Читать книгу The Cabin at the End of Herrick Road - Derek Wachter - Страница 6

Chapter 1

Dr. Craig Irving

An old rickety camper trailer pulled into a gas station along Highway 101 in Port Angeles, Washington. Highway 101 is a western coastal highway that usually gets more rain than any other weather during this time in the year. Today though was an unusually warm day in the month of March in the northwestern corner of Washington state, just above the Olympic Mountain Range. It nearly reached fifty degrees this day. The trailer that rattled as it pulled up to a gas pump came to an abrupt stop as the driver put his foot down on the brake, screeching the brakes to an abrupt stop. A white, middle-aged man, slightly husky in stature, with long brown hair and a beard to match, jumped out of the driver’s side door of the five-wheel trailer. The man walked around the corner of the front of the trailer and toward the gas station one-stop shop center. The locals saw the man approaching the station through the gas pumps from their bar seating area by the front window in the gas shop, where they had their morning coffee every morning together for the past twenty years into their retirement.

“Christ Almighty. Here comes that scientist guy for the dozenth time. What the hell was his name again?” said one man to the other three.

“Oh, shit…what was his name? Jim, do you remember?” said one of the men.

Jim thought for a moment, holding his cup of hot coffee with both hands grasped around the cup. “Irving I think it was. Craig Irving.”

“Craig! Yes, that’s it. That crazy lunatic son of a bitch. Wonder where he’s going to camp out at this weekend.” said one of the men.

“Well, Mark, last weekend his dumbass went down the 101 to Colville,” said Jim.

“Reckon he may go south this time, Forks maybe? He comes from the east there. I think all the way from that school in Olympia.”

At that moment, Craig Irving walked into the gas station. The men stopped their chatter and went silent as he walked by their sitting area. Craig walked up to the counter and up to the attendant. Craig looked around the convenience store before speaking with the attendant. Shopping around, Craig picked up some snacks for himself and his pet dog, Max. After he had a look around the small convenience store, Craig walked up to the cashier behind the register.

“Forty dollars on pump 2 please,” said Craig. “As well as these dog treats and sticks of jerky.”

The attendant took a fifty-dollar bill from Craig and ran up forty dollars’ worth of gas for pump 2.

“Do you want the change?” asked the store clerk.

“No, what’s left just put it into the gas please,” said Craig.

“All right,” said the store clerk.

Craig finished his transaction and turned to walk out of the store when he heard a familiar voice come from the right side of the store, near the seating area.

“Dr. Craig Irving,” said Mark from the bar seating area by the front window.

Craig turned to look who was calling his name. Seeing the group of men by the window, Craig walked over to them.

“Mark Ellis,” said Craig. “Mark, Jim, Ed, and Paul.” As he pointed out each man sitting at the window with their cups of coffee.

“Any luck in your searches yet, Craig?” asked Jim.

“No, sir, nothing yet. All I’ve been able to do is cast a couple footprints of the creatures, and even those didn’t turn out too well. Haven’t even found a tuft of hair yet,” replied Craig.

“Did ya ever stop to think that maybe it’s because there’s not a god damn thing out there?” said Paul as the group of men laughed.

Craig let out a chuckle. “No, I don’t choose to believe that, Paul. If I believed that then I wouldn’t be doing my science its proper due diligence,” replied Craig.

“Well, where are ya headed to today?” asked Ed. “Ain’t gonna get stuck in the mud along the creek like you did last time, will ya?”

“No, that won’t happen again. Well, today I figured I’ll head south down to Elwha. Maybe camp out and have a look around the Elwha River area. More toward the Olympics and away from the town,” said Craig.

The group of men laughed again.

“I found some unique online experiences along the Elwha River. Testimonies from witnesses. It garners an effort to go at least check it out,” said Craig.

The men stopped laughing. “On the what?” said Jim.

“Online. The Internet,” said Craig.

The men looked perplexed.

“Gentlemen, the Internet,” said Craig.

The men continued to look perplexed as they stared at Craig.

“What the hell’s that? Enter where?” asked one man.

“Never mind,” said Craig as he turned to walk away. “I need to get going and set up while I’ve got daylight. You, gentlemen, have a good day. We’ll see you next time. Enjoy your coffees.”

“Oh, we will. Have fun with your enter something. And have fun huntin’ your ghosts!” said Ed.

The men burst out in loud laughter again as Craig walked out of the one-stop shop gas station. Craig was very used to the ridicule that he endured for the research that he’d been doing for the last two years. A well-known biologist from South Puget Sound Community College, Craig has taught biology for years there, shortly after he had graduated with a 4.0 in biology from the University of Washington and graduating from Oregon State University with his graduate degrees in biology. It wasn’t until recently when Craig had taken up a new research interest that involved a cryptic beast known to locals as the Sasquatch. Although locals found such a thing to be more legend and myth than actual beast and monster living in the mountains of the Pacific Northwest. Craig in his mind and his thoughts neither confirmed nor denied the existence of the creature, but in his heart he had a feeling that such a creature could possibly exist on account of how deep the forest of the Pacific Northwest was. There was a chance for creatures like this to be able to hide deep in the darkest places of the unexplored forests—undetected by human societies. And if it truly did, it could be the greatest scientific discovery ever made to present day.

Craig walked back to the trailer and inserted the pump nozzle into his gas tank and started the gas pump. After starting the gas pumping into his gas tank, Craig opened the side door to his trailer and out jumped an energetic young border collie. Beautiful color of black and white. The dog ran around his legs and jumped right back into the trailer. Craig opened the package of treats and fed one to the dog. The dog graciously took the treat and ran to the back of the trailer with it, jumping on the bed that was in the back of the trail where he began chewing on his treat. Craig shut the door and rolled up the dog treat package and stuffed it into the front pocket of his jeans.

