Track of the Beast: A Brock Stone Adventure

He kept up the search for another half an hour just to be certain, but he finally had to give it up. He would learn no more from tracking them.

And then he saw it.

Clear as day, in the middle of a patch of exposed earth, a massive footprint. He moved in for a closer look, being careful not to disturb it.

The length was a good eighteen inches, perhaps longer, and about ten inches wide. The toes were long, with an oversized big toe. A few feet farther along, he saw another partial print.

“Well now,” Stone said, “what sort of beast left these tracks?”

Before he could give them a closer inspection, a large figure charged out of the forest and made a beeline for Stone. He rolled to the side as a stout wooden club buried itself in the earth where he had knelt seconds before. He sprang to his feet only to be confronted by another big man, this one wielding an axe. The man swung the weapon at Stone’s head. Stone ducked and the blade missed him by inches. He struck the man with a stiff right cross, sending him staggering back.

Stone whirled around just in time to see the first attacker coming at him again. He dodged another blow of the club, then struck back with two sharp punches that opened the man’s nose. The fellow backed away a few steps, club raised. Over his shoulder, Stone saw the axe man moving in. The two had him hemmed in.

“I would hate to use deadly force here,” Stone said. “Why don’t the two of you tell me what your problem is and we’ll see what we can work out.”

“You are poking around where you don’t belong,” the man with the club said.

“I’m just looking for my friend,” Stone replied.

“Liar. You’re from the government.”

“What would the government want with a lumber camp?” Stone asked, slowly moving his hand toward the spot where he carried his Webley concealed beneath his loose fitted shirt. It wasn’t ideal for quick access.

“It’s not the lumber camp, idiot,” axe man said in a German accent.

“Shut your mouth, Ernst,” barked the club wielder, who was now holding his weapon up like a baseball bat.

“What does it matter? I am about to kill him.”

Stone sensed rather than saw Ernst move. He reached for his weapon, but before Ernst had taken two steps, something struck him from behind. He fell flat on his face, revealing Moses standing behind him.

“Had a feeling you could use some help,” Moses said.

“You were right.”

The man with the club gaped, then turned and ran. Stone sprinted after him. Perhaps Trinity had stumbled across whatever secret these men were trying to protect. If so, he might know something about what happened to her.

It was growing dark, and the dense forest made it impossible to see more than a few feet ahead. Stone and Moses followed the sound of the fleeing man. Their boots slipped on the thick carpet of pine needles that made tracking impossible. The ground sloped sharply downward, and they half ran, half slid forward.

A bloodcurdling shriek split the air. It continued on, slowly fading away. Stone winced. He had heard a man cry out like that only once in his life, in Tibet when a climber had fallen off a ledge. The drop had been a thousand feet and it had seemed like an eternity before the man’s cries no longer echoed in his ears.

They came to a cliff, partially hidden by low fir trees. A box canyon lay below them. It was a precipitous drop down to a forest so thick that you could not see the ground.

“I don’t think he survived,” Moses said dryly. “Sorry about that.”

They searched around but they could find no tracks that would tell them where the men had come from. Finally, they returned to the spot where Stone had discovered the large tracks.

Moses tensed when he saw it. “You know how I feel about the supernatural.”

“Relax. If these Bigfoot exist, they’re living creatures like any other. Wild animals don’t scare you, do they?”

Moses folded his powerful arms and fixed Stone with a knowing smile. “You telling me if a bunch of gorillas came trooping out of the forest, you wouldn’t be scared?”

“I have encountered gorillas in the wild and yes, I had a healthy respect for them. But they behaved like any other intelligent, social creature. Leave them alone and they’ll leave you alone. And these things are supposed to have intelligence much closer to that of humans.”

“And would you say humans are more or less prone to senseless violence than gorillas?” Moses asked.

“Point taken,” Stone said. “But it’s a moot point. This track is a fake.”

“You sure?” Moses relaxed a little bit, but was still giving the print a wide berth.

“It’s too flat. If this were an actual pint, certain parts of the foot like the big toe and ball of the foot would sink deeper into the earth. You step and push off, making a deeper indentation with the front of the foot.” He flattened his palm, pressed it to the ground, and made a rolling motion to illustrate.

“I’m not a tenderfoot,” Moses said.

“You’re acting like one. Here, take a look and see for yourself.”