Forsaken An American Sasquatch Tale - By Christine Conder Page 0,19
of lately. “Just go before I change my mind.”
Knowing better than to argue with her father, Sage huffed and turned around. Adrian stood in his skivvies, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and waited for her to leave the area. Apparently even he was growing up.
“Be careful. And come home if it starts lightening,” Liberty warned as Nathaniel pulled her away.
He put his arm around her and they walked down the corridor together, listening to Sage as she mocked Adrian for being polite and then muttered something Liberty felt certain was unpleasant. Sounds carried in the cavern, though she didn’t think her daughter cared.
She looked up at Nathaniel with a mixture of worry and hurt in her eyes and he pulled her tighter to him.
“I can’t get used to them going off alone,” she lowered her voice and looked back over her shoulder. “I mean, look at Adrian, he’s worse than me. He carries a salad bag for crying out loud. Hardly any protection for our daughter.”
“Shh.” Nathaniel looked down at her and chuckled. “I don’t think she needs any.”
He had a fair point. Sage took after Nathaniel, strength and fearlessness ran through her blood. Liberty was the opposite. She’d spot a bunny nibbling on clover, and by the time she’s pointed out how cute it looked twitching its nose, Sage would be holding up dinner by its ears, its neck snapped.
The only thing Liberty killed were insects. And then, only if they’d found a way into her bed chamber. She sighed. “You’re right, I guess.”
“Come on, little hen, let’s visit with our guests. Maybe share some of the wine you’ve been saving. Before you know it…” He stopped outside the sitting chamber where Katie and Gabriel waited and gave her a wet, sloppy kiss that made her giggle. “Your girl will be home.”
* * *
Two glasses of wine and an hour later, Liberty couldn’t understand Adrian’s babble.
“Liberty.” Adrian burst into the cavern, naked, out of breath, and dripping. “We were run…” He paused. “It was out past the creek--”
“Whoa, slow down.” Liberty stopped him, looking over his shoulder. Sage wasn’t behind him. Liberty’s scalp tingled, burned. She moved him aside and started down the corridor. “Sage?” Fear crawled up her back, tightened around her neck. Her voice croaked, “Sage!”
Adrian grabbed her arm and looked at her, eyes wild. “I’m trying to tell you. Sage fell down the embankment.”
“What?” Liberty yelled, running toward the vestibule. Looking back over her shoulder, she screamed for Adrian to get Nathaniel, but Nathaniel had already appeared.
“Adrian? Liberty?”
She noted the alarm in his voice and heard Adrian begin to tell him what happened, but kept moving.
Reaching the entry, she saw a fresh puddle of water at the base of the ladder, and looked up to see the hatch wide open. She stripped as she climbed, letting her clothes fall into the wetness.
She was still four rungs from the top when she flung herself to the surface. No time to wait for her senses to give the all clear. She snarled as she rose to her feet and took off toward the creek.
She stopped after a minute, leaned against a tree for support and contemplated the idea of heading in the opposite direction, toward the farmhouse. She could ask Mitch for help.
Then she remembered. He was busy making arrangements for Ellie’s funeral.
Liberty wavered with indecision, wondered how this could have happened. Ellie dead one day, and Sage injured the next. It had to be a serious injury. Adrian wouldn’t have come home without her otherwise. Liberty shook her head and pushed away from the tree. She needed to get to her daughter.
Taking a shortcut, Liberty headed north, the straightest way to the creek. It wasn’t the easiest, brush and new pine growth hindered her progress, but she ducked and dodged her way through the foliage, snapping more than a few saplings on her way. She’d not even made it a quarter of the distance when Nathaniel caught up, and then quickly passed her by.
The creek snaked its way east-west, close to the rear boundary of their woods and during this time of the year, early fall, it could be hurdled in a single bound. The ravine sat a couple hundred yards north of there, and as she leapt across, Liberty felt her fear morph into anger.
Why hadn’t Adrian and Sage listened? She’d specifically told them to stay within the creek’s boundary. They knew better. When they got Sage back home and patched up,