“What a beautiful day here in the Pacific Northwest,” said Craig to himself. The temperatures were cool, and the sun was out—not a cloud in the sky. It was gorgeous summer weather for this area of the state. The gas finished pumping at exactly 43.27 dollars. Craig went into the trailer to check the fuel level before driving off and saw that it was nearly to the full mark on his dashboard. He had guessed this was close enough for where he was going. Plus, Elwha had a gas station, even though the gas there was nearly double as expensive as it was in Port Angeles. In a pinch though, he knew he could get gas there to get back to Port Angeles. He would have enough fuel for where he was going today, long enough for his weekend search. Craig took the dog treats from his pant pocket and set them on the dash of his trailer. In his other pocket, Craig took the beef jerky and stored it in the glove compartment in the dash. He took one piece of beer jerky and stuffed it in his mouth. Craig started up the trailer and pulled out of the gas station, looking back to see a couple of the old men giving him the middle finger from the inside of the gas station as he drove out. He could see clearly in the rearview mirror that the old men were still laughing at him too.

*****

The radio in the trailer was old, an old hand-dial radio, yet somehow still worked as good as an old hand-dial radio could work. Under the radio was a forty-channel intercom receiver, along with a corded microphone for Craig. He had used it before and it came in very handy, especially when you’re up in the mountains and something happens where you need to call out for help. Craig drove down the Highway 101, until he reached the small town of Elwha, Washington. Elwha was a small town—an unincorporated community along Highway 101. Once there, Craig turned off onto Herrick Road, the only road that ran right through the heart of Elwha. Craig followed Herrick Road until it ended. Near the end of the road, Craig found a small gravel dirt road, nearly overgrown by bushes that led down toward the Elwha River. It seemed Craig spent more time on these type of dirt roads driving down to the river than he has driving on paved known roads these days. The road was old, very unkempt, and filled with large bumps and holes left over from rainwater eroding the road away over the course of time. After what seemed like an eternity of driving on this road, Craig reached his destination—the riverfront of the Elwha River. Craig came into a nice clearing where he could park his trailer along the riverfront and begin his research. Craig parked the trailer about forty feet away from the river and got out. The silence in the area was eerie yet peaceful and relaxing to Craig. Coming from the bigger city of Olympia, Craig was used to the sounds of car traffic, alarms and sirens, electronic devices. Out here though, there is none of that. Perhaps that’s why Craig really enjoys doing this so much. Craig walked around the trailer and to the side door. When Craig opened the door to his camper, Max shot out like a cannon. Max ran around the area and made at least a dozen laps around the trailer, dispersing energy that had collected while he had been kept in the trailer for the past few hours. Craig pulled out a canopy from the side of his trailer while Max played nearby with a stick he had found on the ground. After the canopy covering was pulled out, Craig pulled a barbecue set out from the side of the trailer that was hooked up to the propane tank in the trailer. Max stopped running around the trailer, stood his ground, and began to bark at something in the front of the trailer, the hair on his back standing on end.

“Max!” yelled Craig. “Come here!” But the dog continued to bark. “Max?” said Craig as he walked toward the front of the trailer. Turning the corner of the front of the trailer, Craig looked and saw Max barking into the direction of the woods. Craig tried to peer through the thick tree line, but he couldn’t see anything past maybe the second or third row of trees. The forest was thick, overgrown, and dark.

“Max, come here,” said Craig.

Max stopped barking when he heard Craig’s voice and came back to him. Craig watched the forest for a minute, looking to see if he could see anything move in the thick bush, but he couldn’t see anything.

“Come on, Max. We need to set our equipment up for the weekend.”

Max came back with Craig to the side of the trailer. Craig opened the trailer door for Max to jump in. Max jumped in and Craig took a dog treat from his pocket and fed it to Max again. Max took the treat and retreated to the back of the trailer, while Craig closed the door and continued to set up camp and equipment. Craig opened the storage compartment to the trailer and pulled out a large megaphone, along with digital and audio equipment boxes from his storage that he kept in large, brown cardboard boxes. Finally, Craig pulled out a plastic folding table and set up audio equipment onto the table. Craig also set up a digital video camera on the table to video record his research. It has always taken a great deal of time for Craig to set up his audio equipment. By the time he finished, it was early in the evening along the Elwha River. The sun was starting to nuzzle up against the tree line, dipping below the hillside, the sound of the river beating against the edge of the riverbank. Craig finished setting up three small security cameras that he always attached to the sides of his trailer when he went camping. This way he wouldn’t miss anything should anything happen while he was fast asleep. One looking out the back, while the other two looked off the sides of his trailer. Craig hooked the cameras up into an old thirteen-inch television set that was hooked up to a receiver that could carry up to four security cameras. The receiver would split the cameras up into sections of four on the small thirteen-inch screen. Craig had the receiver set to run on motion detection. That way, when the sensors on the cameras would pick up motion in the area, they would turn on and begin recording. Craig found that this not only saved on video tape space, but electrical power as well.

After getting his equipment set up, Craig then went back into his trailer, where his dog Max was laying peacefully on the bed of the trailer. Craig let Max be and started to make dinner. He turned the propane stove on and opened the refrigerator door. Finding a nice piece of T-bone steak, Craig took the steak out of the trailer refrigerator, opened the package, and dumped the steak into a cast iron skillet on the burner of the stove. Craig started the burner and began cooking his dinner. The smell of the cooking steak and the sounds of the steak searing in the skillet woke Max from his deep sleep.

“Max, you hungry?” asked Craig.

