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

  Tripping on the wheel of the cart Blaze urged her to hurry in a rugged whisper. Instead, the girl retrieved the phone next to her register and called for assistance. The market noises retreated until Blaze could only hear her own breathing, and the hammering of her heart as she anticipated the next assault. The electrical current that followed ravaged her until she could barely stand upright. A young man in a white shirt and black pants spoke to her, as if in slow motion, handing Blaze back her card, and walking out of the store next to her. Outside, with her fingers white from gripping the cart through her pain, two patrol cars pulled up. Uniformed officers stepped out and the young man standing next to Blaze backed away.

  Falling forward, she tried to speak, to assure the officers she was in need of assistance, and not a drug addict. Another lightning strike bolted across her face and Blaze pitched forward, holding the edge of the cart and falling to her knees. The cart tipped with her, and as she held her face she watched her green apples roll across black asphalt of the parking lot. Vaguely aware of being lifted, Blaze was placed in an ambulance. The pain formed into jagged lightning bolts that danced across her face, teeth and eye until she begged for mercy, clinging to the sleeve of the EMT seated next to her.

  Mercifully, she slipped into a dark shroud, retreating into a medically induced sleep.

  ~*~ She woke under a fluorescent light. The pain was still present, although somewhat diminished enough that she could think, and recall the events that had led her to Mercy Hospital.

  Tuning her head carefully to the left she spotted Pat, asleep in the chair next to her, and his wife Marie, on the other side. Marie opened one eye, smiling as she sat upright. She laid her hand on Blaze’s arm.

  “Are you doing alright?”

  Blaze felt the sting of hot tears behind her eyes and squeezed them shut, fighting the emotional turbulence. Her throat was dry, and she accepted a sip of water.

  “I’m better. How’d you two end up here?”

  Blaze glanced at Pat. His disheveled hair and scruffy whiskers indicated they had been at the hospital with her all night.

  “Hush, don’t cry. You are alright now.” Marie soothed her while fussing with Blaze’s blanket. Leaning over her she smiled warmly.

  “They called us. Pat is your emergency contact, remember?”

  Blaze breathed in deeply, shaking her head. “Not anymore…I don’t work there. I’m so sorry Marie.” Marie pushed an unruly dark curl from Blaze’s forehead. Smiling she winked. “Sometimes family doesn’t share the same DNA. That is fine with us. We would have come even if they hadn’t contacted Pat.”

  “I think they thought I was a druggie. I’m sure I behaved like one.” Blaze sat up, cognizant of the dull throb that remained on the right side of her face. Blinking, she slowly moved her jaw, pressing her hand carefully against her face. It felt hot where the Neuralgia had resided.

  “What brought on the attack?” Marie seated herself closely to Blaze, holding her arm.

  Shaking her head Blaze dropped her head back against the pillow. “I don’t know. The sun, the produce aisle. I never know, unless it happens right after a nightmare or increased anxiety.”

  Marie smiled. “Like grocery shopping in a crowded store?” Blaze offered a weak smile. “I hope I don’t have to spend my life having meltdowns in the grocery store. That was some intense breakthrough pain.” Blaze’s voice was groggy.

  “Ah, you’re awake. How we doing?”

  Blaze’s physician stood next to her bed, scanning a clip board.

  “I think I need to get the letters TN tattooed onto my forehead so people will know what’s wrong.”

  Her doctor smirked. “Wouldn’t help. People don’t know what it is. To them you are just that crazy lady who spilled her prescription pills all over the parking lot.”

  Blaze lifted her head, eyes wide. “What?” Marie nodded, frowning at the doctor. “You were trying to medicate yourself and it must have been too much. You didn’t even get a pill into your mouth. They said you spilled them in the parking lot.”

  Blaze closed her eyes a moment. She could only remember the apples. “Isn’t there some way to alert the paramedics to what I have? I think the EMT just knocked me out to get me to quit screaming.”

  Her doctor looked up. “You mean like a bracelet or tattoo that says Trigeminal Neuralgia?”

