Myth Stalker: Wendigo Nights

1

EXPLOSIVE BEGINNINGS

Selina Moonstone ducked as a small tree, roots dangling, swung at her head. She threw herself into a somersault, deftly coming to her feet and breaking into a run toward the giant red rock formation before her. The thundering footsteps and rancid stench told her the creature wasn't far behind. If she could lead it to the cave about five-hundred feet around the sandstone abutment, she'd have a chance.

A burst of air hit her backside, as if something had just missed her. She leapt sideways, bounding off the rock wall and twisting in mid-air. Her feet hit the packed dirt with a whump, and she risked a glance at the creature behind her. The inky blackness of the night hid his full color, but he was tall, over seven feet, and covered in hair. His eyes caught the light of the moon and glinted yellow. One of his massive hands swung toward her, barely missing as she turned, darting sideways into a copse of pinyon pines. Though their low branches snagged at her clothing and hair, she hoped they would be far more daunting for the pursuing behemoth. Their piney scent surrounded her as she fought through the needles.

Behind her, the creature let out a great growl that sounded like a bear, only deeper and more drawn out. A quick glance back showed her the rough branches pulling at his hair as he batted frantically at them, trying to force his way through. Selina ducked low and squat-walked her way through the remainder of the trees, quick flicks of pain telling her she wasn't escaping the sharp needles entirely. She broke through the last of them and grabbed the flashlight from its casing at her left hip, flashing the light three times in quick succession in the direction of the next rock face, the top of which towered above her like a city building. Three flashes were returned telling her everything was in place.

Come on, Gog, darlin'. She blew a puff of air up at the dark hair laying across her face. I've got things I'd rather be doing.

Huffs and growls sounded behind her. She was happy to hear them getting closer. An entire pinyon pine flew out of the cluster of trees, landing close beside Selina. Bits of dirt and bark struck her, stinging along her right arm and cheek. She brushed the fragments from her face and backed away, ready to sprint as soon as he broke out.

Instead, silence greeted her, everything completely still.

She stopped, using her enhanced vision and hearing to try to detect what was going on. Small sounds reached her ears, none of them coming from the creature. She could smell him again, that rank odor that spoke of unwashed fur and a carnivore's spoils.

A sharp intake of air indicated he was moving again. Just as he burst from the trees, she fell onto her back, lifting her legs to meet the creature's advance. Her feet met his midriff, and she used his own momentum to send him over her where he landed in a heap. He got up right away, as did she, and they faced each other.

He was on the wrong side of where she needed him to be.

In this position, she could see the intelligence in Gog's eyes. He studied her, just as she studied him. His arms fell to his sides, and he tilted his head to the side, gaze boring into her. She spoke to him in a gentle, quiet voice. You know you shouldn't be out here. There's no place for you. You'll be shot or captured, and I don't want that. She tilted her head to match his. I don't suppose you understand any of that, do you?

He continued to look back at her, and for a moment she entertained the thought that maybe he really could understand what she'd said. Then he straightened, fuzzy brow furrowing, eyes narrowing, and lunged.

Selina jumped to her right and darted around Gog. She figured he'd follow her, and she was now back in position to get him where she needed him.

Up ahead, a figure rose from behind some brush, his curly hair a blond halo around his head against the backlighting of the moon. He held something in his hands. It was too dark to make anything else out, and she didn't have time to try, but he was in position. An extra wave of confidence swept over her. Straightening her shoulders, she diverted to the left of him, hoping Gog would continue to pursue her instead of becoming interested in the man in the scrub.

Gog's footsteps gained, which reassured her that he still followed. She looked around to gain a better sense of her location. Surely, she must be nearing her destination.

Finally, a sheer rock face loomed before her. Gateway Rock, she'd know it anywhere. Its presence helped her pick up speed and she put more distance between herself and Gog. She picked out the cave entrance she was looking for and ducked inside as a boulder smashed against the rock wall over her head. Shards of rock peppered her back, slicing exposed flesh with sharp slashes of pain. She winced, but continued on.

Behind her, Gog struggled to get inside. His head, torso, and one arm jutted through the hole. He scraped at the ground with his giant hand, trying to pull himself across the strewn shards and gravel-crusted surface. Despite a small entrance, the inside of the cave was plenty big enough for him to stand up once he got through. She had only seconds before he would join her inside, trapping her.

Selina unbuttoned a pocket on her thigh and pulled out a signal flare. She snapped off the lid and struck the end of the flare against it. Hot red sparks shot out of it, sending a phosphorescent glare throughout the cavern.

Gog broke free, pulling himself inside and standing cautiously to his full height. She threw the flare behind him, ducking behind a rock to the side of the slanted passageway. He flinched and looked back, belting out a terrified roar. He ran toward the tunnel, which carried him straight past Selina's hiding place.

