Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-40022501-20190927044821

I pulled into the little mountain town at about 10:30 A.M. I looked at the thermostat on the dash of the new Dodge. It read a bone-chilling -24 below. I pulled into the nearly-abandoned campground and found the 5 arctic-grade tents that I recommended for this hunt. Me, Shelby, Jake, and Sarah would all get one of the 4 smaller, private tents to ourselves while agent Jones would stay in the larger tent that would double as a headquarters and cafeteria for this hunt. I unloaded the 40 huskies out of the custom-built dog box on the back of the Dodge and set up a lean-to structure that would serve as their house for the next couple of weeks. I then made my way to the H.Q tent and check the fire burning in the wood-burning stove; It was nearly out. I mentally questioned my team's basic winter survival abilities while I patiently built a roaring fire to warm the tent. I was enjoying the warmth of the fire when I heard the black S.U.V pull into the campsite. "Whoa, nice ride," Jake commented on the new truck. "I thought you drove an old Ford?" Sarah questioned. "I did" I replied while looking sharply at Jones Jake, putting two-and-two together, jokingly questioned "You bought him a truck? where's my bonus?" Jones, always serious answered, "I... we... we needed dogs and... do you know another musher with a security clearance?" Shelby then broke into our conversation "C'mon the pizza is getting cold". We went inside and ate, then Jones broke the small talk. We all knew why we were here but Jones finally explained in detail what happened. Turns out that a group of 5 snowmobilers went into the backcountry for a weekend trip. They were found dead the following Tuesday, or I should say, What was left of them was found dead, the bodies were severely mutilated, eaten by some strange beast. The bodies were found in their campsite, which had been completely trashed by whatever had done this. All 5 snowmobiles were found at the campsite unharmed, in operating condition. Meaning that whatever happened, It happened so fast that they couldn't run to there machines to escape. There where no tracks found do too high wind having blown away the tracks. The locals had removed the bodies but had not disturbed anything else, So we decided to head to the crime scene early the next morning to asses the situation properly. At daybreak I Hitched teams of dogs to the 4 dogsleds I had brought with me, two racing-style sleds to be used to move quickly if needed, (nicknamed the "corvette sleds" by Jake) a large freighting-style sled, for moving bulk gear, (the "trucker sled") and a multi-passenger touring style sled (the "station wagon"). I gave everyone a crash-course in dog mushing and assigned everyone a sled, I was to lead the way on a corvette sled, followed by Jake on the trucker sled, then Jones and Shelby on the station wagon, then Sarah in the rear on a corvette sled. The trip was pure hell for me, Jake complained constantly about not getting a corvette sled, and Jones couldn't keep from falling off, Shelby grumbled nonstop about the cold. In fact, the only person who seemingly enjoyed the trip was Sarah, who learned the difficult task of steering the sled with ease, Never once complaining, she was pretty impressive for a rookie musher, and I'm not easily impressed. We arrived at the murder scene after a couple of hours. They had picked a good spot for a camp, surrounded on three sides by trees, but still in the heart of the mountains, perfect riding country. I quickly surveyed the small campsite. There were three small arctic-grade tents, equipped with small propane heaters for warmth. Apparently, the victims had been a group of two women and three men. The tents were collapsed from the snowstorm on the night of the murder, But upon entering the last semi-standing tent I found about a dozen beer cans on the scattered on the floor of the tent, with another 12-pack in the corner. I kicked around in the snow and found the remains of a campfire. It had burned to nothing but ashes, telling me it had burned out on its own and was not put out, so the campers must have been awake at the start of the attack. Jones approached me "What do you think happened?" "Whatever it was hit so hard and fast that they couldn't even get to there snowmobiles, and it didn't help that these folks were probably drunk. Sitting around the campfire, not paying attention." After a brief silence, Jones spoke up. "I got a couple of things to fill out here, and I want to take some pictures of the scene." I thought of the best thing to do and responded: " I'm gonna go search around over there in the trees, the wind wouldn't have hit them so badly and maybe I could find some tracks." The group of trees was roughly 1,000 yards up the mountain to the north, further away from the town in the valley below. The most likely spot for a...animal?... to retreat to. Jones looked at the trees and replied "Them trees look a good distance away. Take your radio and Jake." I nodded in agreement and found Jake sitting on one of the dog sleds." "Hey Jake, you wanna take a look up there in that group of trees," I said, motioning to the said trees. He slowly rose from his seat, glanced up at the trees up ahead and said, "Sure, I guess" "You got your rifle?" I casually asked. "Nah, I left it back in my tent." He answered. "Got a sidearm?" I questioned, hoping he wouldn't have been foolish as to come to the backcountry unarmed. "Yeah I got my Glock" he answered. "Oh okay, do you carry a 40 S&W or 45 A.C.P?" I curiously replied, slightly relieved. "9x19mm Parabellum, what about you?" he asked "9mm! what the hell you gonna do with a 9mm?" I asked, quite aggravated. "What do you mean?" he asked, completely bewildered. "I mean, we're not fighting people. Whatever we are out here hunting ripped three people apart before anyone of them