Max the dog watched intently as Craig flipped the steak in the skillet. Craig opened a pantry cupboard and took out a small bag of dog food, just the right size to last a weeklong for Max if they would be camping for a week long. Craig filled Max’s food dish with dry dog food and his water dish with water. Max hopped down from the bed and continued to watch Craig intently while he cooked his dinner. In that moment though, the old thirteen-inch television triggered on. The camera in the back of the trailer had picked up motion. Craig removed the skillet from the heated burner to a burner that was turned off and went to look at the camera that had triggered on. Craig watched the screen intently and did not see anything that could have made the camera turn on. Craig ignored the screen and let it turn off automatically after the thirty-second recording window. If Craig had been paying closer attention however, he may have noticed the large stick that was now resting on the ground that wasn’t there previously.

Craig went back to cooking his steak, opening the small cupboard above the stove to get a bottle of seasoning salt. Craig seasoned his meat and flipped the steak in the skillet one more time to season the other side. Craig finished cooking the steak and put the seasoning back in the small cupboard. In another cupboard by the refrigerator, Craig opened the cupboard door and took a dish plate from the cupboard. Craig set the dish down on the countertop. Craig got into the freezer section of the refrigerator and grabbed a small microwaveable bag of broccoli. Craig put that in the small microwave on the countertop and cooked it. After the bag of broccoli finished cooking, he poured the broccoli onto his dish and the steak onto the plate. He moved the cast iron skillet to the back burner that was turned off and got into the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of steak sauce. Craig poured steak sauce over the steak and put the bottle back in the refrigerator. He then took his utensils and his plate of food over to the dinner table where Max was waiting intently.

“Max, you have your food down here,” said Craig, pointing to the bowl of dog food.

Max began eating from the bowl of dog food, while Craig enjoyed vegetables and steak. Craig cut three quarters of his steak and the other quarter, gave to Max in his food dish. The two enjoyed a nice steak dinner that evening.

After finishing their dinner, Craig said, “Well, Max, that was a good steak. I suppose I should go back to that store and get some more for our trips, huh?”

Max looked at Craig, tilted his head, and ran to the door of the trailer, where he sat down patiently by the door.

“Yes, it’s just about time to start work,” said Craig.

Darkness was drawing on the small campsite. The sun clearly disappeared behind the trees of the Elwha Valley, casting ominous shadows from the large pine trees that surrounded the campsite. The crickets and toads in the area could be heard, croaking and chirping in unison. Craig had always enjoyed the sounds of nature. To him that was his music. He had dated a girl a while back that asked him what his favorite type of music was, and Craig replied, the chirping of the crickets in the mountain darkness. Apparently, she didn’t like that answer because there was no second date after that evening.

Craig stepped out of his trailer with a heavy green winter coat on. Max hopped out of the trailer and ran to the back of the trailer and began barking at the tree line again, uncontrollably—again, the hair on his back standing on end. Craig walked around the corner of the trailer toward Max.

“Damn it, Max, if you’re going to bark like this you can’t be out here while I work, come on. Let’s go back into the trailer,” said Craig.

Max wouldn’t budge from his position this time though, so Craig grabbed Max by the collar to pull him back and get him to go back inside the trailer. Max held his position firm though, to the point where Craig nearly had to drag him back into the trailer. Once Craig had Max in the trailer, he shut the trailer door.

“Jesus,” said Craig under his breath. “What is his problem?”

Craig walked over to his portable folding table with all his equipment on it and began moving some of the equipment around. Craig stumbled around the table and found a small lantern for light. It was now dark in the Elwha Valley. The sunlight was completely gone and so was moonlight this evening too. It was pure darkness; natural light was only provided by the stars in the night sky. Craig could clearly hear the sounds of the river behind him and the sounds of the crickets, and the frogs, and all other bugs making loud noise.

“Boy, it’s loud out here tonight,” Craig said to himself. “I hope that I can hear through all the secondary audio interference tonight.”

After turning the lantern on, Craig found an audio recorder that he used in previous nightly investigations where he kept an audio log of his investigative research. Craig grabbed the small audio recorder, flipped it to record, and began saying the following into the recorder:

“Friday, March 16, 2018. Today I began my research in the Elwha Valley at approximately 7:58 p.m. I am down by the Elwha River this evening, past the dam and far enough away from the small community where human interaction should not disrupt this investigative research this evening. The temperature gage indicates it is approximately forty-six degrees at this time. It was a bright sunny day, surprising for the Olympic Mountain range this time of the year, and it is a clear night. No clouds and no rain. I can see stars in the sky, and though they are beautiful it feels that the temperature is much colder than just the forty-six degrees that is reported. I am near the unincorporated community of Elwha, Washington. Maybe a population of forty year-round residents who, more or less, identify belonging to Port Angeles, a larger town north of Elwha and back on the Highway 101. A majority of the town’s population come in the summer months for vacation.” He looked at his wrist watch. “It is now 8:00 p.m. and the sun has been set for nearly two full hours now. The tree line around the campsite is thick. It is difficult to see through the forest. It was difficult to see through the forest even in the light of the day too. The canopy of the forest is thick and allows for very little light to make contact with the forest floor. This evening I will begin my investigating by conducting a thermal imaging scan of the area, as well as along the riverbanks. Followed by using an audio parabolic dish to hear faint distant sounds in the forest and around the river valley. Followed by an amplifier with a megaphone to play audible sounds for approximately twenty minutes—the length of the previous audio recording from last trip—finally followed by using the parabolic dish again to see if there are any sounds to report. If this does not yield any data this evening, then I will try older methods of investigating of striking a small tree with a stick and see if I get a response back from within the forest.”

Craig turned the small audio recorder off, setting it back down onto the table. Craig looked up and saw the night sky—not a cloud in the sky, peculiar for the Elwha Valley in March. In March the valley gets approximately five inches of rain on average. Craig felt he was lucky tonight and perhaps he may finally get the research and evidence he needs to prove the existence of Sasquatch.

