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

  Blaze moved up the stairs backward, one step at a time until she reached the open door, slammed it and turned the small lock. When she finally released her breath she sank to the couch near the fireplace . Adrenaline propped her eyes open as she stared up at the ceiling, alert and agitated. As her heart began to slow she turned to Matilda, who was pulling a .45 from the shelf above her desk.

  In the short amount of time they had remaining before night fall they’d moved through their evening routine, gassing up the generator, repairing the electric fence, and much to Blaze’s aggravation, Matilda began to build a bon fire. Wanting to be inside Blaze reluctantly agreed with, the ingenuity in building a large fire scientifically at least. She hoped whatever stalked them back to the campsite would be afraid of fire. Matilda reasoned they wouldn’t know until they tried. Powers of deduction for the sake of science. Blaze moved through the camp, wary, keeping one hand on her .38.

  When Matilda was satisfied with the fire, they stood together in the early dusk, listening. It had been about the same time the night before when the creature had alerted them to its presence. Blaze prayed silently the dark would hold on to its secrets for the night. She was still exhausted from standing guard the night before. Or, perhaps the predator would move on. Her sense of reason was becoming a thin line she peered at from behind a growing suspicion that Matilda was pursuing extreme danger; A danger which was turning on her, and skillfully returning her attention it seemed.

  Blaze watched Matilda walk the perimeter of the electric fence line as the fire crackled. She paused near the generator and turned up the wattage of the electrical box attached to the fence wire. Sure, piss it off more.

  Sure.

  Piss it off more. Blaze squeezed her tired eyes shut, letting the heat from the fire warm her chilled bones. The snow had fallen steadily during their return to camp, and Blaze watched as it slowly accumulated, gaining depth. A high mountain storm was nothing to shrug off. Matilda had warned her they would likely end up snowed in during the winter and early spring. Blaze shuddered in the dark as the bon fire played with shadows, casting them in eerie directions, creating twisted and elongated shapes.

  She hoped they would be snowed in. The hike earlier that day had left her with an unfamiliar humming in her head; it felt like a vibration just beneath the surface of her thoughts.

  Matilda had also decided they should eat by the fire, to demonstrate absence of fear. Blaze tried to chew and swallow her sandwich, tasting fear around the edges of her mouth that no amount of mayonnaise could cover; the sharp metallic taste riding her coated her pallet. The sounds they’d retreated from in the steep terrain below their camp dominated her thoughts. She tossed the crust from her bread into the fire, slowly chewing as she watched the dark around her for movement.

  Each time she approached a new solution to what she thought may be watching them, her own monster would clench its clawed hand, digging into her soft scalp, as if it wanted the predator to be real. Its own appetite was increasing. Blaze shook her head, afraid where the precarious turn of events would take her health.

  In the silence of the snowy night a low moan issued from the ridge above their camp, almost a wail, deep and guttural. Matilda froze, with her drink halfway to her mouth. She threw another log on the fire, looking up toward the peak of Cold Cat as sparks flew and drifted upward into the inky dark night.

  Moments passed. When another low moan drifted across the trees and Matilda climbed to the top of the motor home. Pulling on a huge lever, the lights inside the RV dimmed and wavered as Matilda stood behind a huge spotlight which drew most of the power feed from the generator. Deftly moving the spotlight around, she pointed it toward the peak behind their camp. As the light traveled the ridge line Blaze moved away from the fire to get a view of what it might illuminate. The new snow made it difficult to see, with the beam obstructed by a thin veil of white flakes.

  Finally satisfied, Matilda climbed down and added more wood to the fire. When Blaze could no longer keep her eyes open they banked up the fire and retreated indoors.

  As they did another howl rang out. Matilda spoke softly, encouraging Blaze to sleep in the small space between the sofa and the fireplace on the floor. To avoid the walls and windows she took a post on the mantle of the fireplace, offering to wake Blaze when she could not stay awake any longer herself.

  Blaze dropped from exhaustion and slept heavily. The floor had never felt so good, or so safe.

