Chapter 9
CHAPTER NINE
Orik drove, while Dante and I prepared. I called Duran back on my own phone, and he was still hiding.
Apparently, Bigfoot—from the way he described the creature, it couldn’t be anything else.
At least, I hoped it wasn’t some new threat.
I hung up, not wanting any sounds we made to alert whatever it was that was chasing Duran.
“Have you ever fought Bigfoot before?” Orik asked.
“No,” I said. “I’ve managed to avoid it until now, thank gods.”
“I have,” Dante said. “Well, I’ve never fought him, but I was chased by him.”
“Really?” I asked. I hadn’t heard about this.
“Yeah, it was quite awhile before we met. I was out camping one night, over in the Olympic National Park. I was at the Graves Creek Campground, near the Quinault River. I wanted to get away for awhile, and decided to go by myself.”
Orik laughed. “I know you’re fit and you love the outdoors, but it’s hard to imagine you tramping around the woods in a flannel shirt, with an axe over your shoulder.”
“Laugh now, but I’m an excellent rock climber,” Dante said.
“He is,” I added. “I’ve seen him. So, what happened?”
“I had my tent up, and my fire going. I was heating up some stew over the camp stove—it was actually a grating over the fire, where I could rest a skillet. I was hungry, I remember that, and while I waited for the stew to heat, I ate French bread. Finally, my stew was hot, and I sat down at the picnic table to eat. It was almost dark, and I was debating on shifting and taking a run in my wolf form. It’s beautiful and wild out there, much safer for shifters who want to have a good run in their natural forms.”
“That sounds beautiful,” I said, thinking it might be nice to take a trip there before it was too cold. I could use a vacation and I was pretty sure everybody in the group could.
“It is. Even now, fifty years later, it’s absolutely gorgeous over there.
Anyway, I finished dinner and washed my pan, and then made sure my food was locked up in the trunk of the car, in a scent-proof bear container.
Always park your car a ways from your tent.
So, I go to bed, and I settled in. I slept with a hatchet and a knife near my sleeping bag.
In the middle of the night, I heard something outside.
It wasn’t a bear—I know what bears sound like.
And there was a godawful smell in the air.
You know one of Bigfoot’s nicknames is Skunk Ape, right? ”
“What was the sound like?” Orik asked, turning onto Interlaken Avenue. We were nearing Duran’s whereabouts.
“They sound…it’s like a growl deeper than any you’ve ever heard, and when they shriek—usually when they’re angry—it’s terrifying.
I could hear it ripping branches off trees.
I still didn’t know what it was. I thought perhaps it was some freak wacked out on meth or something, so I grabbed both my hatchet and my knife, and slipped out of the tent. ”
“I’d be racing to my car,” I said.
“I was planning on it. But when I got out of my tent, I froze.”
“What happened?” Orik turned, following the GPS instructions.
“The moon was up,” Dante said, “and it was full. I could see some things in the dark, and over near the edge of the campground, loomed a huge figure. Whatever it was, it had to be over eight feet tall. Bipedal, it was swinging branches around, slamming them against the tree trunks. I knew then that I had to get out of there. Shifters are strong, but that thing? It could have torn me in half. I snuck over to my car and it saw me partway there. I made a run for it and it chased me. Damned thing was fast—so fast. I managed to get to my car and get in before it reached me. I drove that narrow campground road like a blur. It’s amazing I didn’t kill myself, but I got away.
It did manage one big swing onto the trunk of my car, and left quite a dent, but at least I was in one piece.
I left my tent and everything else there.
I went back there with a group of friends a day later to retrieve everything, but Bigfoot, I assume, had torn everything to shreds. ”
By the time Dante finished, Orik slowed and pulled off to the side of the road.
“Okay, we’re nearby. I don’t want to spook it. We need to make certain this thing isn’t targeting other park visitors, especially any children.”
We slipped out of the van, weapons ready.
I texted Duran, not wanting the phone to alert whatever was after him.
He texted back and, according to his position, he was lodged beneath a couple large bushes, near a stand of fir trees circling a bench.
