Taking Down the Alpha King

Alive

I NEEDED TO check Dad’s office. There was a map he kept there pinned to the wall. Behind his desk, he had labeled all the campsites and locations where people kept disappearing. From what I could remember, there were three prime places he had narrowed it down to.

The office was busy with people rushing in and out. The cabin they lovingly referred to as “Headquarters” was out in the open between two major trails. I parked between the other SUVs, leaving Finn in the Jeep. Slipping in, I managed to walk around the partition that kept Dad’s desk separate. Snapping a picture with my phone of the three red circles that he had crudely scratched, I read his ideas scribbled along the edges of the map. “Bingo,” I muttered, giving the picture a quick once over.

Looking through his desk, I found the spare set of keys that he kept for the gates around the parks’ perimeters. I didn’t know if I would have to use them, but I had a gut feeling that they would come in handy.

Holding my phone securely in my hand, I scrambled out of the building. No one paid attention to much of anything that I ever did, since Dad and I were nearly inseparable. These people here saw me more than they saw him, so it wasn’t anything for me to hop in the office, pick something up for my dad, and hop right back out. I was banking on that being the case today, too. And it was. Without so much as a word of welcome, I was in and out in a matter of minutes.

Swinging myself back into my seat, I studied the screen. Squinting my eyes, I tried to determine which spot to visit first. I needed to hit all three locations today. There had to be something at one of the spots that would lend a couple clues.

My dad had a very methodical way of treating his routes. He said it used fewer bits of brain power that way, so he could use the other half of his brain on things he wanted to do that required creativity. Using his methodology, I headed up to the first place marked that was closest to me. It would take some time because of all the snow, the only things getting through that area before me were 30,000-pound trucks with dual wheels.

Or sled dogs.

But those were getting rare to see these days down here. More tourists did it than teams.

But, anyways.

Finn and I got out at the first campsite, doing light trail walking through the snow. I had fortunately left snowshoes in the back of the Jeep, thanking God for them now as I sunk into the drifts. Finn basically lived in his booties in the winter, his paws padding gently beside me while he found innumerable things to sniff and lick. I had worried that the powder would be too thin, making it hard for Finn to keep up with me; but he didn’t seem to have any problems.

We tromped through the usual places, only veering off course once or twice to check certain things that felt out of place, like a broken tree limb, or anything that looked like it had been disturbed recently. The fresh covering of snow wasn’t doing us many favors, making it harder to trace things that would normally be easy to spot, like boot prints. Dad had been teaching me since I was scout age what to look for. I knew most of the major paw prints for our area, what foliage lived naturally in what areas, and how to spot concerning wildlife behaviors.

All of that was part of ranger training, anyways, and since I wanted to be one, just like Dad, he thought it best to get a head start on some skills that he said needed to come instinctively. The more you practiced, the more naturally it came.

Since we hadn’t lived in this area for very long, only since Mom died, parts of the information were still pretty new. Different regions, different animals and all that.

Coming up with nothing, we slowly made our way back to the Jeep and drove further down the peninsula, hitting spot number two. There were actual humans at this place, staying in the cabins and others in tents. There were plow lines and piles of snow stacked high on both sides of the road, making the parking lot the perfect place to suit up to head back into the tree lines. I didn’t want to drive the trails here if I could help it.

“Hey!” A lady on the front of her porch shouted. “You here about the Wi-Fi?”

I looked around, seeing if there were stickers on my Jeep that would allude to me being with the local service. Throwing her a look that I hoped would shut her up, I sarcastically yelled, “Nope.” A quick wave of my hand told her I was finished talking. Turning on my heel, I let Finn down from his seat.

“Well, when are they gonna be here?” She asked, her voice louder than before, attitude filtering her words.

Trying to temp my annoyance, I swiveled back to look at her. “Lady, do I look like I would be the person with that information?” I motioned to the snowsuit that only covered half of my sweatshirt. “I don’t know anything. Sorry.” Stalking away, I heard her cursing under her breath.

“This place is going to get three stars from me, sir! Let’s see how many visitors you get after I tell people the truth!”

I could feel my fists clenching at my sides, my jaw setting as her words grated against my temper. I looked down at my clothes, wondering how in the world she could take someone in thermal jeans and a sweatshirt as a technician?! Even up here people wore uniforms. She was off her rocker. A freaking Karen.

“Come on, Finn,” I ground through my teeth. We trudged through the landscape, the wind whipping at my face. Checking the ropes, the fences, and anywhere that Dad might have touched, the nagging feeling that we were in the wrong place yet again kept surfacing. I couldn’t help but be disappointed. Another failure.

The sun was lowering already, telling me I only had a few hours left until sundown. “Shoot,” I said, hurrying Finn along the line. “We’re gonna run out of day light. It’s almost two!” I hadn’t done enough for the sun to decide to set. Winters here were tricky. During January, we were lucky for any sun we got. Today the sun rose at 10 a.m., and would set again at 4 p.m. Anything outside of those hours was done in the pitch. You were used to it if you lived here your whole life, but for many of the tourists it had this…grumpy affect. They would complain of how short the day was, like the people that lived here could help the rotation of the earth.

It was ridiculous.

Especially when they harassed any of my friends at school that had darker skin than me. They would say crazy stuff, like, “Can’t you do a dance that makes the sun rise? Isn’t that like an observed thing in your culture?” It would get you so hot, you’d want to punch them over the top of their ten-dollar hot chocolate. Like, read a book dude. You have the internet. Educate yourself. “That’s probably why that Karen back there was so mad,” I chuckled to myself, ruffling the fur around Finn’s neck.

I loaded Finn back into his seat with a snack, and rolled us out to the road.