  He chuckled and Blaze wished she could throw her water at him. She knew he wasn’t trying to be obtuse but following an attack she was always more protective of her condition.

  “They called Pat and he told them what you have.”

  Marie waved her hand toward her sleeping husband and leaned back.

  “Well, the good news is you can go home.” Her physician smiled up and replaced the clipboard.

  “The bad news is you are going to have to change medications. The Gabapentin is not controlling your pain like we’d hoped.”

  Sighing, Blaze nodded. “Now what? I’ve already quiet my job, now I have to adjust to new meds?” Leaning in to listen to her heart her doctor nodded. “Afraid so. This disease is a tough one. It can become stronger at times. When it does we have to respond. We’ll try Oxcarbazepin. It may be the better choice in your situation. It’s an antiseizure medication too, but hopefully you will respond well to it, and we can control the pain. I’m also giving you a prescription for Citalopram.”

  Blaze pushed her hair back from her face. “What is that for?”

  Her doctor looked up, a note of seriousness in his voice. “It’s for depression.” Frowning Blaze sat up. “I am not depressed.”

  Her physician nodded, approaching her side. “This is a very difficult disease Blaze. It is called the Suicide Disease because people often feel they can’t keep fighting it. The pain wears them down. This will offset that. It’s important.”

  Blaze nodded mutely.

  “Should I still work?”

  He shrugged. “As we have discussed, you cannot continue in social work. It aggravates your condition.”

  Blaze raised her eyebrows. “But..?” He narrowed his eyes. “You can try working. It won’t be easy. You may have to apply for disability at some point. Just steer clear of any form of social work. Got it?”

  Marie put a protective arm around Blaze. “We will help. She has an interview coming up with an Anthropologist. That’s about as far from social work as she can get.”

  Blaze locked eyes with her doctor. “I have to try.”

  Nodding, he patted her arm. “I will get your discharge paper work going. See you in my office in a couple days.”

  Blaze rested her head against Marie and sighed. Pat snored and woke himself, causing them both to laugh.

  Sitting upright with his hair standing on end he looked around and rubbed his eyes.

  “What’d I miss?” “No, we aren't civilized, even in our business suits and high heels. People are as mean as ever, and as predictable. Underneath it all, we are not so different from what lurks in the wild, perhaps we're worse.”

  ― Donna Lynn Hope

  ~Three~

  Sitting in the auditorium, lights lowered, Blaze observed Matilda Bough, a selfmade individualist who’d made her mark in the field of Anthropology focusing upon what one newspaper had termed, “The find of the century.”

  Sighing, Blaze contemplated who the woman behind the placid smile was as she examined a black and white photo portraying Matilda as she stood next to a sculptured Bigfoot exhibit towering over her.

  A one word inscription leapt out from the brass plate at the base of the sculpture.

  Sasquatch. Hoping that was not the topic Matilda would lead their interview with Blaze folded her program and wondered how many individuals in this very auditorium would give up an appendage to work for Matilda Bough? Several, she assumed. On a wave of uncertainty she wondered what exactly they would discuss during the interview that would follow Matilda’s presentation.

  They came from opposite worlds.

  Speaking at the local university, Matild
a had drawn a large audience. Standing room soon became the only option for those entering late, or even just prior to her

  introduction. Placed in a stacked half circle formation the auditorium seats in dark blue were stark backdrops to a riot of colors worn by those already seated. A bearded young man with a penetrative gaze stepped center stage and adjusted the microphone.

  He held his hands up as if to stay the teeming mass of scholars, undergrads and public registrants. Their anticipation was palpable. Hushed, they waited as the lights dimmed.

  He turned to his left, drawing attention to a small woman standing with her hands clasped tightly over a coarse beige jacket. Her light wispy hair had partially escaped a bun and hung around her face, wisps moving restlessly with each breath she took.

  The auditorium broke out in applause. Over the commotion the young man spoke loudly, raising a fist in the air victoriously.

