Forsaken An American Sasquatch Tale - By Christine Conder Page 0,31

little trip that took her nearly four hours to navigate, took Becky twenty minutes.

They pulled off the edge of the road. Becky shut off the engine and turned around in her seat. “Okay, we’re here. I’ll wait for a minute, then put on my flashers. Those are the blinker lights that indicate to other vehicles I’m here so they don’t hit me.” She pointed over her shoulder, out her window. “If I followed your directions right, that’s where you need to go. Are we good?”

Liberty nodded, handed her the phone. As she did, their hands touched and Becky didn’t flinch. When Liberty pulled her hand away, Becky said, “Wait a minute. Give me your hand.”

Perplexed, Liberty put it back through, and Becky latched on. Her aura, royal blue tonight, mingled with Becky’s pearly white one. Becky pet the top of Liberty’s hand where the fur was thicker, then flipped it over to the smooth skin of the palm and caressed it. Liberty almost felt human, started to choke up. Liberty pulled her hand away gently and Becky looked up and smiled.

“Thanks for letting me touch you, Liberty.”

Becky jumped out of the cab, walked to the rear of the truck and opened the hatch, “One more thing.” She peered in at Liberty. “If you hear me honk the horn, don’t come back out.”

Liberty waited until Becky got back into the truck before leaning toward the open end. She sniffed the air. No humans nearby, other than her chauffeur. The scent of tar, hay, and, she suspected, some kind of street meat down the road—country air at its finest. She lifted her nose, yep, a woodchuck picked half-clean by crows was her guess. And she was rarely wrong about her street meat.

She slid out of the bed, the truck lifting a couple of inches and squeaking again. Good grief, how much did she weigh?

Liberty peeked up and down the road, dashed across, jumped the ditch, and ran into the woods. A minor adjustment to the north, and she was on the right path. Becky had almost judged it perfectly.

As she became familiar with the woods, her heart started to race. The excitement of her first ride had masked the real reason she was there. How could she have forgotten her purpose? Adrian.

Liberty took off at full speed, leapt over fallen trees and ducked under heavy boughs. She searched overhead for the pitch, knew she should see it any minute. A crash made her jump. Then another crash off to the right. She stopped dead. Had she let her defenses drop? She settled down trying to detect danger. She panned the woods for auras, human or otherwise, and found there were none.

In the darkness a loud pop sounded to the right of her. She crouched on instinct. The tall weeds parted and a herd of deer broke through the brush directly in front of her. A young buck with a touch of velvet on his antlers, as surprised to see her as she was him, bounded over the top of her, a hoof just missing her head. A stampede.

Little whitetails flapped, and she watched the herd as it made its way toward the road where the truck was parked. She wondered if it would startle Becky much as it had her. As long as she didn’t mistakenly beep, they’d be okay.

Chapter Nine

She saw the pitch near the rendezvous and approached with caution. Unable to sense Adrian, her stomach twisted. Something was amiss. She sniffed the air and detected a hint of cigarette smoke. Maybe he had taken up the habit.

Sasquatch teenagers weren’t much different from human ones, other than the obvious, and they all went through phases of rebellion. Smoking was sometimes a part of it, but because her daughter prided herself on appearances, Liberty didn’t believe she would try it. A wishful thought, but at that point she’d have given up her pardon to see Sage hunkered down behind some log puffing away.

She took another few steps toward the rendezvous, felt a buzz in the air as it penetrated every hair follicle. She sent out a feeler but sensed no humans. Some type of electronic device was nearby, though. A mild current. Maybe a dropped cell phone. A mounted trail camera.

She needed to keep her guard up, to bustle, until she figured out exactly what it was. She eyed the hatch of the tiny cavern about ten yards away. The spot was matted. It had been disturbed recently. She moved forward cautiously,