She leapt from behind the rock, jumped over the flare, and escaped through the entrance of the cave. Before she could get her flashlight out to signal, a small explosion occurred behind her. Sandstone rubble fell, blocking the entryway to the cave, and she slid to a stop, placing her hands on her knees and gasping for air. Her lungs burned.

The crunch of gravel alerted her to someone walking toward her. She straightened and looked toward the sound. The owner of the curly hair approached her along the path. He handed her the remote apparatus he'd used to set off the explosives, which she stuffed in the now empty thigh pocket.

Thanks, Brent.

Did it work? You think he's okay? Brent's eyes traveled from the cave to Selina like he was reluctant to look away from where the beast had disappeared.

He should have been far enough in that it didn't hurt him; he might have a headache and crappy hearing for a bit. I think it was the only thing we could do. Besides, you're the one who checked the cave out and told me the tunnel will bring him further into the mountains. He'll be happier there. Safer.

I guess.

I'm fine. She smiled. Thanks for asking.

Sorry. I'm glad you're okay. I'm worried about Gog, is all. He looked back at the rubble blocking the entrance, a wistful look on his face. I wish I could have met him.

He wasn't much for conversation. You know he'll be safer in the mountains than in the middle of suburbia. He's survived this long in that network of caves and tunnels. He'll be fine. Selina approached the cavern entrance. She checked the stability of the rocks, looking for any holes that might be exploited. It seemed to have done the job. The entrance appeared to be well blocked. She only hoped there had been no major rock slides or damage inside, but the charge had been relatively small and set near enough the entrance to minimize damage elsewhere.

I got some good footage of you and Gog, Brent said. Want to see it?

Let's head back to my place. You can help me patch up while we watch.

His eyes widened in concern, and he looked her over, grasping her arm to examine it. You badly hurt anywhere?

No, just a few cuts, I think. Still, a lot of it's on my back, some I can't reach.

Brent rushed to get his stuff from the brush in which he'd concealed it. Selina went to help, but the aches were setting in now, and she slowed her movements. As she approached, he hopped out of the brush, carrying a large rucksack and a small video camera.

She paused to wait for him, and they headed out via a sidewalk that wound through the sandstone rock formations. It was hard to make out the reds and grays of these towering rocks, but Selina knew them well. This was where she came to relax. Nothing grounded her quite like being surrounded by rock formations that rivaled the skyscrapers downtown. Even in the dark they were an awe-inspiring sight, yet peaceful.

Her Jeep sat in the large visitor parking lot. Luckily, Garden of the Gods was closed at night, though that didn't stop people from coming in sometimes. This also meant the police occasionally rode through to check for drunk teenagers and people with spray paint, which had made this mission slightly more treacherous. No one had interrupted them, and she was relieved to see the Jeep remained unmolested.

The desert air had cooled, and with her no longer running around, the chill bit into her skin. The moment she started the Jeep, she hit the switch to her butt warmers and set the heat blasting. It was cold at first, but Jeep heaters were fast and hot. She let the warmth soak into her skin before putting it into gear. Her various cuts prickled with the constrained movements inside the vehicle.

As they drove away, Selina studied the Kissing Camels rock formation. She'd always thought it looked more like a camel and a squirrel. Now that she'd had the opportunity to meet the Garden of the Gods monster—really just a regular old Sasquatch—that had been terrorizing nearby neighborhoods, the park took on a whole new mysticism that hadn't been there before.

She'd loved it here since she was a kid. When she hadn't been on a mission with her father, she'd spent quite a bit of time hiking the paths and climbing these rock structures, yet the only animals she'd discovered previously had been deer, squirrels, rabbits, bighorn sheep, and birds. Even the odd rattlesnake, fox, coyote, mountain lion, or bear.

This park had been sacred to the Ute. Though her people, the Cherokee, had never been here, the quiet power of the place pulsed through her, recharging her energy stores.

What else did the red and gray rocks of Garden of the Gods hide?

2

IN STITCHES

After a stop for nachos at a twenty-four-hour roadside stand, Selina and Brent arrived at her three-bedroom Victorian right outside downtown Colorado Springs. It was big for a woman alone, but she hadn't been able to resist the gorgeous originality of the house, or the giant elms and maples that lined the street. Every home in this area was different from the others, setting the neighborhood apart from the boxy cookie-cutter houses that made up the surrounding suburban areas. Plus, she was walking distance from restaurants and her bank, with only a short drive to outdoor recreation.

Selina took a quick shower, reveling in the heat of the water as it pelted her body. It stung when it touched the multitude of tiny cuts, but she sucked it up and soaped everything down to be sure there'd be no infection. The water pooling around her feet ran red from the sandstone grime covering every inch of her. Pine needles and leaves swirled down the drain. She didn't get out until the water ran clear and clean.

