Track of the Beast: A Brock Stone Adventure

Stone waited until his friend was out of sight before getting started. He took time to focus, to drink in the surroundings. The sights, sounds, and smells of the forest drew into sharp focus. He imagined Trinity walking along this same path. What had she been thinking, walking alone into this camp? What had become of her? There were too many possibilities to sort through, nearly all of them unsavory. The one thing he knew for certain was that she had been inside the lumber camp, so that was where he intended to begin. Stealing a glance over his shoulder to make sure no one followed, he stepped off the dirt road and melted into the forest.

Stone was an experienced woodsman. He’d learned woodscraft as a youth growing up in Virginia, refined it in the service, and continued to master it during the years since. He found it easy to move in silence upon the soft earth here, and the trees provided more than adequate cover. He crept unseen back to the lumber camp and watched.

It wasn’t long before Davis turned up. The man wore a sour expression, and paced back and forth, head down, hands in pockets. The lumberjacks filtered out of the camp and back to work until only Davis and another man remained. Stone crept closer as the two began to speak.

“…have a feeling we haven’t seen the last of that fellow,” the second man was saying.

“Nothing I can do about that. And we don’t have anything to hide. The woman came here, asked a few questions, and then she left.”

“I know that, and you know that, but he doesn’t seem the sort to be so easily convinced.”

Stone breathed a sigh of relief. Trinity hadn’t been taken or harmed by the men in the lumber camp. That had seemed the simplest and likeliest scenario. But if she wasn’t here, then what had happened to her?

He sat listening for a short while, but the men’s conversation turned to business. No further mention of Trinity. Satisfied, Stone resumed his search.

Stone worked his way in a slowly expanding circle around the camp, keeping an eye open for signs that Trinity had passed this way. He knew it was possible that she had simply taken the road back to town, in which case her footprints would likely be obscured by the feet that had trodden and vehicles that had driven the route. But he knew Trinity, knew her persistence and downright stubbornness. He was certain she would not have left the camp without nosing around a bit first.

He grinned. That was something the two of them apparently had in common.

He searched until the sounds of the camp grew distant. How much longer should he continue before giving it up and going to meet Moses? Somehow, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something here to find. He would give it a bit longer.

He stepped into a patch of deep shade and a feeling of foreboding washed over him. Here the massive trees grew close together, denying the sun’s light and warmth. He halted, closed his eyes, and allowed himself to feel his surroundings. He knew in an instant that it was more than just deep shade. Something was… wrong about this place.

He took a deep breath through his nostrils. He caught the faint scent of something wild, primitive. He couldn’t quite place it, but it sent a shiver down his spine. Whatever it was, he hoped Trinity had not run across it.

Something caught his eye and he knelt for a closer inspection. A partial print, the heel of a small boot. His heart raced. He could not say for certain that it belonged to Trinity, but it certainly could be. And he doubted any man in the lumber camp wore such a small shoe. He scanned the surrounding area and found a few more prints, shallow and faint. They vanished after a few paces.

Stone began a careful inspection of the surrounding area. There had to be something here. Tracking was difficult with so many pine needles lining the forest floor, but he finally found another print deeper in the forest, then another. Trinity, he was now certain it was her, had definitely been moving away from the road, and not in the direction of the camp. So where had she been going?

He kept moving in that direction, picking up an occasional sign — a broken twig, a scuff at the base of a tree. And then a larger print caught his eye. A large work boot, like the ones worn by the camp workers, headed in the same direction as the smaller prints. Had Trinity been chased, or perhaps stalked?

He was determined not to give in to the worst case scenario. It was possible that Trinity had merely been snooping around and someone had followed to see what she was up to. The presence of another person did not necessarily mean that she had met with foul play.

He continued his search, but the footprints disappeared. He searched all around, but could spot no more signs. It was as if both people had up and vanished. Of course, that was absurd. There were plenty of reasons that they would leave no obvious tracks as they moved deeper into the forest, the dense layer of leaves being foremost among them.