Craig followed his plan that he had set out for himself on his audio recorder. Craig found the thermal imaging camera on his table; powering on the device he quickly found that the camera’s batteries were dying. The red flashing battery in the corner of the device told him so.

“Shit n’ shinola,” said Craig as he shook his head from side to side. “This night is already starting off wrong.”

Craig walked back toward the trailer. Opening the door, he stepped in and found Max laying on the floor of the trailer by the bed. Max looked at Craig and he noticed that Max’s eyes almost showed a sign of fear or anxiety, something not normal for his demeanor.

“Max, what’s wrong? What’s wrong, boy?” asked Craig, as he fumbled through a small drawer by the security monitor. Finding four double-A batteries, Craig swapped out the old batteries from the camera and put the new in. Craig stepped back out of the trailer and walked past his setup table toward the riverbank. Craig powered the camera on that now read it had batteries with full life in it. Craig brought the camera up and began scanning the forest environment around him as well as the riverbanks. Craig scanned all around him looking for any source of a heat signature. He didn’t find anything on the thermal cameras—disappointing but encouraging as this proved that there were no other animals in the area, for what Craig could see through the camera at least. Craig continued to scan the area with the thermal camera, but no matter where he looked, whether it was along the banks of the river or into the deep dark forest, Craig couldn’t see anything giving off any type of a body heat source. The thermal imaging camera had failed. Craig walked back toward the table of equipment and set the camera down on the table. Craig moved on to the parabolic dish along with the earphones. Craig placed the earphones on his head and around his ears and powered the parabolic dish on. Batteries were at three quarter life in the parabolic dish. Good enough as Craig began to scan the area with the dish, trying to pick up distant audio from within the forest.

“God damn it!” said Craig, as all he could pick up were the amplified sounds of crickets, frogs, and insects—louder than they were before now. There had to have been crickets for what went on for miles the way he was picking up the chirping sounds on the dish. Craig instantly powered off the parabolic dish, took the headphones off, and set them down on the table. He had only one other thing to try now. The recording sounds from the audio recording from his past investigations looped over and over again on a play cycle. Craig turned the megaphone and amplifier on and pressed play on the audio equipment. The recorder played the sounds of screaming and loud guttural bellowing that blared through the megaphone into the darkness of the pacific northwestern forest. It played nonstop for nearly ten full minutes across the river water, through the forest. Craig stood back while the sound penetrated through the darkness of nightfall until the recording ended and all sound stopped. Craig also noticed that when it came to the sounds that were there before—insects, crickets, frogs, everything—fell quiet. Craig grabbed ahold of the parabolic dish, along with the headphones, turned the dish on, and listened. There was something different about listening through the parabolic dish this time though. Indeed all the insects and frogs in the area that were making sound before, all fell silent. The only sound that Craig heard now was the sound of the running water in the river—and something else. Craig listened intently and focused the parabolic dish on a sound that was coming from deep within the dark forest. The sound sounded similar to heavy branches snapping, popping one by one. It was impossible to determine from how far away the sounds were coming from, other than the direction was clearly coming from the heavily wooded area just behind his camper trailer. Craig listened intently as the snapping sound lasted for nearly a minute, until the snapping sound stopped and everything fell quiet again. Craig continued to scan the forest with the parabolic dish, but for the next few moments after the sounds of snapping tree limbs, Craig couldn’t hear anything more than the river water running behind him. Craig set the parabolic dish and headphones down on the table. Grabbing his audio recorder, he turned the recorder on and began recording.

“Time is currently 8:35 p.m. After playing the audio recording of the creature’s screams and vocalization for approximately ten minutes, I grabbed the parabolic dish and began listening through the headphones. Off in the distance behind the trailer, coming south from the Elwha Valley and from the Olympic Forest, I could distinctly hear the sound of tree limbs snapping in the distance. Perhaps the snapping was coming from another animal, or perhaps something else. A scan of the area with the thermal imager camera revealed absolutely no targeted heat marks in the forest or along the riverbanks. Currently, I am going to try and strike a tree with a stick, let the sound echo in the forest, and see if I get a response back from this form of communication.

Craig finished his audio recording and set the audio recorder back down on the table. Grabbing his flashlight from the table, Craig scoured the area and found a stick about the length and circumference of a baseball bat. Craig walked around the south side of the trailer, up to the darkened tree line. He walked up to a tree and paused for a moment looking into the darkness of the forest with his flashlight. It was incredible that even the light of his flashlight was swallowed up by the darkness of the forest. While Craig stared out into the vast darkness of the pacific northwestern forest, he couldn’t help shake the feeling of being watched by someone or something from within the darkness. Craig turned his flashlight off and stuck it in his coat pocket. He began striking the side of the nearest aspen tree with the piece of wood he had found on the ground. The knockings from the wood slapping against the side of the tree echoed into the darkness of the night. Craig swung the piece of wood into the tree six more times and then paused to wait for a response. Craig heard nothing in reply, and yet he still heard no crickets or frogs in the night. No chirping insects, no croaking toads—there was just nothing there.

Craig again swung the piece of wood into the side of the tree six more times, the sounds of the echoing strikes being driven into the forest, echoing one on top of the other. Craig stopped and listened into the night. Nothing. No response. Again, Craig struck the side of the tree six more times with the piece of wood, and again he heard no reply back.