  “Then stop trying to throw logic at nightmares. Sometimes the monsters are real, Anita. Sometimes they're real and the only way to defeat them is to be the bigger monster.” ― Laurell K. Hamilton

  ~Twenty-three ~

  The falling flakes outside the dining room window continued to increase in size and density. Blaze leaned against the counter of the small kitchen sipping coffee. The woods had turned completely white over-night, with a thick layer building tenaciously on the branches and limbs beyond their windows. She glanced over her shoulder toward Matilda, who’d moved to the twin bed after she had woken Blaze once daylight broke across the peak. The sound of the generator was soothing, and Blaze’s bond with it had grown following their experience in the woods the night before. It reminded her civilization was not so far off. Even if it did feel far.

  Matilda stirred in the back of the RV, walking out with disheveled hair and wearing black long johns. She accepted the mug of coffee Blaze held out to her and slipped into one of the large chairs facing the fire place. She sniffed a couple of times and rubbed her eyes with her free hand. When she looked up her eyes were bloodshot from fatigue.

  Blaze sat down. “Matilda-“ Matilda rested her head on the back of the chair. “I know.” Her voice was clipped, almost icy.

  They sat in silence for a moment. Neither wanting to discuss what was at hand. Neither having answers. The fake crackling of the fire place was a small comfort as they sat in the high mountain glade, watching themselves be snowed in. Blaze wondered how Skid was fairing. Hopefully better than they were. Matilda lifted her head, and continued to stare at the patterned orange flames as they revolved behind the decorative glass.

  “I’m sorry, Blaze. I didn’t mean to be so clipped with you. I’m just tired…and confused to be honest.”

  “Me too.” Blaze reached for a granola bar, tossing one to Matilda. “Let’s eat our weight in carbs.”

  Matilda slowly opened the wrapper to hers, munching and sipping her coffee. Blaze watched her a moment. “Just to be clear, what are you confused by? I mean, I know what’s griping me but you’ve seemed really distant. And not just because of fatigue, which would make sense.”

  Squeezing her eyes shut Matilda rubbed them again. Her voice was raspy. “I now realize I’m not a great teacher. I thought I would be. It just hit me yesterday that I go into auto pilot mode and tend to leave you stumbling around for answers while asking you to run for your life- or build big ass fires to protect yourself while appearing brave. I am so sorry Blaze.”

  She meant it. Her face was earnest. Pale, but earnest. Her dark eyes had smudges of purple beneath them, contrasting against her pale skin. “I wanted a partner who didn’t necessarily believe. Someone who didn’t jump at the sound of a tree branch breaking. I found her- but I have not handled all of this very well. I am so sorry. I meant for you to learn through observation, which is how I learned. But, I failed to realize that you’re observing some extraordinarily critical events that even have me second guessing my theories. How could I have closed you out like that?”

  Blaze remained silent. She was struggling. It was not the time to lend her struggle credence though. Matilda wiped away a stray tear.

  “Oh, perfect. And now I’m crying. Would you hand me a tissue?” Matilda wiped her eyes and rubbed her forehead, sitting quietly a moment. Blaze had already taken her medication, but felt her scalp began to tighten. Rolling her neck, she tried easing the tension she felt stirring.

  Matilda turned and faced Blaze.

  “We have a problem.�
�� Her voice rasped slightly, as if she were coming down with a cold.

  Blaze shifted her coffee mug. “Alright. Let’s talk about it.” Matilda looked grateful, in the same way she’d been when they were at the radio station and Blaze had made her loyalty clear. Her eyes glistened but Matilda forged ahead.

  “I’m not going to sugar coat anything. And you can ask me anything as we go along. I’ve taken a step back, and this process is going to be more complicated than I’d expected.”

  She stood and topped off her coffee, speaking as she did.

  “You don’t believe in Cryptids. I do. We know that. And logic also dictates we admit we don’t know what happened yesterday, correct?”