could do a damn thing about it. You think you're gonna put what did that down with something that takes multiple shots to kill a person?" I stated now quite angry at his ignorance. He returned my anger in kind, "Go to hell Josh. Who the hell do you think you are. I'll carry what I damn well, please. You like to walk around like you're in charge or something but hear me now, you ain't my superior." For a moment I considered knocking his teeth out for his ignorance, and attitude, but before I could act Jones stepped between us. "Settle down you two," he said angrily, "I didn't make this team fight against ourselves dammit!" he shouted. Pausing for a moment, then continuing, "Shelby, why don't you go with Josh." "Fuck that, I'll godammit" Jake responded. Jones looked at me for confirmation, I just nodded once. "Jake go ahead and jump on Sarah's corvette sled. The snow is hard on top but icy, We'll have to put booties on the dogs to protect there feet." I directed Jake. He nodded once in confirmation. I quickly put the booties on the dogs and looked up to see Jake on the runners of his sled, and off we went. We arrived at the treeline and quickly anchored off the dogs. I walked over to help Jake and seem a small spec of blood on one of his leader's paw; also noticing that her one of her booties was missing, "Goddammit." I said with clear aggravation. "What?" Jake asked. Upon closer inspection, I found he had put several booties on wrong so that they could easily fall off. "You put the damn booties on wrong" I answered. "Excuse me," Jake said sarcastically. I shook my head and replied "I think, I'll fix it, would have worked better" "Kiss my ass" was his reply. I started to head into the woods and he soon started to follow. We searched for a couple of hours in an uneasy silence. Until I found a track. "Hey, come here" I motioned for Jake. "What in god's name is that from?" He asked. "I...don't know," I said. The track was about 2 foot long and 1 foot wide, With long toes ending with 6 inch long claws. They were fresh, fresher than they should have been. "They're heading north", I said. "But I want to see where they came from, follow the tracks backwards to find out." I told Jake. "Sure." He answered. "And take my rifle, wouldn't want this thing to shove that 9 mil' up your ass." I mocked "Ha-Ha fucking funny" he replied, obviously annoyed. I began following the tracks northward, chuckling lightly to myself. What kind of fool would come up here with a damn peashooter? Jake didn't strike me as an idiot, but now I found myself questioning my teammate. Even if he carried a small pistol and an adequate rifle, He would at least be able to walk safely, but no, the dumbass left his rifle at camp. So now I am left with nothing but my 45 colt, while adequate, it lacked the range and sheer knockdown power of my 45-70. My internal rant was inturrupted by the slightest movement out of the corner of my eye. I quickly spun towards it, crouched, and focused my sight on it. The beast was climbing up a steep bluff 250 yards to my 10 0'clock. It was too far to accurately tell, but it looked to be at least 10-14 feet tall. with what looked like 3-foot antlers growing from its head. It finally reached a small ledge, and stood, looking on the valley below him. I slowly pulled my pistol from its holster, knowing it would be useless at this range, but the familiar weight in my hand was reassuring. The beast luckily did not see me, and turned and ducked into a low cave. I quickly made my way back down the mountain with extra caution. Finally, I made my way to the two parked dog-teams. Where Jake was waiting for me. "Where the hell have you been?" He questioned, handing back my rifle. "I saw it," I replied. "Seen what?" He asked with curiosity. "To hell, if I know," I replied. We quickly readied the dogs and made our way to the ruined campsite where everyone had been waiting. On our arrival, Jones started questioning. "You two get lost?" "No, we found something," I replied. "Found what?" He asked "Tracks, Coming from that ridge," Jake answered, pointing to a tall bluff about a mile to the west. "Fresh, only about an hour or two old" I added "My guess is you followed them?" Jones asked me. 'Yeah, I followed them" I answered. "What did you find?" He asked again. "I... don't really know," I answered. He nodded quickly, "Sarah !" He yelled. I quickly described the creature to Sarah while we packed our gear to go. Answering any and all questions she had. Then we quickly returned to our campsite. I started a fire in Jones's tent. (No one else could) While Sarah started to research what I had seen. I decided to ask Jake more about what he saw. "Hey Jake, You mentioned that you followed the tracks that lead to that ridge. What can you tell me about them?" I asked. " Yeah, them tracks led right to that ridge and, well it looked to me like it was...watching." He answered. " Watching us, huh. It must be pretty smart. " I stated. " Wonder why though," Jake asked no one in particular. " When wolves return to a kill, they'll sit back and watch before they'll come back in on the carcass, to make sure that nothing has disturbed it. If they see something wrong, they leave it alone, too risky for them." I answered " Yeah, if this thing is anything, it's smart," Sarah commented as she re-entered the tent. " What do you have on it? " I questioned. " It's pretty scary. From what you described to me, I think it's what they call a wendigo." Sarah answered " What's a wendigo." Jones asked. " I have heard a little from some of the native guides. They say a wendigo is like a... spirit of forest or something. They say that a wendigo represents the evil of cannibalism. That if a person eats another they become a wendigo, they say that a wendigo can drive a man mad and then posses him, making him crave human flesh. Wendigo often can represent extreme hunger, cold, and any sort of evil