I could see the stand of trees from the edge of the road, and as I watched, my blood ran cold.
A shadow of angry energy filled the air.
I glanced at Dante, and could tell he was having trouble keeping himself from shifting.
“You feel that?” I whispered, keeping my voice as low as I could.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “And to be honest, I do not want to meet what it is.”
“We can’t just leave it here, though. There are kids in this park. We have to deal with it.” I wasn’t about to leave a monster in a park where there were a ton of kids. That didn’t even count the adults who were around.
Dante stared at me. “You’re serious.”
“She’s right,” Orik said. “We can’t leave this thing here. We can get Duran out safely, but that won’t insure that Bigfoot—I’m pretty sure that’s what it is—won’t go after anybody else.”
The breeze shifted and a sudden waft of foul stench filled the air.
Skunk Ape was right. This creature smelled to high heaven.
Worse than skunks, actually. An acrid, sulfuric scent enshrouded us and I tried my hardest not to swear.
We were still hidden but the creature had to be close in order for us to smell it like that.
“Cripes,” I whispered. “Where is it?” I was trying to scan the area from where we were standing.
Just as I shifted position, the creature appeared, not ten feet from us, from behind a massive fir.
I shrieked as he—it was obviously a male, and naked as a jaybird—backhanded me off my feet.
I flew back at least five feet, landing on my ass.
Ignoring the sudden ache in my tailbone, I crab-walked back, scrambling to my feet as Orik brought out his sword and charged at the creature.
He swung, managing a sideswipe, but Bigfoot either didn’t notice the bleeding, or didn’t care, because he leaned forward, letting out a growl that was deathly serious—his long fangs and wide mouth reminding me of an angry baboon. And angry baboons were terrifying.
I kept my distance, eyeing him.
Bigfoot was big, all right, well over eight feet tall, covered with dark brown shaggy fir that blended into the cover of foliage and tree trunks. He glared at us, his eyes glowing a jaundiced yellow, and he dwarfed Orik.
“Those fangs could rip you apart,” I said, realizing that the short sword I was carrying wouldn’t do a damned thing.
Dante backed up, the air around him rippling as he shifted into a massive white wolf.
Bigfoot turned, swinging an incredibly large bough at him.
Dante darted to the side, but he wasn’t quick enough and the bough caught his flank, sending him skidding to the side.
Dante whimpered as blood began to drip from a gash and he limped away.
Orik charged again, but I knew that wouldn’t be enough. We were all going to get hurt if I didn’t step in and do what I had to do. Nobody hurt my friends and got away with it. And Dante was family—my brother. I inhaled deeply, calling on my powers.
With a powerful shift, I shed my leash, and welcomed my shadow self.
“Back, spawn!” My voice reverberated as I leapt forward, my nails growing into long talons, my teeth lengthening.
I was stronger, faster, and I reached out to gather the breeze.
Arosiens could work with the air element.
Now, I stirred the breeze into a vortex, strengthening it as I searched for the core.
In my work with Devon, I had learned how every storm had a core—a center that I could take control of.
Hurricanes and massive tornadoes were exceptions…
still…because they developed their own will.
When I found out that storms could become sentient, it scared the hell out of me, but it also made sense.
But now, I saw the core—a shining diamond-like light. I grabbed hold of it, spinning it into a powerful vortex. As the gusts grew, Orik and Dante backed away.
“You hurt one of my clan, and you have to be punished,” I murmured, bringing the vortex down to ground it to the earth right in Bigfoot’s path.
It caught up branches as I drove it forward, one giant weapon of wind and branch and rocks and whatever else it could suck up into its center.
The whirlwind of dust and air slammed into the creature, the boughs slashing his flesh. I smiled, then I narrowed my eyes and drove the storm harder.
Bigfoot let out a howl as he tried to get out of the way, but I wasn’t about to let him go.
“No, you don’t,” I said. “You’re not getting away.”
There was a sentience behind Bigfoot that was far more than animalistic.
