Forsaken An American Sasquatch Tale - By Christine Conder Page 0,1

happy ending.

* * *

After everyone had fallen asleep, they crept down to the end of the cold corridor where a ladder waited to take them to the surface.

Sarah put a finger to her lips and carefully avoided the creaky rungs as she climbed. Liberty shut her eyes, waiting to hear the hatch close behind her mother when Sarah reached the surface.

Going from human below, to animal above, hadn’t grown on her yet. Some of the other kids snickered, called her a jennie. But she was only sensitive, not a half-grown turkey, so the taunts rolled off her.

Though it wasn’t, when she watched people get all twisted and rippled, it looked painful. While the change was nonnegotiable, it didn’t mean she was required to watch it.

She listened for her mother to lift the hatch again, the signal it was clear, then she opened her eyes and ascended one rung, waited, then another rung, and another.

On egress, an intense seizure overtook her body, but the wave only lasted a few seconds. She emerged as Sasquatch and before she had any time to dwell on the experience, it was over.

Guided by a fat moon that hung low in the sky, they ran away from the cavern. Liberty wanted to thank Sarah, tell her how free she felt, but the Sasquatch couldn’t speak. Not in words anyway. The tongue and throat didn’t coordinate aboveground and the best she got were high-pitched grunts and grumbles. But she didn’t need to say the words out loud; Sarah would understand how she felt. Liberty’s energy danced in the air around her, a bright orange aura with flecks of yellow, perfectly mirroring her mother’s.

They reached the stream, kneeling on the dewy grass near the edge. Surrounded by the sweet aroma of raspberries, they cupped their hands into makeshift bowls, gathering the tiny fruit a dozen at a time, before eating them all in one bite. Crickets chirped, fireflies danced above the surface of the water, and a pair of owls called out to one another high in the trees. Liberty tipped her head back and took it all in. She’d missed the fresh air.

Turning to Sarah, Liberty stared into a pair of brilliant green eyes. The one part of her which stayed the same, whether she was above or below ground, reflected tiny silver orbs in the center. Liberty nudged her, merged their auras for a moment, and smiled, happier than she’d been in a long time.

As they reached out for more handfuls, Sarah froze. Liberty saw her mother’s aura beat crimson and she whipped her head around to look in the shadows behind them. Sucking in a breath, Liberty tuned in to the surroundings, but before she could pick up anything, her mother grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.

In a flash, they were running. Sarah dragged Liberty along and Liberty followed in a blind panic. She kept up the best she could, tried not to stumble. What had she missed? The red in Sarah’s aura showed she was bustling—sending wavelengths to confuse predators—giving them a chance to escape. Ahead, to the right of them, a beam of light splashed against a tree trunk. Another sliced through the darkness and flashed to the left. Liberty suddenly understood.

Voices. People.

Sarah hadn’t signaled her beforehand, but Liberty knew they were headed to the dugout. Located in the opposite direction, Proem needed to stay protected at any cost. On instinct Sarah was drawing the humans away from it. Liberty imagined when her father discovered, and had gotten over his anger of, their misadventure, he’d be proud. They zigzagged for nearly half a mile, managing to confuse and, for a time, elude the humans.

Her mother slowed, gazing upward. This part of the woods consisted mainly of fir trees, but hardwoods dotted the landscape here and there. Sarah spotted their marker—the thing called a pitch—in a tall hemlock. The pitch didn’t stand out, but looking closely near the very top of the tree, three of its limbs were stripped bare.

They made their way off the path and toward a fallen oak lying adjacent to the hemlock. Dirt and moss clung to the unearthed, massive root ball of the dead tree. Sarah pulled her around the roots, and then shoved her under the trunk into the hole.

Going from Sasquatch to human felt different than from human to Sasquatch. It felt like losing your footing the last several steps down a steep hillside and trying to stay upright. She transformed as she fell—a