When Nature Calls Page 3

  Buck clears his throat, and his cheeks flush. “All right. I’ll go grab your gear. After we get you loaded up, I’ll tell you where the best spots are.”

  Half an hour later, he slams the back of my van on a trio of sleeping bags, a six-person tent, and some other camping paraphernalia that I’ve never heard of before. I won’t be able to see out my rearview mirror, but it’s still better than sleeping in the van.

  “I’ll be right back,” Buck says before disappearing under the half-open garage door, dipping his head with practiced ease.

  “It’s a good thing we don’t do this more often,” Russ says, “or I don’t know if we’d have room for Jess.”

  My sister rolls her eyes. “If you didn’t insist on buying out the Mountain Dew in every gas station we stop at, there might be more room.”

  Before Russ gives her a comeback, Buck returns with a piece of paper in his hand. “I drew you directions,” he says, spreading out the piece of paper, which turns out to be the back of a purchase order for yet more fishing poles—surprise, surprise. Bear growls, so I unceremoniously dump him in my sister’s arms.

  Buck points at a series of labeled lines and streets. “This is where we are, and this is a great place to camp. It’s on my family’s property, but my dad won’t care. There’s a good spot me and my brothers use for hunting, and a little stream out that runs through it sometimes when there’s a lot of rain. We got a lot of property west of town, and you won’t have to worry about anybody finding you.” Oh wow, that’s a comforting thought. My eyes flash to his in alarm.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” he says, giving me a nervous, gap-toothed grin. Buck taps an X on the paper. “This is the spot right here. I think you’ll like it.”

  I fold the paper and hand it to Russ. “Thanks, Buck. This is really kind of you. I appreciate it.” And if his property is as secluded as it sounds, we have a better chance of finding the creature there, I hope.

  His chest puffs out a bit, and he smiles. “It’s no problem, Meredith. I think you’ll like it there.”

  “I know we will. It’ll be perfect.”

  Chapter 5

  Russ whistles as he eyes the small cleared area surrounded by thick trees. “I thought your new boyfriend said there was going to be a campground.”

  I elbow him in the side. “God, I hate you. This is probably as good as it gets out there, so shut up. If it weren’t for me, we’d be listening to Jess bitch in the van all night.”

  He arches his eyebrows. “So instead we listen to her bitch while we’re all stuck in a tent together? Yeah, what an improvement.”

  Okay, he has a point, but I’ll never tell him that.

  Jess walks Bear around the small clearing, which really consists of only a cleared space beneath some trees and a firepit. A rickety barbed wire fence lines the side closest to the road, with nothing on the other to separate one part of the wilderness from the other. Buck’s right. If something happened out here, no one would find us. I briefly debate going against our rules and posting our location online but decide against it. We’ll never find Bigfoot if fans start descending on Atopka to “help.”

  I drop my rolled-up sleeping bag to the ground, which apparently startles some huge black bug with a million legs that scampers over Jess’s foot. She screams, and the sound echoes around us.

  “Oh my God! Oh my God!” She hops from foot to foot and scans the ground, her eyes wild. “I quit. I can’t do this. At least Georgia didn’t have mutant monster bugs!”

  “Jesus,” Russ mutters. “Hold on.” He digs around in his duffel bag and pulls out a can of bug spray. “Here,” he says. “This should do the trick. Make sure you don’t spray it inside the tent, though. If you die, Meredith will make me be on camera more.”

  “Not true.” I give him a sweet smile. “I’ll just bring in Violet. She loves the camera, and she’s much more photogenic.”

  “On second thought,” Russ says, waving at the can, “have at it.”

  Jess rolls her eyes and walks away before dousing herself in enough bug spray to fumigate a house.

  “I think we should have gotten another tent,” Russ says, pinching his nose closed.

  “Yup. Hindsight is twenty-twenty.”