  “She needs no introduction, and she has requested I not waste time on one.” Appreciative laughter rose and fell in scattered sections.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, Matilda Bough.” The auditorium erupted, vibrating with the disorderly applause one would expect to see at a rock concert. Jumping to their feet, students and scholars alike clapped, whistled and shouted the name of the lecturing speaker. Giving a tiny wave she waited until they took their seats. Upon a staccato tide of squeaking seats a frenzy of note pads and pens emerged from back packs and briefcases. Poised at the edge of their seats, hundreds waited as Matilda tried to pull the mic close. Her exhale flooded the speakers and filled the auditorium. Turning, she spotted and dragged a metal stool to center stage, letting the legs grate loudly against tile. Once seated she cleared her throat and leaned in to the mic, spilling papers from her lap and onto the stage floor.

  The woman next to Blaze shook her head in adoration. “She’s a genius you know.” Her whispered awe floated toward Blaze on a cough drop scented gush. Blaze nodded, as if knowledgably agreeing. It was evident she drew a host of individuals to her speaking engagements. Glancing subtly around the room, Blaze covertly profiled the admirers of Matilda’s work. A tweed jacket and t-shirt crowd had grown out their hair. Blaze grinned softly. Probably not because they were rebelling, but because they were genuinely too invested in their scholarly pursuits.

  A contingent of muted ties dotted necks of professors, writers and academics. Elegantly restrained individuals in muted earth tones and cable knits, cat like in their mindful attempt to individuate, nursed from brand name water bottles, studiously avoiding those around them. Even those who accompanied them. Eccentrics with money and time.

  Beanies, infinity scarves and skinny jeans, uniform of the upper middle class students; they fashionably announced their pursuit of the future. Their fingerless mittens buffered the sting of conserving a tree by forgoing coffee sleeves for their Starbuck’s cups.

  More interesting than the cliché and random groupings were the piercing eyes of individuals who had likely driven long distances to attend. These were the individuals Blaze speculated had personal experience with the topic at hand. In clothing ranging from the Wal Mart rack, to golfing polo's and khakis, these independents wanted answers and were not going to be afraid to speak out about their experiences. Blaze looked forward to seeing how Matilda would handle their barrage of questions.

  “Hello, I am Matilda Bough.” Blaze turned her attention back to the large stage. The woman next to her clenched her fists and bounced them up and down on her lap, squealing softly to herself with rapt glee.

  Blaze rolled her eyes. Nerds were annoying.

  “I am happy that you have all made it here today.” Matilda’s voice was somewhat throaty, and barley concealed the whisper that rode just under the surface. Her accent was unexpected too. Glancing down at her program Blaze raised her eyebrows. She hadn’t realized Matilda was from New Zealand.

  Sorting through the notes on her lap, in no apparent hurry, Matilda brought herself closer to the mic.

  A large screen lit up behind her. Hulking outlines of a primate and several smaller early human like shapes leapt out in black and white. Leaning forward she cleared her throat. She sounded as though she were reading a script, but Blaze watched with discernment. Matilda spoke without notes, her topic and material well recorded in her own mind.

  Impressive.

  “Fossil records indicate that Gigantopithicus Blacki were the largest primates to ever live upon the earth. They are believed to have stood up to ten feet, possibly weighing as much as 1,190 pounds. More recently, Anthropologists and Primetologists have shown increased interest regarding this species due in part to its increased brain size, which may to date be the largest in the terrestrial animal kingdom.” She paused and changed the screen to an illustration of primate brain sizes.

  “Also of interest is the possibility that Gigantopthecus may have been bi-pedal. That would certainly have assisted in the species dispersion across both Asia and North America. Of note, both Asia and North America have the highest record of sightings; all of whom have reported remarkably similar seven to ten foot tall bipedals.”