She dried off then wrapped herself in a thick towel, cinching it over her breasts. Glancing at the hair dryer, she dismissed it, not wanting to make Brent wait any longer. Instead, she wrapped her dark, unruly hair up into a sloppy bun on top of her head then dabbed at the moisture that speckled her shoulders. A quick glance in the mirror revealed small nicks on the unblemished skin of her face, especially over her forehead and right cheek. She leaned in and used a finger to rub dirt out of the corners of her eyes. Clean as she was going to get, she went into the living room.

Brent sat on the sofa waiting for her. They settled in to watch the video, Selina perched on the sofa in front of Brent as he used tweezers to pick out bits of wood and rock from her injuries. She'd received a few good lashings as she went through the trees, and virtually her entire body was covered in scratches and gashes. She used a second pair of tweezers to go over her legs and arms. It was tedious, but important. Who knew what a creature as old as Gog might be carrying around in his fur, and what she may have come into contact with. With her rapid healing abilities, she wanted to be sure nothing remained inside once the cuts sealed.

The video wasn't the best quality, but she could make herself out, pale against the night. Oddly, Gog looked larger to her on the video than he had in person. It was strange to see herself running in front of the massive creature. She couldn't make out his color on the video, but she'd pulled thick, brown hairs off her clothing.

There goes the tree he threw at you! Brent whooped. For a second I thought it was going to take you out. Good thing you're so fast.

I felt that puppy go right over me.

She watched in fascination, right up to the moment the cave blew. As comical as Gog's struggle to get into the cave had been from her side, it was twice as funny watching it from the outside. They both burst out laughing as the poor monster's feet scrabbled at the dirt, trying to push his way inside.

Once it finished, Brent started it again. He's so smart. Watch how he responds to your movements.

How did you know about the cave?

Spaulding's Cavern? It's been around for ages. A trapper found it in 1848. When I was doing research on Bigfoot in that region, I kept coming across information about this cave that had been sealed in 1963 and was thought to have housed a creature. Articles talked about the network of caves and tunnels running beneath the park and Manitou Springs, but they'd never fully explored them. It was only a matter of time before it opened back up, considering it's been discovered after erosion several times since Spaulding claimed it.

Why'd they keep sealing it up then? Sounds like a fun place to explore.

The sandstone's too fragile. The park rangers were afraid someone would get injured by falling rock, so they closed it off. Brent paused. A sharp pain followed as he extracted a particularly large piece of something from her right shoulder. You've got a nasty gash here. Might benefit from a few stitches.

I don't suppose you'll do the stitches? I really don't feel like going to the doctor, and if it heals like this I'll have yet another scar.

I don't have anything to stitch you up with.

I do. If you're willing, I'll go get it. Selina turned to look at Brent, who hadn't replied. He had paled, lips pinched. You don't want to do it, do you? She thought for a moment. Can you hold a mirror while I do it?

That I can do. He visibly relaxed and eased back against the sofa.

Selina went to her main floor bathroom to grab her first-aid kit, the one she took along on her bigger myth stalking expeditions. Inside was everything she needed, including curved surgical needles and thread. She settled back in front of Brent and handed him a medium-sized mirror. Pouring a small amount of rubbing alcohol into a shallow dish, she put the thread in it to soak.

Brent cleaned the wound then applied an ice pack to her back while she waited, numbing the area.

Once she'd become numb enough, Selina removed the thread from the alcohol and inserted it through the surgical needle. She then lit a lighter and held the needle in the flame for a few seconds. At her request, Brent applied some antiseptic to her back then held up the mirror until she nodded that she could see it. She craned her head to look over her shoulder and stuck the needle in below the gash.

Brent promptly shut his eyes, still holding the mirror up.

Wimp. She laughed as she pulled the thread through her flesh. It stung, and the laugh came out as more of a gasp. She gritted her teeth.

The gash wasn't too bad, so it didn't take long to get it stitched. Brent taped a sterile bandage over it, and they returned to picking out slivers and rock chips, the second play of the footage long over.

You think any of that footage will allow you to publish about this one, Brent?

I don't know. I got some clear shots, but I'm not sure how the Cryptid community will feel about what I helped you do.

What would they have wanted us to do? she asked. Leave him out to keep eating people's pets? Eventually, he would have hurt a person, possibly killed them. Or someone would have killed him. This is too populous an area to leave something like Gog free.

I know that, you know that, but convincing other Cryptos will be harder. They weren't here. They'll probably say we should have left him alone or relocated him.

Yeah, not sure how we would have accomplished that. Selina threw her hand up in exasperation.