  After we set up our tent, Russ unpacks the equipment. We spend the next hour checking and double-checking batteries and organizing what we’re not going to use so we can leave it in the van. After that, I double tap the locks to make sure it’s secure. I don’t want a repeat of the last case where most of our supplies were destroyed. We don’t have a generous benefactor this time like we did with Graham. Jess gets on her phone and spreads the map out on the back seat of the van while Russ does some more research on the creature in question and I download some Bigfoot sounds on my phone to see if that helps call it closer. With all the empty land around here, it could take us years to stumble upon one without something to lure them.

  “Did you ever call Aunt Mary back?” I ask Jess, my voice measured. I know she’d tried to get a hold of me when we were leaving Georgia. I avoid talking to her whenever possible, which is surprisingly easy, except for the end of every month.

  Her shoulders stiffen, and she pauses. “Yeah, a couple of days ago. She wanted to know how things were going.”

  “Was she worried about you?” Stranger things have happened. Overworked and with three other mouths to feed, our Aunt Mary is not the epitome of the gentle, nurturing sort, even to her own kids.

  Jess forces her shoulders to loosen and shrugs. “I don’t know. It was strange, like she was trying to pretend she cares. I had to make up some excuse to get off of the phone. It was really awkward.”

  I almost tell her that I feel the same way every time I talk to our aunt, but then I’d be admitting that I talk to her way more often than I’d like because I really don’t have any reason to talk to her at all. That would open the door to telling Jess, and there are some things I don’t want her to know about. Not now, and maybe not ever.

  By the time the sun settles on the horizon, we have our sleeping bags out and our supplies organized. Russ has consulted Google for directions, cleaned out the fire pit, and created a little teepee of dried twigs and sticks.

  “I vote we head into town for marshmallows and hot dogs before filming,” he says with a grin. Huh. He’s actually enjoying himself. At least that makes one of us.

  “Sounds like a plan.” I whistle for Bear, who’s sniffing the brush about twenty feet away. He scampers over to my side, and I scoop him up. “Are you coming too?” I glance at my sister.

  She nods. “Oh yeah. You’re not leaving me out here alone.” She glances at the map spread out before her, now dotted with black Xs where the missing people were supposedly last seen. “I’m not going to end up on this map.”

  “Don’t worry.” I grab one of the voice recorders and stuffing it in my pocket. “I’d get a different color for your X, maybe hot pink, your favorite.”

  THE BELL ABOVE THE door jingles when we enter the 7-Eleven for the second time that day. Frigid air buffets us, and Russ closes his eyes as he savors the artificial chill. Even though he complains about the Michigan winters as much as the rest of us, I think he prefers it to the oppressive heat we experience on some of our cases. Jess waves from outside as she follows Bear to a clump of bushes to do his doggy duty.

  Our good friend Sheryl glares at us. “You kids need something else?” She glances at the setting sun. “Y’all don’t want to get stuck here after dark. There ain’t nowhere to stay in town.”

  I force a smile to my face. “We’re good. Thanks. We just need some food.”

  As Russ gathers enough hot dogs and other junk food to make his camping fantasies come true, I meander around the front of the store. Despite her outward antagonism, I still want to talk to Sheryl if I can. Digging my hand into my pocket, I click the recorder on. The voices would be muffled, but I’ll still be able to make them out.

  “So, have you lived in Atopka long?”

/>   Sheryl grunts in response and narrows her eyes at me. Somehow, I’m going to have to break through her dislike for outsiders and get answers. At least she can’t just leave, since she’s the only one working here.

  “What’s it like living here?” I lean against the counter casually, with the side containing the voice recorder closer to her.

  “Are you gonna buy anything?” she snaps.

  I wave toward Russ, who’s rummaging around in one of the coolers on the back wall. “Yeah, he knows what he wants. I’m just paying for it.”

  Russ walks up with an armful of buns and hot dogs, a cooler, and a couple two-liters of soda. “Mind if I leave this here while I finish shopping?” When Sheryl shakes her head, he dumps the food and drinks on the front counter and flashes her a smile. “Thanks. I’ll be back with more.”

  Her eyes follow him, and I imagine her thinking about all of the money we’ll be spending on overpriced processed meat and stale buns. Or maybe that’s all me. Hey, perhaps that’s the in I need. Money talks.