I picked up time on the interstate, the big rigs keeping the road hot and clear for me. It looked like another bout of snow would drop at any second, making me thankful for the chains I had in the back trunk. It would slow me down, but at least I wouldn’t be careening off the side of the mountain I was trekking.

We made it to the third part of the Pen, pulling off onto the side road so I could get behind the gate. I checked the clock. 3:17 p.m. Dang it.

I cranked the iron bars open. This was part of the park they kept closed to tourists during the winter, but it had access to the main

grounds. It was also the entrance my dad used religiously. He could see the whole park from this side, and generally took his truck with him onto all the trails here.

Creaking under the weight of the snow, the gate dug into the packed white ground. Wrenching the latch, I pushed with everything I had to get it come open. “Gosh, that’s rough.” I was panting, it only wanting to move inch by inch, protesting with every powerful shove I threw at it.

Wiping my gloved hands on my jacket, I got in my jeep long enough to drive through the hole I made, careful to close the gate back before continuing.

Focusing on my task list, I was trying not to panic. So far, none of my informed guesses were holding up against my dad’s whereabouts, and I was running out of time. If I didn’t find something here, I was back to the “square-one-of-square-ones,” and that wasn’t an option. I was huffing, pounding my fists on the wheel as I ground out the next hundred yards through the snow.

Finn was whining next to me, picking up on my mood. “I’m fine, boy. Don’t you worry. We’re bound to see something up this way.”

Suiting up, we headed to the first trail entry. We had made it around the first corner when the eerie feeling we were being watched hit me. My hair was standing on edge, my gut twisting as the energy around me darkened. The silence was deafening. Goosebumps rising on my skin. It was unnerving.

“Keep close, boy.” I whispered down to Finn. “Something’s not right.” What was strange was that I didn’t hear anything. I didn’t hear birds, or any movement in the trees. Even in winter, there was still something poking about, even with most of the bigger mammals hibernating. My eyes were darting around, looking between the trees for something to give me a clue as to why the world here had decided to quiet. I winced every time my shoe made a crunch on the snow, dreading the thought of something finding us because of how loud my steps were. What animals were still awake that could make a snack out of me and Finn?

That’s when I heard it. A quick snap in the brush. My body started reacting before my mind. Standing stock-still, I listened, trying my best to gauge what had moved and from where.

After waiting for several moments and nothing presenting, I followed Finn further down the pathway. “Keep close,” I nodded to Finn.

Groaning, I realized we were out of time. We couldn’t be out here after dark with all our defenses left in my trunk. “Let’s head ba—” That was the moment when Finn decided to take off.

Racing ahead, I watched as Finn’s nose led him down a steep embankment to our left. “Finn!” I ran after him, hoping that he wasn’t on the hunt for something dangerous.

He forged through a cut of brush, his body shaking with excitement as he bounded in front of my dad’s green truck.

Stopping dead in my tracks, I took in the wreck of the scene. Snow was piled on top of it, letting me know that it had sat here most of the night, the bluster of the breeze wrapping around it, blanketing thick piles against its sides. Finn was barking at the driver’s side, his tail wagging a million miles an hour.

“What’d you find, boy?” I was whispering, carefully placing my steps down the hill, balancing my weight against my snowshoes. He was licking at something; I could hear him before I stepped around the vehicle.

What was before me filled me with dread; a sickness I can’t describe.

There was blood covering the frame of the car, the door still hanging wide open. My knees were banging into my chest as I tried to run faster to see. “Stop, Finn!” I could hear myself scream. The cabin was empty, but the pools of blood that had stained the snow veered away from the car, and up to the tree line.

“He found them, Finn.” My voice was thick. “He was right, and they got him for it.” I pulled my phone out of my pocket, dialing the number for the station. I had to tell Kim right away, so they could get a team down here, if not tonight, in the morning.

I was fumbling with my phone in my gloves, barely getting the numbers typed when I heard Finn howl in pain. “Boy?”

It was in an instant.

I had whirled around, his noise of pain drawing all my attention, and that’s when I saw them. They had surrounded us, about half a dozen of them. Their teeth were snapping at us, barred to show fangs larger than any I’d ever seen. They were men, taller, and bigger than any of the tribesmen here, and their eyes were trained on me.

Dropping the phone, my brain couldn’t figure out what to do. As soon as I found my feet and was trying to tell them to run, it was over. They had caught me in their grasp, and were dragging me back, back into the black of the woods.

“LET ME GO!” I was shrieking, yanking against them, but their hold was so strong they didn’t even flinch. I hurled my body, trying to use my legs to kick, but it was to no avail.

“What do we do with him?” The man holding my left arm snarled. His face was disfigured, the bone around his forehead protruding over the rest of his face. His body was huge, the muscles he sported on his chest evident through his shirt. His eyes narrowed, the craziest color staring at me.

“What the—” Who had eyes that color?? They were blood red.

I looked to the man on my right, the hair that covered his body rubbing against my sleeve. He was shirtless, only wearing pants and a belt. I was struggling to understand how he could be out here surviving with what he had on. Last I had checked, it was 18°, and it was gonna storm again any minute. What was he thinking? What were any of these people thinking?

“Knock him out.” The man behind us barked, handing over a vial of blue liquid. The shirtless monster that stood to my right grabbed it, my eyes widening as I saw claws instead of hands.

“What are you doing?” I was asking, scared as I saw him rip the end of the contraption off, revealing a needle.

“Taking you to our leader,” he spat, ripping the shoulder of my jacket open. “Hold still. You won’t feel anything…if you listen.”

“NO,” I panicked. “Please, whatever is in that, I promise I won’t talk, wherever we’re going. Don’t—”

“Shut up,” the other man hissed, his grip on my arm tightening. “You’re lucky you’re alive.”