Track of the Beast: A Brock Stone Adventure

“I know where she went.” They turned to see Harold Moss approaching. A pained expression painted his face, and he didn’t quite meet Stone’s eye. “I’m afraid something has happened to that girl and it’s all my fault.”

Alex hadn’t driven more than a quarter of a mile before Constance ordered him to stop. There was a note of command to her voice that caught Alex so completely by surprise that instinctively slammed on the brakes. The Roadster skidded to a halt on the mountain road, kicking up a cloud of dust and gravel.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

Constance ignored him. She reached underneath her seat and pulled out a rucksack.

“What’s in there?”

“Turn your head,” she snapped as she pulled a pair of dungarees from the bag. Her sharp tone and the hard look in her eyes, made her seem like a different person.

“You can’t wait until we get back to town before changing clothes?” He felt his cheeks warm at the sound of rustling clothing.

“No,” she said simply.

A few seconds later he heard the passenger door open. He turned to see Constance, now dressed in pants, shirt, and boots, slide out of the cab.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“There’s no time to explain.” Constance hurried around to the driver’s side and spoke to him through the window. “I’m trained to read people. Moss was lying. Every time the subject of the Bigfoot or Ape Canyon came up, his eyes flitted in the same direction. I’m going to catch up with Stone. He might need help.”

“You?” Alex scratched his head with the tip of his hook. “I should come with you.”

“That’s gallant of you, but you would slow me down. Go get Moses. I will leave a trail in the forest for you to follow. Look for broken branches pointing the way.”

Alex blinked, surprise rendering him mute. This was not the Constance he thought he knew.

“I owe you an explanation,” she said, “but there’s no time.” She climbed up onto the running board and planted a kiss on his lips. “I promise I’ll tell you everything. Just trust me.”

With that, she hopped nimbly to the ground, turned, and sprinted into the forest. In a matter of seconds, she was gone.

Interlude 6

May, 1927

Five Years Ago

Stone awoke to the aroma of freshly baked bread. He felt around and found a slice of warm bread with butter and a few tart berries, Himalayan blackberries perhaps.

There was also a cup of water and a cup of hot tea. He devoured it all, even the tea, which he ordinarily did not care for.

“Did you enjoy your meal?” Gideon’s voice asked from somewhere in the darkness.

“I would love a cup of coffee,” Stone said wryly.

“I just like the smell of coffee. I could smell it on your breath the first time we met.”

“It has been days since I had coffee. You must have a sensitive nose.”

“Or you have bad breath.”

Stone breathed into his cupped hands, sniffed, and shrugged. He stood and stretched. Every inch of his body hurt. He wondered what was in store for him today.

“What comes next?” Stone asked.

“Your rebirth continues,” Gideon said.

“You said childbirth is painful, so I guess that means another beating?”

“That depends on you.”

Stone was tired, hurting, and had little patience for the man’s cryptic answers.

“Can we get on with it then?”

“First lesson,” Gideon said. “Inside the womb, a child who is nearing birth cannot see the world outside, but that doesn’t mean the child is unaware.

“Makes sense,” Stone said.

“Tell me what you hear.”

“Your voice,” Stone replied. He waited. Silence. “Sorry. Was I supposed to listen for something else?”

Something struck him across the small o his back. A lance of pain burned his flesh.

“Ouch. I only wanted a clarification of the rules.”

This time the blow struck him across the knees. He let out a pained grunt.

“An infant is incapable of understanding rules. It learns by experience.” Still, Gideon’s voice seemed to come from everywhere at once.

“How do you do that with your voice?”

Something jabbed him hard in the gut. Stone grunted.

“Focus!” Gideon snapped.

“All right. I’m focusing. Let’s try it again.”

Gideon didn’t reply. The silence was as complete as the darkness.

Stone listened for more sounds. He had sharp ears, but he couldn’t hear anything except the thrum of his heartbeat. A whack across his backside, more annoying than painful, made him jump.

“I can hear my heartbeat.”

That must have been a satisfactory answer because Gideon didn’t hit him this time.

“What else?” Gideon said.

“There’s a rushing sound in my ears like the blowing wind.”

“And outside of yourself?”

Try as he would, Stone couldn’t hear anything. Another blow. He tried to shut out his other senses and focus on his hearing. He tuned out the scent of blood that filled his nostrils, the taste of sweat on his tongue.

“Wait a minute.” He heard a faint dripping sound. “There’s water dripping somewhere far away.”

“Find it.”