He wasn’t evil, per se, but he was chaos incarnate, and he didn’t have a conscience.
If he was hungry, he killed to eat. If he wanted something, he took it.
If he was sad, he would weep. He was unconcerned by human societal rules and focused only on his needs. The perfect narcissist.
I gathered the winds even tighter and the vortex became a whirling drill.
“Again…” I whispered, pointing at the creature.
The vortex was howling now, drowning out Bigfoot’s shrieks.
I directed the twister to knock him off his feet, and when he fell, I brought the point of the vortex down on his center—right on his chest. It drilled a hole right through him, splitting him in two.
The next moment, I let go of the storm and it dissipated as though it had never been.
I stared at the mess and then, feeling incredibly strong and powerful, shrugged and turned around. “And that, takes care of that.”
Orik cautiously touched my shoulder. “Kyann? It’s time to come back.”
I glanced up at him, holding his gaze. “I never left,” I said, but the next moment, the shift vanished and I felt like my normal self.
Orik shivered, but continued to hold my arm.
Bigfoot was slowly beginning to fade, probably back to his own dimension. When some of these creatures who visited our world died, or decided to leave, they had a natural ability to phase back to their own realm.
Before he could vanish, I reached down and pried open his mouth, taking hold of one of his fangs and yanking it out.
Fangs were easier to break than regular teeth—they were longer and had more leverage.
I pocketed it, then watched him fade away.
The only thing left to show he’d existed was the fang in my pocket, the destruction of the trees around us, and his image ingrained in our memories.
* * *
Duran came creeping out from the stand of nearby bushes. He was pale and shaken. “I was so afraid he was going to find me,” he said. “What happened to him? I saw you wail on his ass,” he added. “I didn’t know you were a witch,” he said, staring at me.
“I’m not,” I answered. “I’m part demon. Working with the wind and storms seems to be part of my demonic heritage. But I’ll tell you, I never thought that creating a whirlwind would be part of my repertoire.” I turned to Orik. “You okay?”
Orik nodded. “Did you know your eyes turn jet black when you’re working with your demonic powers? I mean, completely—whites, irises, all black.”
“Yeah, I actually do. I can feel the shift when it happens. It’s no longer about bringing out my inner demon anymore.
It’s about unleashing the powers that are now always part of me.
” I turned, looking for Dante. He came over, limping, still in wolf form.
The gash was nasty, and—worried—I knelt down to examine him.
“He needs help,” I said. “We need to get him to a healer. He’s staying in wolf form because he has more resilience in his animal form, and he heals faster. Help him into the van, please.” I turned to Duran. “Come with us, if you would.”
We returned to the van and Duran sat next to Dante, who had curled up and fallen asleep. I gently stroked his head and gave him a kiss as he shifted, moving his head to lay it in my lap.
“It’s okay, boy. We’re going to get you some help. Just rest until we get there.” I rested my hand on his head, smoothing his fur. It was hard to see friends hurt, and it felt even harder when they were in animal form.
There was an urgent care clinic for shifters nearby, so we pulled into the parking lot and Orik picked up Dante before Dante could climb out of the van, carrying him in. I followed, leaving Duran in the van, instructing him to stay put and keep the doors shut.
The receptionist looked up. “May I help you?”
“Dante’s hurt. He’s a wolf shifter, and he’s been injured.” I pointed to the gashes on his hindquarters.
“What hit him?” she asked, calling for another nurse. After that, she came around the desk to assess him. “He’s not going to die, but this needs attended to.”
“Bigfoot.” I waited.
She raised her eyebrows, but nodded. “We’ve actually had several patients come in, injured while they were out in their natural form. I’ve already alerted the cops and they’re hunting for him, but they didn’t want to trigger a citywide panic.”
“Well, you can let them know that he’s…” I paused, wondering what she would say if I told her he was dead. “He’s gone.”
“Right,” was all she said. “All right, let’s get him back into one of the exam rooms.”
We started to follow her into the back, but instead, she pointed to a gurney. “Lay him on that and we’ll take it from here.” And with that, we were banished into the waiting room.