  “Grab enough for a few days,” I call out, and Sheryl’s eyes widen as Russ appears with another handful of condiments and boxes of plastic cutlery.

  “And now for the snacks,” he says, and disappears down the chip aisle. I make a mental note to grab some ice on our way out so whatever we don’t eat stays cold.

  “So,” I say with a smile. “How long have you lived here?”

  Sheryl eyes the growing pile of goods and then gives me a scowl. “All my life. My family’s been here for a hundred years or more. I don’t really know how long.”

  “What do you know about the strange, hairy creature has been seen in this area?”

  She gives me a throaty laugh. “You kids just don’t give up, do you?”

  I nod. “My team and I run an online paranormal investigations TV show. We usually handle cases that involve ghosts, but the recent disappearances and strange sightings brought us here.”

  Sheryl leans her elbows on the counter and affixes me with a serious look. “Oh, I know all about those sightings. Legend goes back hundreds of years, from when the Indians used to live here. Are you looking to find Bigfoot?”

  “Yes. That’s exactly why we came.”

  She stares at me for a few seconds, as if thinking about her words. “I also heard you was camping out at the Henrys’ place. That true?”

  I nod again. There’s no reason to deny it if she already knows. News travels quickly in small towns. “Yeah, he offered for us to stay there, and it looks like the perfect habitat.”

  “Well,” she says, “you’re gonna smell Bigfoot hell of a lot sooner than you’re going to see him.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Her lips twist in a gleeful grin. “Yup. So, if you’re out there in the middle of the night, and you smell something that resembles a skunk that went skinny dipping in a porta potty, then you’re pretty close. Don’t run, though. They don’t like that.” She glances off into the distance. “Come to think of it, they don’t like it if you make loud noises and wave your arms, either. Never tried rolling up in a ball and playing dead, though. Guess you could try that. Wouldn’t be my choice. But hell, you wouldn’t catch me dead trying to find the damn things, anyway.” She cackles as Russ deposits another load of chips, beef jerky, and cookies.

  “I think we’re good,” he says, patting a leaning pillar of Pringles.

  Damn his timing. I bet I could have gotten more out of her if I’d had a few more minutes.

  “Sure you don’t want more?” Sheryl says, all sweetness since we’ve bought out what seems like half of the store.

  “We’ll be back, I’m sure.” I pull out my wallet and pay. Damn. Over a hundred bucks in junk food. Russ owes me big time. Though if I’m being completely honest, his shopping spree afforded me to ask extra questions. As Russ and I load up our bags and leave the store, I mull over the fact that I might have learned something pretty important... Or Sheryl could have been just messing with me because I’m not from around here. I wish I knew which.

  Chapter 6

  Night settles quickly after we get back to camp. The wind whistles through the trees, and birds and insects make a raucous cacophony. At least we know there aren’t any predators around, because prey animals are silent if that’s the case. I wonder what Bigfoot creatures eat. I’ll have to ask Russ—he does most of the research. Jess might know too, though I doubt she’s put in the hours of sifting through questionable websites to get to the good stuff that Russ finds.

  In the fire pit, Russ ignites the wood, coaxing a small blaze out of the twigs. As the flames crackle and grow, he eagerly opens the first package of hot dogs and pierces one on a stick lying on the ground next to the pit. Then he hands me a stick and a hot dog, and I do the same.

  Sitting cross-legged up on a sleeping bag, Jess watches him and wrinkles her nose. “How is that even sanitary? Those sticks have, like, bug poop on them.”

  Russ waves the stick at her. “It’s fine. The fire gets rid of all that. But you can eat yours cold if you want.” He lobs one of the uncooked hot dogs at her, and she shrieks and bats it away.

  “Not a chance.”

  Never one to overlook food, Bear dives in and inhales the hot dog, dirt, bug poop, and all.

  “Gross,” Jess mutters. “He’s not sleeping next to me.”

  “I’ll take him,” Russ says. “He has better breath than either of you in the morning.”

  Jess and I both toss chunks of our hot dog buns at him.

