Forsaken An American Sasquatch Tale - By Christine Conder Page 0,30
fine. And before I forget,” she rummaged through her sequin-covered purse, pulled out the photo of Sage and laid it on the desk, “I asked some people at The River and the Post Office, but no one has seen her. Or anyone that looks like her.”
“No one?”
“Well, nobody I talked to,” Becky put a big smile on her face, “but it doesn’t mean she isn’t out there. Right?”
“I hope so,” Liberty corrected herself, “I think she is.”
“Good. Then we’ll keep with our plan. Remember everything?”
They went over the itinerary a few times the day before. “I’m pretty sure.”
“All right,” Becky pulled Liberty through the door behind her desk and into the stairwell, “wait here and I’ll start unloading the boxes.”
Becky had backed her truck up to kennel’s side door, and was going to pretend to unload supplies. All the boxes were empty. She figured it would give Liberty good cover and less walking to the truck.
After Becky carried the last parcel into the storage room of the kennel, she looked down the stairwell and motioned Liberty the all clear.
“Hey, hold on.” Becky held up a hand and spun in a circle, showing off her all black hoodie and pants ensemble. “Does this look okay?”
Liberty rolled her eyes, “You look fine.”
“You sure? The pants don’t make me look fat?”
“Seriously, you look good.”
The impatience on Liberty’s face and in her voice must have come through because Becky said, “Sorry. I’ve just never been on a stake-out before. All I know is you’re supposed to wear black. Oh, and you gotta bring binoculars. Which I did. They’re in the truck.” She beamed, obviously proud of herself for the preparations she’d made.
“Good, good.” Liberty shooed her. “Now go, would you?”
It wasn’t like Becky hadn’t see her in Sasquatch form before, but it was the first time close-up and Liberty felt utterly naked and incredibly ugly. The whole reason she wanted Becky to keep her back turned.
“Okay, all clear,” Becky said in a muffled voice from above.
Liberty transformed on the fourth step from the top and hurried toward the back of the vehicle. She bent over and scooted inside. The truck bed bounced, made a squeak, and Becky giggled. Liberty shifted her very large behind back as far as she could, and then tapped the side of the bed.
Becky came out, closed the kennel door behind her. Lifting up the tailgate, she looked in and winked like there wasn’t a monster in her bed. Liberty gave her the dirtiest look she could muster—a cross between a pucker and a snarl—as Becky slammed it shut.
Liberty had tried to prepare herself for her first ride, remembered what she’d been told to expect. She waited. The engine turned over. That wasn’t so bad. The exhaust drifted in the cap a bit. Unpleasant, but not awful. Then the truck started to move. Liberty tensed, her heart rate spiked. She tapped urgently on the window.
Becky stopped, turned around, and looked at Liberty through the glass, eyebrows raised. “Is there a problem?” Liberty nodded weakly.
Becky sighed, unlocked the window, and slid it open. “We’ve gone like two feet.”
Liberty nodded again.
“There’s no reason to be afraid. We’ve been over this, right? Here.” She reached down and came up with the phone in her hand. “Remember how to use it?”
Liberty took the phone, resisted the urge to answer for fear of scaring the daylights out of Becky, and nodded.
“This, too,” Becky said, handing Liberty the stylus.
Liberty took it, but it felt as tiny as a pine needle, nothing like a pen. With difficulty, Liberty typed on the phone before handing it to Becky.
Becky took it and after she read it, cocked an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”
Liberty didn’t answer.
Becky gave her a sideways glance. “No. You don’t look fat. Now try to relax,” she said, then put the truck back in gear and pulled away again, this time more slowly.
Liberty released a shaky breath, watched out through the front window. Doing so didn’t make her half as dizzy.
They pulled out of Mitch’s driveway and hung a right on the blacktop. She focused on the road and ignored the tiny voice in her head that told her she was heading to a place of no return. If anyone at Proem discovered her little adventure, and if it went wrong, she may as well keep on going.
She’d given the directions to Becky the day before and she didn’t even have to write them down. Becky said it was quicker her way, and she was right. A