Aliens 2035

Chapter 2-5

Though darkness was falling, Birgit found the beast’s trail – broken branches and what appeared to be blood, though it didn’t look like any she’d seen in Afghanistan. Something wasn’t right, but what else could it be? From the amount of blood loss it must be mortally wounded and couldn’t last much longer. On the other hand, elk had been known to run over a mile before falling dead from a heart shot.

Birgit grimaced, suddenly sure the animal wasn’t a deer or bear. The scream was more human-like, which made her trailing whatever it was even more dangerous. A human might try to set a trap for its pursuer and it wouldn’t know that she wasn’t the one who shot it.

She followed. Whatever had been shot, it traveled more quietly now. The blood like splatters were farther apart and lighter. It had tried to stem the flow of blood. No animal would do that. Had someone been shot? Had they been a target and now were setting up an ambush for their assailant? She moved more cautiously, slipping from one tree to the next, eyes always roving the area in front of her; ears listening for any man made sound.

The dense woods disappeared ahead. She crouched and slithered behind an old maple tree at the edge of a clearing. She saw the wounded creature for the first time. It was huge, as tall as a grizzly bear standing on it back legs. In the fading daylight it was hard to tell its color even as close as she was. It lay prone on its back. Blood appeared to be seeping from two wounds in its massive chest.

Voices caught her attention and she looked past the clearing to a service road. A man, large bow in hand, a boy and a dog were running down the rutted path. They disappeared around a bend. Moments later an engine roared to life and she heard the vehicle drive away.

She stood and approached the beast. She realized, looking into the man-like face and shuddering, it wasn’t a bear but Bigfoot. A dead Bigfoot. “Jesus, they do exist,” she said aloud in an awed whisper.

How long she stared, she didn’t know. After a few moments she became aware of the gaping hole in its chest. That’s a bullet hole, her mind told her. She’d seen enough of them in Afghanistan to know the difference. The man and the kid carried bows, not rifles. They’re not the shooters. Then her attention finally focused on the wound itself and the stuff oozing out. Her mind came to the conclusion it wasn't blood. Just as she squatted down to collect some of the odd ooze and flesh in one of her sample bags, the soft ppffting noise came from a thicket behind her and she heard a bullet smack into an oak tree on the other side of the clearing. Reflexes took over and she rolled over the beast. Another round hit its flesh with a sickening thud.

Someone’s trying to kill me … will kill me if I don’t do something.

Birgit’s combat training came back as if she had never lost a day in the army. She slithered her gun across the Sasquatch’s body and laid down suppression fire in the direction of the sniper. She scuttled ten yards into the tree line. She leveled another burst of fire, using all but two of the bullets in the fifteen round clip. She took off running a zigzag pattern through the woods. Leaves slapped her face. She ignored them, concentrating on stepping high so as not to trip on roots and brambles.

Birgit didn’t stop to think which direction, but instinct took her deep into the forest in a wide circle toward the stream she had been sampling. Five minutes later she burst out of the trees onto its rocky bank. Her backpack was right where she left it. Scooping it up while still running, she headed upstream. Even in the dark, she knew exactly the pattern of all the tributaries that fed into Owl Lake. Moving quickly up the stream, she headed toward a confluence of multiple forks that would confuse any pursuer. No one would be able to follow her in this wilderness.

Several minutes later she stopped to rest and listen. Adrenaline was wearing off, relief she was still alive flooded her. Strangely, her breathing was steady and her heart rate was surprisingly regular. There’s nothing like a real life and death situation to shove PTSD out of your thoughts. She was relieved by her response to real danger. What now?

She settled against a tree trunk, making her six-foot tall frame as inconspicuous as possible in the dark. Her jacket was dark and her wool cap covered her blond hair. The woods were quiet except for the normal sounds of animal and insect life. After several minutes with no indication of pursuit, she felt safe for the first time in an hour. It was then she realized she was still clutching that pus covered piece of the green shaded skin-like hide of the Sasquatch. It seemed to be breaking down into simple biological material right before her eyes. In all her years studying microbiology, she had never seen anything deteriorate this fast. It’s almost as if it were programmed to decompose when dead. She hurriedly reached into her backpack for a sampling bag. It was the only way she could prove to others what she saw before it disappeared completely. Sealing the collection bag seemed to be slowing the biochemical breakdown. She had never seen anything like this – skin that appeared to be more like plant matter instead of the epidermis and dermis of an animal. She gave the bag a final look and stuffed it alongside her mud puppy samples in her backpack. Maybe this will provide some answers back in the lab.

Of course it didn’t answer any of her more pressing questions. Who had killed the Bigfoot and why had they tried to kill her? And what the f**k was going on?