Cold Cat Mountain: The Peak (Cold Cat Mountain Trilogy Book 1) Read online

  Blaze closed the book and stood up.

  “What does this mean for us?” Her voice pulled Matilda back into the present. She searched Blaze’s eyes for fear or trepidation. Seeing none she smiled. “Not much. I mean we will have to shovel off the roof during daylight hours, but it’s only going to change our approach minimally. And footprints will be easier to find. We like that part.” She looked back out at the sky. “Let’s get a few things readied.”

  ~*~

  Blaze followed Matilda outside in boots and a dark coat. She had covered the light blue of her jacket just to be safe.

  No point in provoking it, or, provoking a monster. She was amused with her own line of thought, and almost ran into the back of Matilda, who’d stopped.

  Reaching down, she pulled a hidden hatch door open, leading to a fairly shallow cache of supplies. “Oh my, you are quite well prepared aren’t you?” Blaze turned around inside the small space that was about fifteen feet deep. Everything both edible and non-edible was in plastic containers.

  Blaze turned to Matilda. “Did you know snow was coming?”

  In answer Matilda only shrugged as she moved a plastic bin. When it was relocated she answered.

  “The weather reports are often not accurate at this time of year. I’m sure we will be alright though. We have a lot of supplies prepared.”

  “Do we have enough resources to remain cut off for a while?” Blaze was skeptical.

  Matilda nodded.

  Back up top, with snow shovels and a couple extra gallons of fuel Matilda closed the door and led the way back to the motor home.

  Blaze looked up. Snow would make things more interesting. That was all they needed. Back inside Matilda put on another pot of tea, sharing with Blaze that she would shortly have a new game plan for their research. Blaze looked toward the door, uneasy about venturing out into the woods, and returned to her book. The rain had slowed to a soft drizzle.

  As dusk approached a loud shrill echoed through the trees around the Vacationer. Matilda dropped her pen, easing away from the desk where she’d been hunched over. Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear she turned slowly toward Blaze.

  “It’s getting dark. We need to get ready. It will be more aggressive tonight.”

  Blaze swore under her breath, setting down the book. Matilda was suddenly all business. “Sit and cuss all you want- this is happening.” She shoved a knife into a hidden pocket of her boot, glaring at Blaze. “Get your hat on. We have to spin wire around the perimeter.”

  Matilda’s sudden intensity had Blaze on edge. “Matilda wait. I know there is a lot going on here.” Her eyes darted. Swallowing she held out her hand to slow Matilda’s movements. Zipping up her coat Matilda looked around impatiently, retrieving a couple items from her desk and shoving them into her pockets.

  Blaze lowered her voice. “Matilda, I need you to look at me. Really hear me.”

  Matilda gestured impatiently for Blaze to speak.

  “You’re the expert on,” Blaze gestured around the room, with all of its books and maps, “all of this. But you hired me to help you. Do we agree on that?”

  Matilda frowned. “Yes, of course we do.” Blaze licked her lips and continued.

  “Matilda, you have been through extreme situations I wouldn’t be able to comprehend. But, I think if you will slow your lead, and explain what’s happening, and why you are all of a sudden in rush to get up a perimeter, when we could have done it earlier then I can respond and help without asking you so many questions, which seem to annoy you by the way.”

  Matilda looked around raising her arms, frustrated. “I didn’t know we were going to be right in the damned circle!”

  Blaze dropped her head, looking up from beneath her furrowed brows.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Matilda tapped her foot impatiently. “That sound was too close. That’s never happened before.”

  Blaze held up her hand, as if to indicate safety.

  “It may be a one-time event. Let’s at least wait and see.” Matilda raised her eyes in shock. “Are you kidding me? It is a predator. Night is when it’s on the move. I’m sorry if I am scaring you, but this is what I do, and this creature is aggressive. More aggressive than I am used to. We have to get up a perimeter wire right away.”

  Blaze nodded and swallowed. “Will the perimeter wire stop this thing?”

  Matilda shook her head. “No. It acts as a warning device for us though.”