  Blaze felt relief flood through her. “Yes. We don’t know what happened yesterday.” Her words tumbled forward almost too quickly. Matilda sat, facing Blaze again as steam rose from her mug. “But what if I said I did have some idea? I can share it, and I want to. But I also want you to know two things: I want your feedback, and second, I may be in over my head on this and what I’m going to tell you must remain confidential. No matter what.”

  Blaze gulped her coffee in a swallow too large

  “How can you be in over your head? This is what you do. Is this about you’re theory?”

  Matilda offered a slightly condescending look.

  “Seriously, Blaze? Didn’t you eventually find yourself in over your head too at some point in your former line of work?” “Yes.” Blaze’s tone was flat with an admission she didn’t enjoy. She also didn’t enjoy where the conversation might be going. More secrets, and more information Matilda had previously withheld. It was becoming an unwelcome pattern.

  Hunting for a fluffy camera shy cryptid was one thing. She’d been prepared to find nothing- even excited about it on a very deep level. Blaze surmised they would camp out for six months and return to their previous routine; in Portland hunting fictitious monsters from the Northwest, while taking phone calls and grant money to do it. This felt different. As though Matilda were reluctant to change Blaze’s mind about monsters, and knew she wouldn’t be able to prevent it. “How are you in over your head?” Blaze tried to take a calming breath. Her chest felt tight.

  “I thought I was wrong about some theories that I’ve never shared. Theories that wouldn’t have been readily accepted in the world of Cryptozoology. And before you respond with something like pointing out my recent finds and building off of those as a platform this is very different. These are theoretical conclusions I haven’t been able to prove. The world does not want Sasquatch to be harmful. A lot of people believe it is a descendant of Gigantopithecus, as did I. And they want it to be bashful. What we experienced yesterday fell in line with theories I haven’t yet shared; and that feeling we both had was anything but harmless.”

  Matilda closed her eyes and sighed. “Would you agree?”

  Blaze nodded. Waiting for the rest.

  Matilda propped up her foot, continuing. “What did you experience yesterday, Blaze?” Blaze closed her eyes and recalled the imagery of the thickly wooded area came back in subtle and not so subtle waves. The tangible unease. The thick atmosphere. The sense of danger. The odd paralysis. Trembling. Blaze shared and recounted all of those feelings with Matilda, who listened, nodding occasionally until Blaze was finished.

  Matilda stood and wondered over to the desk area, retrieving a book, a leather bound volume marked age. Holding it up briefly she passed it to Blaze.

  “I found this in an old bookstore. The accounts within it are strikingly similar to what we experienced yesterday.”

  Blaze held the thick book carefully on her lap, opening it and running her fingers over the worn ink illustrations of trees, tangled forests and shadowed imagery of something lurking within the drawings- something her eyes almost missed. Blaze lowered her head, searching the pages, intently. The shadowed figure emerged again and again, lurking, stalking, and watching without being detected.

  She looked up. “Is this what you suspect?” Blaze peered closely at the dark figure, large in size, and purposefully camouflaged. Matilda shook her head. “I believe that it’s Sasquatch, but not the Sasquatch we’ve been led to believe exists. This is a predator. In fact, what we felt yesterday I’ve only felt one other time, and that was just before I met you. There are a lot of theories about a different Sasquatch and very little evidence, obviously. But what we do know about animals, predators specifically, is that they have honed their skills over the centuries. They’re patient. They’re capable of stalking even while being stalked. And, if an undiscovered species may have developed a defense mechanism, and can apply that skill set toward humans, you would have a killing machine that could not only walk upright, but one that may be capable of intellectual strategy; one that could turn the tables on us, like yesterday. We were being watched. I think we can both agree to that?”

  Blaze turned another page and glanced up. “Ok. What about the defense mechanisms?”

  Matilda leaned forward and turned the books pages until a section in the back appeared with a list of physical effects one could experience when being hunted by the illustrated predator.

  Blaze blinked and looked up. “These are all the same things I felt yesterday. Trembling, adrenaline, and inability to move.”

  Matilda passed another, smaller text book to Blaze. Its red colored front had a one word title across the top in black.