“Well, must have been some sort of animal that had made the sound of tree limbs breaking in the distance,” said Craig to himself. Craig set the piece of wood down on the ground and reached into his pocket for his flashlight. Turning around to walk back, he clicked the flashlight on. In that moment, Craig heard a sound from behind him—off in the distance of the woods, south, toward the mountain range—the sound of wood clanking against wood. Craig stopped in his tracks and turned to look into the forest with his flashlight. Again, Craig’s light was swallowed by the darkness of the forest. The sounds of knocking came again from the forest, this time sounding closer than before, but still far off in the distance, south of the trailer. Craig clicked his flashlight off and bent down to pick up the piece of wood from off the ground. Craig gripped the wood like a baseball bat and swung into the tree six more times, each time causing an echo sound to reverberate into the forest. Craig waited for a moment and heard a reply—more knocking of wood coming from within the forest. This time four distinctive knocks in reply back to his six. Craig chuckled to himself. He was certain that he was communicating with what he thought to be a Sasquatch through the communication of tree knocking. Craig again struck the tree six more times with his piece of wood, then quietly listened for a response back. Craig heard silence in the night. He continued to pause for a moment to listen but heard nothing in response. Then Craig heard it—the knocking of wood striking a tree, but from much closer than before. Craig would have estimated now maybe fifty yards away from where he was standing. The sound of the knocking being so close startled Craig back a couple steps toward the trailer. Craig gathered his emotions and then laughed to himself, took the piece of wood, walked up to the tree again, smashed it into the tree four more times this time, and listened. The sound of wood knocking in reply was getting closer to him now. Craig swung the stick and struck the tree four more times again, but this time nothing. There was no reply. Craig’s smile turned into a frown as he swung the piece of wood into the tree four more times. No reply. Whatever was replying to the knocking Craig was doing was either gone or lost interest and would not reply back to his communication.

“Ugh…shit,” said Craig, sighing to himself. Perhaps the creature got close enough to see that it wasn’t communicating with a creature of its own kind. Perhaps it had seen or caught Craig’s scent through the forest and took off. Regardless though, Craig knew that he was communicating with a Sasquatch. But again, as times before, he couldn’t prove it. Craig dropped the stick on the ground again and reached into his pocket. Turning the flashlight on, Craig shined it back into the woods, hoping to catch some kind of evidence or maybe even a pair of reflective eyes in the darkness. There was nothing. Craig however did catch something different about the area though: the smell. There was such a pungent rotten odor that smelt very similar to body odor, mixed with decaying fish, mixed with skunk. The smell was terrible, and it hadn’t been there before. Craig had never smelt the creature but had found through studies and research that the smell that the creature emitted was awful. Craig took steps into the forest, looking for any kind of sign from footprints or hair in the area on the trees or branches. Craig found nothing in the area. Craig went back to his table with his equipment and grabbed his audio recorder. Craig began recording.

“The time is now approximately 9:10 p.m. at night. Temperature tonight has dipped down into the high thirties. After attempting wood knocking, I did get a reply back from something south of the camper in the deep forest. Each time the reply in knocking from the creature deep in the forest had drawn the animal closer until finally it stopped when it sounded very close. Perhaps whatever was doing the knocking had seen me or had smelt my natural body scent, because it had stopped in replying to my knocks. I would estimate that the knocking sound got as close to me as about fifty yards. Something else to make note of…the smell. After the replies to my knocking had finished, the smell in the area was the worst smell I have ever smelt in my life. I would have guessed a skunk had just sprayed its own scent in the area, but it smelt worse than just a skunk. It smelt as if it was a combination of skunk, decaying corpse, and body odor. The scent of the creature nearly causing me to vomit.”

Craig set the audio recorder back down on the table. Picking up the parabolic dish and headphones, Craig walked to the back of the trailer again. Craig placed the earphones on his head and powered on the parabolic dish. Craig pointed it in the direction of the forest. He was away from the river now; though he could hear it, the interference from the water wasn’t as bad as it was back at the table. Craig pointed the dish toward the forest, toward the darkness of the woods, and listened intently. Craig again did not hear the sounds of crickets chirping or toads croaking—the first telltale sign that a predator could be in the area. Craig at first did not hear anything with the dish, but then something did become audible in the headphones. In the deepest corner of the forest, Craig could hear it—a faint sound. Screams. Haunting sounds of screaming in the night, along with screaming and guttural groans. Craig thought the sounds sounded like what a mad man would make talking to himself. Then there was another sound. It sounded like someone trying to talk but very garbled and very unintelligible. Craig listened intently to the sounds he was picking up. It sounded as if they were coming from four distinct creatures as the vocalization in all four were different in volume, tone, and cadence. Craig listened to the audio sound for nearly twenty minutes as the sounds seemed to communicate with one another. Craig was astounded as it sounded as if the creatures were indeed communicating with one another. From the parabolic dish, Craig guessed that from how audible the sounds were, they could be approximately half a mile away—so close yet so far for Craig. But then as soon as Craig had found the sounds coming from deep within the forest, they were gone. Craig continued to try and find the sounds again with the parabolic dish, but they were gone. Disappointed and discouraged, Craig turned and walked back to the table with his equipment by the camper. Craig took his headphones off and set them on the table, along with the parabolic dish. Craig picked up the audio recorder, turned it on, and recorded the following:

“The time is now 9:47 p.m. I just finished trying a very unscientific approach, yet such a crude way of making contact with the creatures I believe worked and worked rather effectively. I had attempted the communication of tree knocking with the beings. After a few attempts at this old technique, I received a reply back that I would estimate to be approximately half a mile away from my position. As is the case most of the time, so close but yet so far away. At this time, I will play more audio sounds of the creature’s screams and vocal communications made from the creatures in the previous research investigations into the forest and toward the direction of the tree knockings.”