really. But I was always told it was just a legend." I informed the group " But our buddy didn't possess anyone, and nobody ate no one so that doesn't cover it." Shelby pointed out. " Science tells us that most legends are really just exaggerated versions of the truth," Sarah said. "From what I've learned about them is that they are a lot like the yeti, but a thinner, taller version." She added. " So... Bigfoot's Eskimo cousin?" Jake asked assuredly. " Pretty much," Sarah confirmed. " So how do we trap it?" Jones asked. " It's a cave-dwelling creature, So the thing to do is wait until it leaves its cave, set your trap in the cave, and simply wait until it returns. One problem though." I stated. " What is it?" Asked Jones. That cave-trap method, it works with a bear or wolf when they leave to go hunting, but this thing leaves to hunt people." I answered. "We'll close the whole area to people. Blame avalanche danger or something." Said Jones. "Josh, Draw up some design for a trap, I'll have a local start building it immediately, Then I need you to head out into the backcountry and tell everyone to go home. I don't need anyone else getting killed. Take someone with you." He issued me the order and I simply nodded my head and went to work, it was a good plan. I drew up an easy design for a large cage-trap and sent Jones on his way, I thought about who to take and quickly decided on Sarah as she was the best musher of our team, making for a much quicker trip. " Sarah, you busy?" I asked. "No, not really, why?" She answered. "I need someone that can actually ride a sled to help me evacuate the area, I was wondering if you would come?" I said. "Sure, let me grab my gear," She said. She went into her tent then re-emerged a few minutes later with her winter gear and a pistol on her hip. "What are you carrying?" I asked. "Oh, just my dad's old 357. Mag" she answered nonchalantly. I smirked to myself as we were heading out, knowing Jake would be embarrassed to know that even inexperienced Sarah knew to carry a large pistol. We searched the surrounding Maine countryside. We found a few different groups of snowmobilers and sent them home. Some gave trouble, but no one argued once I showed them my F.B.I badge Jones supplied me. Things took a drastic turn when we were on our way back to camp. We were mushing along a trail that ran on top of a steep bluff that sloped down into a heavily forested valley, and eventually a frozen river. That is where we saw it, the beast was following the river north, the opposite way we were traveling. I stopped the team and anchored the still-fresh dogs off to a nearby tree. Quietly instructing Sarah to do the same. "Do you see it?" She whispered. "Yeah," I responded, pointing at it through the various trees. I retrieved my rifle and my binoculars from my sled-bag to try to get a better view. As I said, the creature was heading north along the river, so I figured that it was probably leaving its den. As it's den was located to the southwest of our position. It was probably hungry and looking for food. I couldn't find it. "You got your phone?" I asked. "Yeah" She answered. "Call Jake and Shelby, tell em' to haul ass out here," I commanded. "What about Jones?" Sarah asked. "Call him after Jake," I answered. "What are you gonna do?" She asked. "This thing is killing and eating people. I've got no choice." I answered. She shook her head slightly in approval, although I knew she was disappointed. "I know" she sighed. I quickly found the creature in the valley below. Still oblivious to our presence. The wind was coming from the north-west, Definitely in my favor. I strapped on my snowshoes and began descending down the cliff. I made my way down along the river and silently started north. When I last saw the beast, it was a little over a mile ahead of me, but because the snow was deep it was moving slowly, much slower than me with my snowshoes. It took me over an hour, and it was almost dark when I found it. It had stopped at an unfrozen spot of the river to get a drink when I spotted it. So I silently laid on the ground and slowly crawled through the snow, it's cold stinging my face, to a nearby ice-covered log. I steadied my rifle on the log, taking aim, then slowly cocking the rifle's hammer with a metallic click. the beast must've heard the click because it suddenly turned and stood just as I fired. The bullet hit the animal in the upper hip, knocking it to the ground on its stomach. The creature let out a pained howl, as it struggled fruitlessly to get to its feet. I rose from my shooting position and approached the beast intending to put the damn thing out of its misery. Just as I shouldered the rifle and worked its lever action, I heard Sarah scream. "WAIT!" she yelled. I turned and looked down the river to see Jake and Sarah about 100 yards away approaching quickly on the station wagon. They pulled up beside me and stopped the sled. "Tranq darts," Jake said, Holding up an air-powered dart gun. He walked over and shot the animal with one, and within a couple minutes it was out like a light. "Do you think it will live?" Jake asked. "It should, I shot it in the hip," I answered. "Yeah, about that," Jake said, smirking. "It moved at the last second" I explained. "Uh-huh," Jake answered, still smirking. "At least I brought my rifle." I retorted with my own smirk. "Ok, fine," Jake said, chuckling slightly. "How are we gonna get this thing outta here?" I wondered out loud. "Jones is on his way with a helicopter and some agents, they'll take it from here," Sarah answered. Two hours later I was helping to load the still sleeping cryptid in the back of a semi-truck to be hauled of to...who knows. after we finished up Jones approached me. "You did another excellent job here Josh." He complemented "Just doing my job," I answered. "So can I count on you for more hunts in the future?" He asked. "Of course, anytime," I answered  