  Blaze dropped her hands and stood back, shaking her head. “What did you mean we’re right in the circle?”

  “I’m not crazy Blaze.”

  Blaze raised her eyebrows. “Ok. Duly noted. Now, what’s the circle?”

  Sighing Matilda rubbed her forehead. “It’s the center of their activities. The hub. It’s their territory.”

  Blaze held up her hand. “Wait. They? As in more than one, Matilda?” Matilda nodded mutely. “I think so. This is all changing too fast. I came for one. And I didn’t have any idea I’d put us in their hub. I thought I was just close to the center of activity. I’ve screwed up Blaze. We can’t move now, and things are going to escalate. We have to get moving.”

  Blaze shook her head. “Let’s go then.” Looking relieved Matilda turned and led the way out. Blaze reached up and grabbed the .38 as she moved past the shelf and out the door. She reminded herself that she’d be speaking again with Matilda about her communication skills.

  Moving quickly Matilda showed Blaze how to circle the tree trunks with the wire they’d purchased on a large spool, to create a boundary of sorts. Matilda chattered helpfully as they moved between trees, sharing that the wire obviously would not prevent anything from approaching the motor home. Blaze pondered the reality of the wires actual effectiveness but followed Matilda’s lead quietly and efficiently. Just as dark settled in the first flakes of snow appeared. Moving quickly, Matilda hooked up the electric fence wire to a small red box and hid the red blinking light under the cover of a thick black drop cloth. The steady hum of the generator canceled any electrical current that could be heard humming through the quiet. Matilda and Blaze quickly added fuel to the generator and returned inside the long black vehicle. Blaze noted it had tinted windows again and she was grateful. Back inside Matilda swiftly removed her boots and moved up the stairs. Her voice was much calmer but she was still narrating quickly.

  “We need all the blinds closed and the curtains pulled.”

  Blaze stopped in her tracks. Matilda turned, shrugging an apology.

  “Please don’t panic Blaze.”

  Blaze moved swiftly around to her side of the large vehicle, muttering to herself.

  “I need a drink.” An hour later, with the recreational rig locked down and the interior closed off to the outside, Blaze and Matilda ate a quiet dinner. Without the added insulation of falling rain to block outside noises Blaze requested they play some music, which had only earned her a frown as Matilda turned down all the lights except one.

  Blaze countered her unspoken response. “If there is something out there don’t you think it can hear the generator anyway?”

  Matilda took a cautionary breath, as if testing her own lungs. “Blaze, I don’t know what adding music to this scenario will do. It’s like you’re asking me to swim with sharks, and then offering me symbols to clang while I kick and thrash around in the water. Think about this, please.”

  Blaze held up her hands. “Okay. I’m sorry.” Matilda poured two glasses of wine, offering one to Blaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that to sound so harsh. It’s just that in this world, it’s all speculation and collection of evidence. Very seldom do we find ourselves in the cross-hairs of an actual cryptid, and when we do we have to apply the most minimal amount of distraction to our, their, environment. I could turn off the generator yes, but it may also be the only thing preventing its approach right now.”

  Matilda shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  Blaze took a long bracing gulp of wine and swall
owed. “Okay. Now what do we do?”

  Matilda turned in a half circle.

  “I think we stay away from the windows and we wait for the sun to come up. If anything comes through that door we shoot to kill.” Blaze considered Matilda’s comment about the windows and slid to the floor in front of the fireplace. The light, however fake, made her feel safer. Pulling the .38 close she watched Matilda settle in for the night too, at her desk, working by minimal light. It was clear she’d done it before. In the quiet Blaze sipped her wine, and considered monsters. Real or unreal, she spilled the contents of her glass when a roar seized them in its grip, almost causing the motor home to rock on its wheels.

  Matilda turned slowly in her chair, pressing her index finger to her lips. Blaze watched as the wine seeped slowly into the gray carpeting, and was grateful it was white wine. Focused on the sound she froze, pulling the .38 close. They waited in silence. Another loud screeching howl reverberated through the small glade.