Craig turned the audio recorder off and set it back down on the equipment table. Craig turned the megaphone and amplifier back on and pressed play on the audio equipment. On the audio player, Craig turned the repeat option on so that the sounds of the creatures would loop over and over again. The sounds of high-pitched screaming and loud deep guttural bellowing blared through the megaphone into the darkness of the forest. It played repeatedly across the river water and through the forest. Craig stood back from the megaphone while the sound blasted from the device, penetrating through the darkness of the night. Craig sat down in a foldable lawn chair and listened intently. It amazed him how the vocalization sounds eerily sounded similar to that of a human, yet so animalistic. Craig tilted his head back and let out a yawn. Looking down to his wrist, Craig saw that it was late in the evening now: 10:29 p.m., and he was getting tired fast. He stood up from the lawn chair and walked over to the audio player. Craig turned the audio equipment off and grabbed the megaphone and amplifier. Craig placed the earphones over his head and pointed the parabolic dish into the forest and listened intently while staring into the forest. While looking into the forest, Craig thought he may have seen a pair of red, glowing orbs peering around the corner of a tree in the darkness, just around the border of the tree line. Craig paused for a moment, didn’t think much of the small lights other than probably fireflies, and listened into the woods, but he could hear nothing—not even the sounds of the insects. It was completely silent in the area again. Craig decided to call it a night and picked up his equipment from the table and stuck it in the storage compartment of the trailer, a large space next to the door that fit storage under the floor of the trailer. Once Craig had put all his equipment away for the night, he locked the door to the storage area with a padlock and entered into his trailer. He left the table outside the trailer. He was just going to turn around and put his equipment right back on the table for the next day anyway. Once Craig was in the trailer he shut and locked the door behind him. Craig turned on a small lamp in the trailer for some light. He took his jacket off and hung it up in the small closet of the trailer by the door. His dog, Max, was loyally sleeping on the foot of the bed of the trailer. Craig crawled onto the top covers of the bed fully clothed and, laying on his back, stared up at the ceiling of the trailer. While he lay there in silence, Craig thought to himself how incredible it will be someday when he can bring actual physical proof and evidence that the creatures he has spent so much time studying for the past couple years are real. Drowsiness began to creep into the eyes of Craig as he lifted his wrist up to his face and read the time. It was now 10:58 p.m., and Craig slowly slipped into a deep slumber.

*****

Thump! It was the sound that the loud bang on the outside of the trailer had made that had woke Craig up in the middle of the night. He rubbed his eyes with the backs of his hands and looked at his wristwatch. The glowing numbers on his wristwatch said that the time was now 2:12 a.m. He had slept for about three hours. Craig laid in bed still disoriented, trying to fall back to sleep when the sound of another loud thump was made that shook the trailer. Craig woke up and looked toward the windows in the front of the trailer. He wasn’t certain, but Craig thought that he had seen a pair of red glowing balls of light in the front window. Craig instantly sat up in bed but did not see the red glowing balls of light in front of the trailer anymore. Craig got up and out of bed and stood in the middle of the trailer looking around. His dog, Max, began to wake up too. Raising his head up, Max began to growl. The hairs on the dog’s back began to stand on end. Craig listened intently for another loud thump to come. He wasn’t disappointed. He heard another loud thump and the trailer rock on its wheels from whatever hit the side of the trailer. A light turned on from behind Craig. He slowly turned around to see where the source of the light was coming from. It was his security cameras from outside. The monitor had turned on as it had caught movement on the south side camera, the one pointing toward the forest. Craig looked at the lit monitor and saw a large dark shadow moving toward the trailer from the darkness of the forest. Craig could faintly see the outline of what appeared to be a very strong upright bipedal creature, tall as it was wide. Craig couldn’t be certain what he was looking at, but he could see a set of two small red eyes glowing in the darkness. Craig turned the TV off, careful not to emit any light from within the trailer to indicate to whatever it was out there that he was in the trailer. Craig was in a position where he couldn’t defend himself; being away from civilization didn’t help his matters much either. Craig knew in that moment that he may have to defend himself and his dog in any way that he could. He had a baseball bat in the clothing closet where he hung his jacket up. He could grab that and keep it close. His cell phone. Craig just remembered that he had his cell phone with him too. It was up toward the front of the trailer, in the glove compartment. Craig first grabbed the bat from the clothing closet, then made his way toward the front of the trailer. Craig cautiously looked out the windows of the front of the trailer. He could hear Max, still lying in bed and still growling as if an intruder was outside. Craig reached past the passenger seat and opened the glove box where he found his cell phone. Craig grabbed his phone and checked that his phone had exactly 73 percent battery power.

“Thank God,” whispered Craig to himself as he backtracked his way back into the middle of the trailer.

