Primitive: A Bones Bonebrake Adventure

Chapter 10

“Let me get this straight,” Slater said. “You think this is a bone from a primitive form of hominid?” Slater asked. She turned it over in her hands, scrutinizing every inch of its length. Nearby, Dave kept the camera rolling.

“That’s what it looks like to me. Of course, it’s the actual bone, not just a fossil, which means it’s not very old.”

“About as old as the ship?” Dave offered.

Slater nodded. “Mister Gambles did mention the theory that the skunk ape is, in fact, a form of human ancestor. Between the footprint and this bone, we should be able to put that theory to the test.” She looked directly into the camera, her jaw set and her gaze hard. “We now have to consider the possibility that the stranded crew sealed their own fate by killing and eating one of the local population of whatever hominid the skunk ape might be.”

Quieted by dark thoughts, the group retraced its steps and waited while Bones searched around until he picked up the trail of the fleeing attacker. He found no clean prints, but more than enough sign to guide them in the proper direction. As they followed the tracks, the dank swamp began to dry up, and eventually gave way to forest.

It was early afternoon when Bones spotted something in the distance. “Somebody lives here.”

Up ahead, in a clearing, stood an old mobile home. A sagging, makeshift covered porch sheltered the front door. A rusted out 1968 Camaro stood on blocks amidst a patch of tall weeds. Behind the trailer, a decrepit outbuilding hugged the tree line where the forest resumed. To the south, a rutted dirt road wended its way into the dense foliage and vanished from sight.

“I wonder who lives here,” Slater whispered.

“I don’t know, but it’s a shame they didn’t restore that Camaro. What a waste.” Bones moved a few steps forward, still scanning the ground. “The tracks end here. Whatever we’re chasing, it must have skirted the clearing.”

“We’ll see if anyone’s home,” Slater said. “They might have seen something.”

“Does anyone have dueling banjos playing in their head right now, or is it just me?” Dave whispered.

Carly giggled. “I’ll bet you’d be good at squealing like a pig.”

Dave raised his middle finger and kept the camera rolling.

Tension cramped Bones’ shoulders as they strode across the intervening space between the tree line and the old mobile home. His eyes flitted about, keeping alert for danger. Slater noticed.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “It’s just a house.”

“I’ve got a feeling that, any second now, some dude in a John Deere had is going to jump out of the woods with a shotgun and start blazing away.”

Slater chuckled but Dave missed a step and Carly’s eyes grew wide.

“I was kidding about the banjos. Do you really think it’s dangerous?” Dave asked.

“Probably not. It’s just that redneckish places like this put me on edge.”

The sagging steps up to the front porch creaked under Bones’ weight, but they supported him. Just as he reached the porch, Slater grabbed him by the arm.

“Let me. I don’t look as intimidating as you.” She winked and slipped past Bones, who backtracked down the steps and moved to stand beside Dave.

Slater knocked, a dull sound in the quiet clearing

No answer.

She knocked again.

“I don’t think anyone’s home.” A note of hopefulness rang in Dave’s voice. “Let’s just keep following the trail.”

“Third time’s a charm.” Slater raised her fist to knock again, but the door flew open and an angry face poked out.

“This is private property. What are you doing here?” The speaker was a white-haired woman no more than five feet tall. Sharp blue eyes gleamed in the midst of a craggy, sun-weathered face.

Slater introduced herself and explained that they were a television crew investigating local legends. If she thought her fringe Hollywood credentials would earn her any points with this woman she was mistaken.

“I don’t know no legends. You need to get on out of here before I call the sheriff.”

“I done called him, Granny.” A familiar figure appeared in the doorway. “He’ll be here any second.” Jack froze when his eyes fell on Slater. “What are you doing here?”

“You know these people, Jack?” The old lady rounded on her grandson, eyes flashing.

“He tried to kill us,” Bones said.

“I didn’t!” Jack took a step back, but his grandmother snatched him up by the hair and hauled him out on the porch with surprising strength.

“Were you messing around with that rifle again? I done told you, it’s for hunting and nothing else. If you can’t be responsible I’m going to take it back from you.” She glanced at Bones. “I’m surprised the big fellow didn’t take it away from you and whoop your butt with it.”

Bones chuckled. He decided he liked this lady.

“Actually, he directed us right into a tiger trap,” Slater said.

Jack held up his hands. “I didn’t know that pit was there. Ow!”

His grandmother gave his hair a twist and then let him go. “You knew. Now go fetch me a switch.” As Jack trudged down the steps and toward the woods, head hung low, she folded her arms and addressed the group. “I hope none of you have any objection to some old-fashioned discipline. The boy ain’t got no mama and someone’s got to teach him to mind.”

“I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve been switched in my life,” Bones said. “Even now I think my grandfather would whip me if I stepped out of line.”

“If you don’t mind my asking,” Slater began, “have you seen anything unusual here?”

“Unusual?”

“Something attacked us in the woods. We followed its trail which led us here. I’m just wondering if you saw who or what did it.”

The old woman shook her head. “Just me and Jack here.”

“The pit we fell into, what’s it for?” Slater asked.

The sound of a car approaching drew their attention and they turned to see a police cruiser rolling slowly up the driveway.

“You’ll have to ask him.” That ended the conversation as she stepped back inside and closed the door.

The car rolled to a stop and Deputy Logan stepped out and closed the door behind him. He pocketed his sunglasses and took a seat on the hood of his car.

“You mind telling me what you’re doing here?”

“We’re doing an investigation,” Slater said, coming down off the steps. “Something attacked us in the park. We followed its tracks which led here.”

“What do you mean by attacked?” Logan’ kept his tone level but something in his eyes suggested alarm, even fear.

“Something was chunking rocks the size of my fist at us,” Bones said. “Any one of them could have killed us.”

“Don’t you mean ‘someone’? There’s not an animal around here that can throw a rock, unless the gators have figured out how to slap them with their tails.”

Slater cocked her head. “Isn’t there?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Logan snapped.

“Deputy,” Bones began, “there’s not a man alive who could throw a rock that big with the velocity those things were flying at our heads.”

“We also found footprints.” Dave piped up.

Slater turned a hard eye on her cameraman, whose face reddened.

“I’m going to have to ask you to turn over anything you collected,” Logan said. “Video, photographs, cameras, cell phones and especially any castings you made of tracks.”

“On whose authority?” Bones resisted the urge to get in the deputy’s face.

“The county sheriff’s department, that’s who.” Logan rested his hand on his sidearm. “Don’t make me arrest you.”

Slater moved between Bones and the deputy. “First of all, you and I both know the law. You don’t have probable cause to confiscate our property. Second, everything is already uploaded to the cloud — photos, video, audio, all of it. Taking our belongings would be a waste of your time and ours, and it would make unwanted publicity for your department.”

Logan’ jaw worked as he stared past Slater at Bones.

“We might as well tell them, Pa.” Jack’s voice broke the tension as the young man slunk out of the woods, trailing a long, thin stick behind him.

“He’s your kid?” Bones asked.

Logan nodded.

“Tell us what?” Slater asked.

“Nothing.” Logan said.

“Just go on and tell them.” Jack’s grandmother called out the front window. “You knew it couldn’t last forever.”

Logan’ shoulders sagged. “I suppose you’re going to find out sooner or later. Turn your camera on and let’s get this over with.” He flashed a rueful grin at Slater, who stared at him with a bemused expression. “You ain’t figured it out yet?”

Slater shook her head.

“The skunk ape is just a myth. We’ve been faking it.”