  Infrasound. “I don’t know if you’ve ever heard of it, but scientists believe it’s the sound that lies below what the human ear can register. Elephants use it, and can communicate across long distances to one another, but so do predators. The tone is believed to be responsible for our “sixth sense” reaction to things around us. The symptoms you have read there are the symptoms elicited by Infrasound, too low for the human ear to hear, but the human body responds nonetheless. Blaze, our bodies can discern it. In fact, our organs even respond to it.”

  Matilda thought for a moment before continuing, which allowed Blaze a moment to process.

  “I would like to share my theory with you, with your permission.”

  Blaze attuned quickly to the change in Matilda’s tone. Setting both books aside she rested her hands in her lap, cupping her coffee mug.

  “I would also like to ask you to never repeat this theory. To anyone.” Blaze considered the request and slowly nodded.

  Matilda pointed toward the books. “If I’m correct, while arguments ensue over what kind of animal Sasquatch is, or if it is a hybrid of humans, this creature has continued to do what it does without interruption. By using Infrasound on its victims or witnesses, whichever it happens to be, the creature can emit a warning, a very visceral warning. The physical symptoms we experienced yesterday are not prompting me to return to the site where we were yesterday. In fact, I want to avoid it now at all costs.”

  Blaze assessed her own response to the event the day before. She too appreciated the thought of not ever returning. Matilda continued. “My theory is, what if this specific predator has been at large for so long because it’s also utilized an unknown ability to affect us? As in the way we perceive it, how we react to it. Think about it, think of all the stories of people who’ve had close encounters with a Sasquatch and cannot seem to stay away from the area they claimed to have first sighted a it.”

  “So it manipulates people’s thoughts?” Blaze shook her head.

  “No.”

  Matilda stood up and sat nearer Blaze, searching her eyes. “No. What I mean is, what if it has the ability to draw people back to it? If there’d been a sighting, what if the Sasquatch had the ability to alter the individual’s instincts, by overriding that Infrasound response and drawing people back?”

  Blaze considered the logic of Matilda’s theory.

  “So, a reverse of the original I

  Infrasound effect? A magnetic pull?” Matilda nodded. “People who’ve sighted Sasquatch often cannot stop hunting. And they can almost never accurately describe what they’ve seen, although some
can. It often comes out as a black furry animal. And what’s worse, these are intelligent people who know on a very deep level what they saw, and cannot fathom why others don’t believe them. So, they end up searching and many do not come back.”

  Blaze lifted her eyes to Matilda. “So, similar to what Skid was mentioning… people just go missing, for no apparent reason. But if there was a sighting that was interrupted for some reason, and it couldn’t abduct the person, then the Sasquatch could somehow have attached itself, or impressed itself upon the person to return time and again?”

  Matilda shrugged. “That’s close enough to what I’m trying to say. I think as far as a logical theory can stretch I would lean more toward utilizing the term infrainfluence, or Infruence?”

  Blaze laughed, but didn’t feel the humor as much as she would’ve liked. She looked out past Matilda, watching the snow fall. “Like casting a mind shadow.” Her voice was low as she recalled her ability to automatically sense predatory tendencies in adults during her past career. She simply knew which adults were off. If she knew she had that skill, why couldn’t a predator evolve enough to cast a magnetic pull upon its victims? It would certainly ensure its survival, and explain why it’d been able to remain so elusive.

  “And the howling?”

  Matilda sighed. “That’s bothering me too. There’s a lot happening at this location that I haven’t run into before. And as much as I hate to admit it, Skid may have a point. Although, before I go into that, the howling is extremely unusual here. There’s an aggression this specific creature has that others haven’t exhibited. Almost an evolved predatory boldness. It’s howling at us to let us know it’s watching.”

  “And what about Skid’s point?” “Well, it’s been a wildly unpopular theory, but Skid asserts that this is a hybrid of the human too, one that evolved differently, and has always been among us. It used to be bolder according to him. There are accounts in Native American lore of the “Old Ones.” Everyone knew to leave them alone. But now,” Matilda stopped talking, lost in thought.