In that moment though, something had run into the side of the trailer from the side, nearly tipping it over. The trailer shook and loose notepads and pens fell from the dining table onto the floor. Pots and pans fell out of the cupboards by the kitchen area. The trailer shocks creaked under the pressure of the impact and was moving up and down. Craig nearly fell over from the trailer moving, bracing himself on the opposite side wall of where the impact from the outside hit the trailer. Craig didn’t know who he could call for help. No one knew that he was out here in the forest. He tried to remember how he had exactly got to where he was. He could call for the sheriff to come out and help. It was his only chance. Craig turned his phone on and began to dial when he heard a loud noise from outside the trailer. The noise sounded like humans talking, but Craig could tell they weren’t humans. It didn’t sound exactly like humans. The vocalization sounded deep, guttural, but worst of all, it sounded as if it was coming from all around the trailer. The sounds sounded like the creatures in his recording and what he had heard deep in the forest earlier in the evening. Craig turned around and looked at the security monitor that he had turned off. Grabbing his jacket from the closet, Craig put the jacket over the top of the monitor and ducked his head under the jacket. Craig turned the security monitor back on. The screen glowed brightly back to life. It took a moment for Craig’s eyes to adjust from the darkness to the light of the monitor again, but when they did, he regretted ever coming out to these woods. From the monitor Craig saw large humanoids standing around the trailer, looking at the outside of the trailer. All three of the cameras outside were powered on from motion. The creatures were walking around the outside of the trailer, and to Craig’s horror they appeared as if they were trying to see into the trailer through the windows. Craig knew if the creatures saw the light of the security monitor, they would know for sure he was in there, if they didn’t already. Craig reached under the jacket and powered off the monitor. Craig could hear weird animal sounds coming from outside the trailer. Grunts, squawking, chatter, all filled the early morning darkness. Craig slowly took his jacket and set it down on the floor. Craig laid down on the floor, stuck his head and hands with his phone under the jacket, and turned his phone on to get an exact location on the GPS he had on his phone. While his phone was loading the coordinates though, Craig looked up from under the jacket and toward the front of the trailer and out the windows. There he saw a set of red glowing eyes, watching him through the glass. In a moment he locked eyes with the red glow, and in a brief moment, the eyes backtracked and disappeared back into the darkness. Craig knew that the creatures knew he was in the trailer now. Craig watched as a large branch slammed into the glass of the front of his trailer. Craig got out from under the jacket and crawled backward toward the bed. Max, the dog, jumped off the bed and onto the floor, crawling under the bed to hide. Max had an intuition that whatever was outside the trailer was a predator that he wanted no part of. Craig knew now for sure that the creatures knew he was in the trailer. He grabbed the baseball bat lying on the ground by him and took his phone and dialed 911. The phone rang twice before being picked up by an emergency service operator.

“911, what is your emergency?” said the operator.

“Yes, hello,” whispered Craig. “I need help. I’m out camping in the woods, by the Elwha River, and I need help.”

“What is the nature of your emergency, sir?”

“I was sleeping in my trailer, and someone is trying to break into my trailer from the outside.”

“Is someone threatening you, sir?”

“Something is…outside my trailer.”

“Something, sir?”

The operator could distinctly hear loud growling coming through Craig’s receiver in his phone.

“Yes, something.”

“Sir, what was that noise in the background?”

“That is them. Look, please send the sheriff, send help. They’re outside my trailer, and my dog and I are in very serious danger.”

“Sir, you need to be more specific on what is going on here, I need to be able to tell the officers what they are to expect when they arrive at the scene.”

“It’s Sasquatch. A group of them.”

“Sir, have you had anything to drink this evening? Do you use recreational drugs? Take any medications?”

“No, this is real!”

“So your trailer is under attack by a group of Sasquatch?”

“Yes, can’t you hear them?”

“Are they the ones that are making the growling sounds in the background?”

“Yes.”

“Are you with anyone else, sir?”

“Just my dog, Max. He’s in the trailer with me, hiding under the bed.”

“Sir, can you hide under the bed too?”

“No, there isn’t enough room for me to get completely under the bed.”

“What is your address, sir?”

“Jesus, you’re never going to believe me. I’m going to fucking die out here.”

“Sir, what is your address?”

“Um, I don’t have a specific address. Look, I drove from Port Angeles to Elwha on Highway 101. Then I turned off onto Herrick Road, all the way to where the pavement ended. Near the end of the road, I found a small gravel dirt road, which led down toward the Elwha River. The road is really unkempt and filled with large bumps and holes in it.”

“Sir, can you be more specific than that? Are there roads with names?”

“I can’t be any more specific. I’m down at the end of that dirty road that leads toward the Elwha River, parked next to the river. I didn’t see a name to the road I took.”

Suddenly, Craig’s trailer was hit with such great force it rocked the trailer.

“Stop it! Leave me alone!” yelled Craig.

“Sir, what is going on?” asked the operator.

“They’re outside my trailer, ramming into the side of it and trying to tip it over.”

Again, the trailer was hit with such great force the trailer rocked back and forth on its wheels. Finally, the trailer tipped over onto its side with a loud crash. Craig fell against the side of his trailer, clutching his phone in one hand and his bat in the other. The sound of breaking glass rang out through the trailer.

“Sir, what was that loud bang? What is happening?”

“They just tipped my fucking trailer over!” yelled Craig. “Get out of here! Leave me alone! Go!”

The sounds of the creatures were getting louder. They continued to bang at the sides and now the undercarriage of the trailer. The creatures screamed and growled as they worked on destroying the outside of the trailer. Craig looked toward the back of the trailer, by the window where the bed was. Craig watched as a large hairy arm with a balled-up fist broke through the window glass.

“Please send help!” said Craig in the phone.

“Sir, remain calm. We’ve found your location using the GPS function in your phone. Stay on the phone with me. There are sheriffs on their way to your location right now. They are coming from just outside Port Angeles, so it will be a bit before they get there. Can you hide somewhere in your trailer until the deputies can get to your location?”

“There is nowhere to hide! They already know I’m here! Get the hell out of here! Leave me alone goddamn it!”

The creatures were more vocal and more audible than ever before now, growling, squawking back and forth with one another, and screaming. The screaming was horrendous. The creatures began to tear parts of the trailer walls apart.

“Go away! Leave me alone! Get out of here!” Craig continued to yell at the creatures.

“Sir, you need to do your best to find a safe place to go in your trailer. Somewhere you can hide in your trailer. Sheriff deputies are on their way. They’re trying to get there as fast as they can.”

Over the phone the operator could hear the sounds of metal being torn apart, along with the sounds of breaking glass. The operator continued to hear the creatures’ sounds, although she didn’t know what to make of it. The operator then heard the sounds of Craig screaming through the phone, yelling at the creatures.

“They’re almost through the trailer wall,” said Craig as he dropped the phone on the ground and took his bat into both hands and started swinging at the creatures. From the other end of the phone, the operator could hear the sounds of bone breaking, a man screaming, and then silence.