Done removing the bits and pieces buried in her skin, Brent cleaned the other wounds, careful to keep the bandage around her stitches dry.

Well, just tell them my job is normally to kill these creatures, but you helped me keep him alive.

We'll see. Either way, I'll be going through the footage to see what I've got. This was an awesome night. Thanks for calling me in to help.

I missed you. Thought it was about time we got together again.

Selina said this quietly, turning to face Brent. She smiled at him, grateful for his help. It had been a while since they'd worked together. They both traveled heavily for their jobs, rarely together. They'd been friends for over two decades; he was someone she always felt comfortable talking to and being around. She leaned into him to give him a quick hug, but he reached for her, eyes meeting hers as he cupped her chin and pulled her in for a kiss. His lips were soft and warm. He tasted spicy.

She slid a hand up his chest, feeling the firmness of the muscles beneath the soft cotton of his shirt. He smelled like the outdoors, an earthy scent that went right to her middle. Underneath that was a musky, citrusy scent. She'd always loved the way he smelled.

As nice as this would be, and as much as she wanted it, their friendship was more important to her. Her eyes jerked open and she used the hand on his chest to push away from him. She clutched the towel at her chest. I'm sorry, Brent. I can't do this. We can't do this. I didn't mean to⁠—

It's okay. I should have known better.

Selina could see him closing off to her, the light in his eyes dimming. His shoulders hunched forward and he pulled away. She wanted to reach out to him, but feared it could send the wrong signal. Instead, she got up. I need to get dressed. Will you be here when I'm done, so we can talk?

He looked away from her, and she tensed, but then he said, Yes, I'll be here.

With a sigh of relief, she headed into her bedroom to throw on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Her hair had mostly dried, and she released it from the bun so it wouldn't be a bird's nest when it fully dried. She grabbed a pair of fluffy socks and slid them on, her feet whispering across the floor as she went back into the living room.

Brent still sat on the sofa. He was watching the video for the third time, and he didn't look up when she came in. Selina slid into the overstuffed chair next to his side of the sofa and waited for the video to end.

When he had stopped it and set the remote down on the coffee table, she said, I'm sorry.

You don't have to keep apologizing, Selina. I'm the one who should be sorry. It just…it felt right.

She looked down at her sock, picking at a thread hanging off it. I don't want to lose our friendship over this. She raised her eyes to meet his. This isn't going to mess things up, is it? It's been so long since we saw each other. I value our friendship.

His solemn face softened, and a small smile touched his lips. We're okay, Selina. But I think it's time for me to head home for tonight. It's after three, and my ego needs some time. He reached forward and grasped her hand, gave a quick squeeze, then stood and gathered his things.

She watched as he packed away the camera. When he'd finished, she got up and walked him to the door, locking it behind him.

She hoped he hadn't been lying. She wasn't exactly swimming in friends these days.

3

AN OLD FRIEND CALLS

Selina awoke the next morning to a persistent ringing. She rolled over and looked at the bedside clock. 10 A.M. Groaning, she grabbed the phone. Who is this?

The person on the other end hesitated a moment then said, I see I woke your sunny ass up, hey?

It took Selina a minute to process the rich, warm voice on the other end, but she perked up when she did. Nathan! How goes it in the other North America?

Not good, Selina. I need to ask you a favor. It wasn't like Nathan to skip the friendly preliminaries.

She instantly sobered. Anything.

I need you to come up here. We have a Wendigo situation, and you're the only person I trust to deal with it.

Wendigo? A knot formed in her stomach. Wendigo was her least favorite type of creature to stalk, but it was also her specialty. Go figure. Do you know who it is? She sat up, the blankets pooling around her waist. She kept a small pad and pen in the bedside table drawer, and she pulled them out. Faint light came around the edges of the blinds, lending just enough helpful illumination.

I do, Nathan said. I'll explain everything when you get here. Can you do it? I'll pay your normal fee, plus a bonus for the rush.

Of course. I've just come off a local case, but I can be in Alberta by tomorrow. Is that soon enough?

Yes, that'll be fine.

Okay, Nathan, stay safe. You remember the basic protection?

Seeing as how I'm the one who taught you, I do. He chuckled. I'll see you tomorrow. I've got most of the materials you'll need for the basics, so just bring your personal gear. He paused, the silence buzzing over the phone line. It's bad, Selina. Get here as fast as you can. There isn't much time.

I understand. I'll be there. I'm calling the travel agent as soon as we hang up.

Bye, kiddo.

Take care.

A click, and the dial tone sounded in her ear. She settled the phone back onto its charger. Nathan, who was typically laid back, had sounded scared. He was never an alarmist, never dramatic. Something bad must be going down, and it