  After we’ve finished eating, we pull out the map and orient ourselves using the compass function on my phone. “I don’t want to go too far and get lost, even though we have GPS. If we lose reception, we’re screwed.”

  Jess pulls a sweatshirt out of her bag and tugs it on as a sharp wind slices through the scrub brush. “Me neither,” she says.

  Three games of rock, paper, scissors later, Russ dons the GoPro harness and clips on the camera. I grab the selfie stick. Since we’re all together, we don’t need to use our other harness. They’ll both pretty much show the same thing. The selfie stick is great for filming in hard-to-reach places. It also makes a great weapon.

  I turn on the Wi-Fi hot spot on my phone and make sure it’s working while Jess fixes her hair and makeup. My fingers fly over the keyboard, and I open a new thread on the forums for the investigation, create a new folder for the evidence, and connect the camera to live stream the preliminary investigation.

  In the light of the crackling campfire, Jess rubs her arms. “Hey everyone, like I said online, this investigation will be a lot different than the ones we normally do. There aren’t any ghosts out there, at least that I’m aware of.” She casts a furtive glance in the darkness on either side of her. “No, this time, we’re hunting something bigger. Something hairier. Something that smells a lot worse than Russ after a couple of days on the road.”

  “Hey,” Russ exclaims, looking up from his camera.

  Jess ducks her head. “Sorry, but it’s true. We’re out here in the middle of nowhere, Oklahoma, hunting a hairy, bipedal creature that may be responsible for several missing people over the last couple of years. Stay tuned while we explore the area around these disappearances, interview the people intimately acquainted with this town and its history, and hopefully figure out what exactly is hiding among these trees.”

  Russ turns off the film, and I pin the intro to the main page for this investigation then sit back with a satisfied smile. “Great job,” I say.

  Jess shrugs, but I can tell she’s proud by the way she smiles and flushes a bit. “I know. I’m good.”

  After dousing the fire, we set out, flashlights in hand. Jess carries a voice recorder too, while I open up the recording of the best Bigfoot noises that I’d saved on my phone. The more sources for any potential noises we hear, the better. The first “whoop whoop” silences the birds and the animals around us. Next, a long, drawn-out howl pierces the night.

  “You know,” Jess says, “I bet Russ could do
one of those, easy. Remember that one time you scared him when we were at that house in Ohio?”

  I chuckle. “Now that you mention it, it does sound a lot like him.” Russ ignores us. I turn the volume up on my phone, and the audio plays a series of hollow knocking sounds, followed by some grunts and a couple of warbling whoops.

  I pause it, and we let the silence sink into the space left by the sound. Eventually the night creatures’ noises return, but nothing more.

  “I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed,” Jess says wryly.

  I chuckle. “I know what you mean.”

  We replay the audio three more times as we circle the camp with similar, depressing results, before Jess throws her hands up in the air. “I think this is a bust. Let’s head back.”

  I glance down at Bear, who’s sniffing the ground, his tail at half-mast, completely relaxed. I know how he acts if he senses a ghost, and I have to think he would behave the same way if we came upon a huge hairy creature. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. What do you say, Russ?”

  He stifles a yawn, which I guess is answer enough. “Sounds good to me. We can’t expect to find something on the first night. These things don’t just come when you want them.”

  He’s right, but I was hoping we would get a break. Exhausted from the day’s events and unsuccessful hunt, we trudge back to camp. Once there, Russ stokes the dying embers to make sure they won’t reignite, and I log on to upload the audio from Jess’s recorder and make sure the video we took saved correctly.

  All of a sudden, the thunderous rumbling of a truck’s exhaust bursts through the cacophony from the birds and insects. I jump, and my laptop clatters to the ground. A rusty green truck rumbles over the rocks and through the brush until it reaches our campsite. Bear darts past me, but Jess scoops him up before he can get squished.

  “Who the hell is that?” Russ flicks on his flashlight. Seconds later, three guys and a case of beer spill out of the truck’s cab. Buck—I’d recognize that mullet anywhere—is accompanied by two slightly younger carbon copies.