“Sir,” said the operator. There was nothing but silence for a few seconds and then there was another sound the operator had never heard in her life. It was a deep, guttural growl that came through the receiver of the phone—maybe a foot or two away from the receiver of the phone that the operator would never forget for the rest of her life. The growling was followed by a loud audible scream and then a crunching sound from the phone being crushed.

*****

About half an hour later, Clallam County Sheriff Deputies responded to the small town of Elwha, Washington. Three trucks in total drove through the main street of Herrick Road until the road ended. They found the small dirt road where they believed Craig must have taken down to get to the bank of the river. They noticed a road sign that said Wapiti Way. Deputies took the road down toward the river that did eventually turn into a dirt road that led all the way down to the river. Here the deputies came to a clearing by the riverbank and found the torn apart remains of what was left of Craig’s trailer. Equipment and personal effects were scattered all across the campsite. One deputy stepped out of his truck and walked up to the trailer that was pushed over and torn apart. There he found blood and tattered human remains of what he thought could have been the caller to 911—part of a human arm and a hand. Deputies looked around the trailer and found multiple large footprints in the mud and in the ground around the trailer, along with pieces of hair that were left behind in the torn metal walls of the trailer. The other two deputies joined the first in viewing the area. The first deputy reported in.

“319 to dispatch,” said Deputy Fox.

“Dispatch to 319, go ahead,” replied the dispatch operator.

“319 observes the campsite of the location or origin of the 911 call. Observed a camper trailer has been pushed over. Upon observation of the trailer it does appear that there are some human remains from the trailer, as well as large human like footprints outside the trailer.”

“Dispatch to 319, clean up the campsite, whatever human remains that are there as well. Write this up as a missing person investigation and report back no signs of human life.”

“319 to dispatch, that doesn’t seem like the right thing to do. Should we call Detective Cameron to investigate?”

“Dispatch to 319, these were the orders of Sheriff Mitchell. He’s on his way out to the location as well and said you would say that. Sheriff Mitchell wanted me to ask you when you did if you wanted chaos and a pandemic of media to report that a group of unknown creatures killed a man. Elwha is already a small enough town, and we want to keep it that way.”

“319 to dispatch, but to completely ignore a human life?”

“Dispatch to 319, the man shouldn’t have been out there anyway.”

“319 to dispatch, yes, sir. 319 and 827 and 828 will clean up the site, dispose of human remains in the Elwha River. What of the trailer, dispatch?”

“Dispatch to 319, leave the trailer. It won’t be the first trailer abandoned by the edge of a river. Over.”

“319 to dispatch, will follow through with orders. Over.”

A fourth white sheriff’s truck pulled into the opening by the river. A rustic, older sheriff stepped out of the car. Sergeant Mitchell had seen his fair share of action in the field during his tenure as sheriff of Clallam County for the past thirty-two years. His beard hung down his chin, touching the Kevlar chest protector he wore under his light tan-colored uniform. His belly hung over the front of his belt as if he enjoyed a beer each night for those past thirty-two years too.

“You boys clean this fucking mess up. No traces,” said Sheriff Mitchell.

“But, sir, this doesn’t seem right. There was obviously a human life lost here,” replied Deputy Fox.

“Do you see a fucking body?”

“No, sir. But there’s a human arm and a human hand inside the trailer. Looks as if they were appendages violently ripped off the caller’s body too.”

“Forget that shit. You boys didn’t see shit out here. Clean the damn mess up, and like I said, no traces of anything human. Last thing I want around this goddamn town is a group of crazed asshole hunters, claiming themselves to be fucking Sasquatch scientists, like this fucking fruit loop. The dipshit shouldn’t even have been up here in the first place.”

Sergeant Mitchell spat his wad of chewing tobacco onto the ground, reaching into his back pocket, and grabbed his chew cup to get more. Sergeant Mitchell opened the cup, took a dip out, and stuffed a fresh wad of chewing tobacco between his brown-colored teeth and bottom lip.

“Now then. Clean the fucking mess. There was no sign of anything here. The call. The call was a fucking prank. We get them all the time. Drunk dumbass college kids coming up here to drink and smoke jayne, and fuck. Nothing more than that. Move, men.”

“What about the human remains?”

“Toss that shit into the river. No one will know either way. Now move your asses and clean this shit up!”

With that, the deputies followed the orders of their superior and began to clean up the campsite. Sergeant Mitchell got back into his patrol truck, backed up, and drove out of the clearing and back up the dirt trail, leaving the deputies to clean up the scene. The deputies picked up garbage and small pieces of what was left of the trailer. Deputies also cleaned up what they presumed was all that was left of Craig, tossing pieces of his body into the Elwha River as they were ordered to do—a grim demise to the biology professor from South Puget Sound Community College. After the deputies finished cleaning up the campsite, they abandoned the trailer and went back to their squad cars. Here Deputy Fox wrote in his report that upon responding to the scene they observed an old abandoned trailer that appeared to have been left along the riverbank for years, no campsite, and no Craig Irving. Craig was now officially a missing person with the Clallam County Sheriff’s Department—one of many that were reported missing around the Olympic Highway 101, Port Angeles suburbs, and the small town of Elwha, Washington. When he finished his report and reluctantly submitted it to the station by his squad truck computer, Deputy Fox started his patrol truck and drove out, followed by the other two deputies. The urgent 911 phone call that was made to the dispatch, considered as a screened-out report, only made by a drunken fool or someone who had taken too much recreational drugs in the evening and was playing a prank on the sheriff’s department.

This was the last time anyone had ever heard from Dr. Craig Irving—family, friend, or colleague. He was reported as a missing person from the Clallam County Sheriff’s Office.