  A million thoughts raced through Blaze’s mind, none of which included logic. Her familiar companion fled, leaving her with a small mocking voice in her head, prodding her with questions. Why didn’t they have night vision? How would they use it now anyway? They couldn’t look out the windows. What about game cameras? Blaze had heard of those, and had seen some of the results on YouTube. Why were they alone in the woods to begin with? Shouldn’t they have hired a sharp shooter or someone to sit vigil on the roof?

  Matilda diligently recorded the sounds, and entered their times onto her laptop. Blaze was fueled by pure adrenaline. She began shivering and eventually sat with her back to the small faux fireplace, holding the .38 and watching the door without blinking.

  By dawn she was exhausted and uncertain. Matilda stayed up a bit longer, after they’d checked the perimeter. It had been pulled lose, the wire snapped. The box was still intact so it made sense the roar they’d heard may have been from the creature experiencing an electrical shock.

  It, whatever it was, had tried to approach, and quite possibly had.

  Blaze took an anxiety pill and fell sideways onto her bed, leaving the blinds and curtains closed.

  The sedated monster in her own head giggled sleepily, gleeful with the turn of events.

  “You already know all about monsters,” he said regretfully. “Don’t you kitten?” ― A. Zavarelli

  ~Twenty-One ~

  The snow leopard looked down from its vantage point at the highest ledge of the peak, watching. As it surveyed the rocky crags and forested slopes leading down to the black motor home it crouched low, its tail moving slowly back and forth. The light colored covering of fur, dotted with darkened rosettes would have made it invisible to another within the vicinity.

  Gordon lowered his binoculars and shifted quietly in his saddle. His horse, well above size for its early age shifted its weight to another leg, waiting. In the snow, just a little higher than the cat, he scanned the mountainside. It was quiet. He lowered his glass, and narrowed his eyes. The cat flexed its haunches and peered toward the west. Gordon raised the binoculars again, scanning the area where the cat’s eyes lingered. His jaw flexed as he moved systematically along the tree line. Pressing down onto the rock ledge the cat almost flattened itself. In the solitude of the white powdered mountain Gordon too waited. A light snow dusted his shoulders and hat rim. The horse lifted its head, nostrils flaring. He moved his buckskin glove along the animal’s neck.

  “Easy,” he breathed quietly. The horse pulled its head up again, dancing sideways. At the same time the cat swished its tail and crept backwards until it could turn. It paused on the ledge, its eyes locking onto Gordon’s. Gordon pulled up the reigns a bit, maintaining the eye contact with the elusive cat. They knew each other well enough. Gordon’s heart rate slowed as he watched the cat move toward the back of the ledge it had been on, leaping gracefully onto the crest. It stopped and looked back again. To Gordon’s right the brush shifted and his horse raised an alarm, the whites of its eyes showing as it sensed a predator. Working the horse slowly away from the edge of the peak Gordon stilled the gelding and retrieved his rifle from the scabbard. Carefully lying the reins across Storm’s neck he raised the butt of the rifle to his shoulder. A tree branch swayed, causing snow to flutter from the bough. He gently pressed his finger pad onto the trigger, communicating with his horse via pressure he applied through his thighs. Slowly and deliberately, something pushed the tree. The base of the old pine groaned. Gordon watched as the roots snapped, and the tree lurched forward hitting the ground and shattering the silence. When the snow cleared Gordon lowered his rifle, slowly returning it in the scabbard. If it had wanted him dead he would be. Instead it’d issued a warning.

  With a soft tap of his heels Storm responded and moved forward. Gordon peered down from his saddle but could see no prints in the new powder.

  A familiar heat raised on the back of his neck and Storm danced sideways, throwing his head.

  They were being watched.

  “The problem with people who say monsters don't really exist is that they're almost never saying it to the monsters."