  The screen changed to a map of the world highlighting Asia and North America. “Thousands of years of adaptation to colder climates following that possible dispersion into Asia and North America would also have allowed for Gigantopithecus to not only survive, but eventually thrive both the extremes of high altitude mountain ranges and deep snow fall. While the most commonly accepted explanation of Gigantopithecus’ possible extinction is the belief that Homo Erectus may have hunted and utilized Giganto as a food source, many intellectuals insist that a creature with the potential to display an escalated intelligence based upon brain size and bi-pedal mobility, would have affectively learned to adapt and react to the systematic hunting by homo erectus, to perpetuate continuation of the genetic line. In the event that Giganto remained mobile, spreading out to ensure plentiful foraging, territories may have been established. In fact, establishing territory may have been responsible for quick and quiet evacuations based upon the need to avoid contact with Homo Erectus. In spreading themselves out Gigantopithecus Blacki would have been assured sustainable food sources necessary to increase their likelihood of survival. The territories they may have established would have been very remote- purposefully. However, those differing territories would also have ensured an evolved creature, capable of adapting to environments based upon geographic location. The varied environments they may have found themselves in, combined with isolation over thousands of generations, may have produced an avoidant species which evolved to adapt an ability to evade human interaction. Entirely.”

  The audience murmured.

  Matilda switched to a photo of a footprint in mud near a large boulder. “Developments such as evolved defensive mechanisms, as well as night vision, would have also assisted Gigantopithecus’ in limiting its interaction with mankind. This species may have developed powerful vocal cords for communications over long distances, which could have been adapted as an early alert system in altitudes where sound would not have carried. The most elegant theory however, is that if Gigantopithecus indeed survived evolution, the species may have acquired an intelligence beyond what our scientific community currently perceives. In the event Gigantopithecus was not hunted to extinction by Homo Erectus, which is only an educated theory, one must entertain too then the theory that Giganto would have had to be intelligent enough to not merely identify the evolving humans as a threat, but to attain and hold onto the development of a sixth sense as a response to that threat. Having a uniquely evolved ability to avoid human contact could very well be one reason Bigfoot has not yet been classified as a descendant of Giganto. The Sasquatch must first be located to prove such a lineage. For centuries we have studied and deliberated about the instincts animals demonstrate to protect themselves. We ourselves have developed a unique sense. For instance, we have all at one point felt that we were being watched, only to turn and find someone staring, perhaps trying to remember where they had see
n us before.

  However, we live in a world where humans are for the most part inundated with schedules, electronics, magnetic fields and cellular phones. Internet is accessible for acquisition of knowledge and communication. But, what if we lived in remote groupings? What if we once again were forced to know our neighbors for the sake of survival, and support? Have we perhaps lost something in the acquisition of technical advances?

  And what sixth sense indicators would provide animals with an advantage over us? To answer these questions we must acknowledge the obvious research scientists have recently completed. Owners of pets seem to agree that at times their animals appear to be spooked by nothing. However, new information indicates animals are capable of perceiving ultra violet vision, allowing them to observe more than our own narrow vision field can. This ability, to see in UV allows for sharpened night time vision. Reindeer for example have UV vision, which helps them detect predatory polar bears from long distances.

  Another example, based upon studies from the Tsunami in 2004 revealed that animals from the Patanangala Beach inside Yala National Park moved to higher altitudes just prior to the arrival of the devastating tsunami. They utilized a primitive survival instinct.

  Further, the very emission of negative energy, often generated by fear, has been proven scientifically to draw predators to us. Many of our grandparents used the term “Smelling fear” in reference to animals we may have been nervous around. In kind, those animals often react negatively to the scent of our fear. A cycle that perpetuates itself and creates danger at times.

  So, in knowing we cannot arrogantly establish time lines and hypotheses regarding millions of years ago, since we all know science has been wrong before, and has admitted it, we must as a society embrace our curiosity and willingness to admit that there may be more out there than meets the eye.”

  Matilda rearranged her papers, tucking a strand of hair back. “And where did Gigantopithecus go? Based upon its sheer size it is difficult to imagine it being hunted to extinction, although the theories of early humans driving animals to extinction are not new. Again, I remain solidly committed to admitting I have nothing I can claim as an absolute, other than my curious drive to connect the dots.