Forsaken An American Sasquatch Tale - By Christine Conder Page 0,29
other caves and, over the years, established settlements in several caverns.
They mourned the loss of their children, eaten up with guilt and shame. Of both, what they did, and failed to do. Over time, they had more children, likewise cursed, likewise banished to earthen hells.
* * *
Liberty shut the book, placed it back into the bin, pulled up the collar of her sweatshirt to absorb her tears and got up from the bean bag. She blew out the candle and exited just in time to hear Nathaniel arrive home.
The echo from the hatch sounded and she retreated to the guest chamber across the corridor, no desire to bump into him.
She’d barely made it to the cot when he poked his head inside. “You got a minute?”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
He stepped inside, but stayed near the doorway, standing solely in a pair of flannel boxers and suede slippers. “I stopped at the farmhouse to fill Mitch in. Let him know Katie and them left right away.”
Chilled, Liberty pulled the quilt up around her shoulders. Part of the Sasquatch curse was general good health. She was never cold, but it seemed like ever since his sister showed up, her health had deteriorated. Stress caused all kinds of quirks for the Sasquatch.
“He doing okay?” she asked. “Did he have anything new to report?”
Nathaniel motioned to the lawn chair next to the door. “Do you mind?”
“Go ahead.” She tossed him a throw blanket from her cot.
He laid it over the plastic and sat. “Thanks. He’s the same. He sent an email to the guy who sent the picture disputing the validity of it. He’s hoping to buy some time before he has to give in and post it.”
Mitch authored a popular website, reportedly to keep track of Sasquatch sightings. More beneficially, it kept her and Nathaniel aware of search party schedules.
She changed the subject, afraid she might let something slip about Adrian, “Did he show you the slideshow?”
“No.” Nathaniel looked down at his feet, crossed his ankles, then uncrossed them. “I just stopped in to update him like he asked, and he seemed pretty tired so I didn’t stay long.”
“Yeah, maybe some other time.” It would have to be some other time really soon, though.
She bristled. Small talk was a complete waste of time, dancing around the important stuff. She faked a yawn and reclined.
“Okay, well I’m going to get a bite to eat.” He got the hint. Standing up, he brought the blanket over and laid it across her legs. “Stay warm.”
Stay sane would be better advice. Liberty dimmed the lantern and shut her eyes, willed a deep sleep to knock her out.
* * *
Liberty slept off and on, visions of ancestors and butchers and long walks with guarded escorts permeated her dreams. She awoke to the smell of a cook fire, thankful it was finally time to go. Nathaniel lay back on the futon he’d built in the sitting chamber, reading an almanac or some other earthy magazine. He looked up when she entered.
“I’m leaving,” she said.
He nodded.
“Becky wants to rearrange the kennel setup for supplies she’s bringing in. I promised I’d go in and help.” Liberty felt the need to explain, and it wasn’t a complete lie. They had put it on the to-do list. It just wasn’t on tonight’s list.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Okay then, I’ll pass on breakfast. Maybe Becky and I can get a head start.” Yes. That sounded believable.
He looked back down at his magazine. “See ya.”
Great. As she headed toward the vestibule, she realized she’d broken out in a sweat. She wiped her upper lip where the droplets had formed. How he hadn’t seen through the story, was beyond her. All she knew for sure was she better have good news to report back after she met with Adrian. At least then the lies wouldn’t have been in vain.
Chapter Eight
When Liberty arrived at the kennel, Becky filled her in.
“Lindy’s at the house with Mitch. I told her I had a few errands and she said she’d be happy to sit with him until I get back. She didn’t even ask why,” Becky winked, “thank goodness for that.” She motioned Liberty toward her desk.
Liberty walked toward her, took a deep breath and exhaled, “I feel really nervous,” she held a hand against her chest, “and my heart’s beating like a hummingbird’s wings.”
“Hey, you’re allowed to be nervous. It’s your first ride, right?”
Liberty nodded. “I don’t know any of us that have done it before.”
Becky snapped her fingers, “Easy peasy. You’ll be