  —Alice Healy

  ~Twenty-two ~

  Matilda and Blaze walked through the trees for what seemed like hours. After Matilda had roused her Blaze had risen from her twin bed like one of the walking dead. The chemical effects of adrenaline did nothing for her. In fact, she felt shaky and weak as she dressed for what remained of the day, while the night still loomed ahead like a fist. Smacking her lips together she trudged quietly, albeit alertly behind Matilda.

  They passed all manner as soft w slopes, crags and terrain as white flakes fell upon them as they traversed the steeply wooded mountainside. Matilda called it a field exploration, and her eyes were tireless as she took in the positioning of rocks, fallen trees and limbs. She recorded as she went, on a small hand held camera, moving deliberately. Blaze followed suit, trying to proceed as Matilda had instructed, carefully pressing her feet into the ground with a heel-toe formation to minimize noise.

  The back of Blaze’s neck had tightened briefly upon waking, but she found her inner monster was curious too, quietly watching from its closet as she moved through the lightly fallen snow. Before they’d set out Matilda had meticulously set her alarm on her watch to vibrate just ahead of dusk. They would need time to return to the motor home and complete their preparations for another long night.

  Blaze couldn’t put her finger on it, but Matilda appeared uncertain as they walked, frowning almost quizzically from time to time as she surveyed their terrain. They’d not spoken about the events of the night before, and it seemed Matilda somehow accepted Blaze’s discomfort with the subject at hand, even in the face of its reality. In fact, perhaps Matilda had expected it. Blaze reminded herself of that often as they moved up the steep rocky ground, rather than focusing on the fact Matilda might be feeling disappointment in Blaze’s obvious anxiety. Again, Blaze reminded herself it was for her skepticism Matilda had sought out. As Matilda slowed to record a branch hanging low and broken from a fairly young tree Blaze paused, listening to her own breath. The wooded slope was eerily silent, deafening in its lack of movement aside from their presence. She lifted her head, looking up at the tall trees waving above them. They swayed gently in the low winds, but as though they refused to brush another branch for fear of drawing attention. Matilda dropped to one knee, moving her camera in on something that escaped Blaze. The snow had picked up since they’d left their research rig. Matilda had locked it behind them as they left. The irony was not lost on Blaze as she strained to hear anything beyond her own breath. Even a bird song would have been welcomed. The flutter of wing on the sound of flight. The circumference they’d hiked was uneven, sloping sharply upward. Blaze turned to look back down the thickly forested incline.

  As the hair slowly stood up on the back of her neck she froze. Her blood ran cold for no apparent reason as her eyes widened, scanning the quiet slope. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

  She
glanced back down at Matilda, who was studiously recording another branch on the same tree, lower than the first.

  Blaze barely found her voice to whisper. “Matilda.”

  The slight wind stopped and Matilda stood up wiping off the lens of her camera.

  “Matilda.”

  Blaze felt her legs begin to shake.

  Matilda froze as she stood erect.

  She’d heard it too. Blaze started to back up, but Matilda shot out her hand to stay her retreat. They stood waiting. Blaze felt the trembling move up her legs and into her upper body and torso.

  Something had whispered.

  They both stood rooted and Matilda staunchly raised her camera, peering through the back, taking in the landscape.

  Blaze felt her hands twitch as the adrenaline surged through her body. Something was in the woods with them. Something was close. Too close.

  Matilda sniffed the air, lowering her camera. She turned to Blaze. Her eyes were filled with something unidentifiable. They were wide, and her jaw trembled. She motioned with her hand to begin backing up. Blaze fought the urge to turn and run. Matilda reached out and tapped Blaze on the arm, creating a gun signal with her fingers. Still trembling Blaze withdrew the .38, leveling it toward the thick dark copse of trees ahead of them.

  Walking backwards they both heard the vibration of Matilda’s watch. Matilda pressed her free hand around the watch, buffering the sound as she pulled on Blaze by the arm.

  Blaze lost track of how long they’d actually retraced their steps in a backward advance to the motor home, but even when they’d finally turned their backs, both frequently shot looks over their shoulders. At the edge of the tiny glade where they camped Matilda jogged ahead unlocking the door with Blaze standing guard at her back, watching.