouds blotting out the moon much of the time. When it did break cover to shine a little light, Grady was able to identify different members of the group. Doc was easiest to spot.

After several hours of walking, the night seemed endless to Grady. Feeling certain he was near the brink of exhaustion, he thought maybe if I fall down Rhino would pick me up and carry me. Hell, he did it before and it didn’t seem to bother him.

Grady was contemplating doing just that when Rhino suddenly came to a halt making a quick grunt. The entire group froze in their tracks. The woods grew suddenly silent. The only sound was Grady’s heavy breathing, as he tried to catch his wind. The sudden halt continued for several minutes, giving Grady the opportunity to finally catch his breath.

Rhino stood tall and seemed to be very alert, his head turning from side to side, as though he was hearing something. Rhino was leaning his head back and sniffing the air. The others in the group seemed to follow his lead, as Grady could suddenly hear a lot of sniffing taking place behind him.

Grady suddenly heard a twig snap somewhere ahead of him in the darkness. It was obvious by Rhino’s reaction that he had heard it as well. A few seconds later, a soft whimpering sound could be heard just ahead, followed by another snap of a twig. It’s getting closer, Grady noted to himself.

They were standing on the top of a small rise in a clearing. Just below them, where the noises appeared to be originating, the timber was much thicker. It was nearly pitch dark, but Grady felt sure he saw something emerge from the tree line just a few yards ahead of them. The clouds overhead cleared for a moment, allowing the moonlight to softly touch the hillside.

In that moment, Grady saw that something had indeed emerged from the tree line, and whatever had emerged was getting closer. The thing appeared to be dark colored and only a few feet tall, yet very wide. As it drew closer, Grady wondered if it might be a bear. He didn’t think there were bear in these parts, but then again, just a few days ago he hadn’t thought there were any sasquatch either.

Click to enlarge.
Copyright 2007 Pat Barker.

As the form drew closer, the whimpering grew louder and Grady slowly began to realize what it was. Rhino was growling as he released Grady’s shoulder. On his hands and knees with his head bowed low to the ground, Psycho was slowly approaching Rhino, whimpering all the way. Grady could not help but feel a flood of sympathy for the youngster and feared what Rhino might do.

Rhino took a step forward, leaving Grady behind. He was now standing directly over Psycho’s prostrate form.

—

Continue to Chapter 9 of A New Reality