Family Land Secrets part 2

Family Land Secrets part 2

Jordan was woken again by what sounded like a stick being banged on his cabin. It was moving, banging first on one wall, then another, all around the cabin. Jordan also thought he could hear a grunting sound. He thought it was a bear and hoped that the cabin was strong enough to keep it out. He put one hand on his revolver just to be safe.

Eventually, the banging sound stopped, and the Forest was once again quiet.

Jordan slept in the next morning. His sleep had been interrupted too many times by wildlife, and he didn't wake until the sunlight came in the cracks of the door and shutters, and the cabin warmed up in the morning sun.

He made a breakfast of freeze-dried eggs and powdered coffee. The valley was even more gorgeous in the morning than it had been in the afternoon when he had arrived. He drugs the wood chair outside and sipped his coffee in the morning sun. A passenger jet was the only manufactured sound all morning.

After breakfast, Jordan started his motorcycle and drove to the first of the mine trailing, where his great-great-grandfather had once sought his fortunes. Rotted wood-framed an opening of a square hole in the mountain.

Jordan was tall, over 6', and had to crawl to enter the century-old mine shaft. Inside, he found some rusty tin cans and an old steel pick. Eight feet in, the tunnel was collapsed, though Jordan could tell that the shaft had once been much deeper.

There was a musty smell of decay and dampness, and Jordan wondered if something had died beyond the cave-in. Jordan took the pick as a souvenir and returned to his motorcycle.

The second mine shaft had a slightly larger opening, and Jordan could see ten yards into the tunnel before it turned. The tunnel seemed to be carved from solid stone, and there were no rotting wood supports. Jordan stooped to enter and followed the tunnel back to where it turned. He heard a rumbling growl as he turned the corner and saw a massive pile of brown fur rolling on the floor and the massive creature started to rise.

Jordan crawled and sprinted out of the mine opening and was on his motorcycle speeding away seconds later. His heart didn't stop pounding in his chest until he saw the cabin in front of him and looked over his shoulder to see he wasn't being followed.

After deep breaths, his mind made sense of what he had stumbled on. He hoped that was the same bear that had kept him awake last night.

'Serves you right, bastard.' Jordan thought. 'You wake me up at night, I wake you up during the day.'

Jordan was curious to see the inside of his grandfather's mine but wasn't about to fight a bear in its den for the right.

He spent the rest of the day exploring on foot. He found the rotted remains of an old sluice box set up down by the creek, and what must have been the original cabin that the miners had lived in. Rotted and aged wood fragments piled up around a loose stone foundation. It was bigger than the cabin Uncle Ira had built or restored and seemed to have a cellar, which had filled up with debris.

Jordan worked on clearing wood and dirt out of the old pit until his stomach started complaining. He took a break for lunch, then cleared the rest of the approximately 12'x10' hole. The walls were lined with stone blocks, and Jordan found several old mining artifacts, including a gold pan and some glass jars in surprisingly good condition.

The land was filled with test holes, some of which went several yards into the mountain, but Jordan didn't want to risk running into any more bears and stayed out.

Dinner was once again freeze-dried stew with Gatorade. Jordan took a dip in the pond before the sunset and then sat on the wood floor in front of his fireplace to warm up and dry off.

Jordan estimated that he had hiked over three miles that day. His legs were aching, and he was exhausted. With a warm fire and a full stomach, Jordan turned off the light and climbed into his sleeping bag early.

The banging started around midnight. Grunts and howls echoed through the woods around the tiny cabin, punctuated by the occasional scream. Jordan's first thought was that a bear and a pack of coyotes were partying with a mountain lion, but that made no sense. His heart pounding, Jordan put his hand on the pistol and carried it to the window where he threw open the shutters and shone his flashlight outside.

A huge, barrel-chested figure stood just a few yards away. Jordan's first thought was that this is the biggest man he had ever seen. Then he saw that the man was covered in fur, and it wasn't a coat. He saw a flaccid cock hanging down through thick Brown fur that coated his arms, chest, and legs.

Black deep-set eyes spun into Jordan's flashlight beam. The man's mouth opened showing decidedly nonhuman, long canines. A deep animalistic roar rumbled forth from the creature in a hand reached for the window where Jordan stood watching.

A reflex caused Jordan to yank the shutter closed and slammed the wooden latch as a heavy fist smashed against the wooden planks.

For just a moment Jordan thought the hand would slash through, but the creature was not focused on that window. The bangs continued all the way around the cabin on each of the walls. It was the middle of the night, but Jordan's heart was racing, and he knew he would not get any more sleep. He sat with his flashlight on, clutching his pistol, and struggling to calm himself.

Jordan cowered by the fireplace until the banging ceased. Once his heart settled, his first thought was of his uncle's books on Bigfoot. He opened first one, then the other. They had been published in the 1960s and held more legend and rough sketches than any truthful information.

Outside, the screams returned followed by howls and grunts. It sounded like there was more than one and possibly a whole tribe. Suddenly his uncle's injuries and the stories of the danger of this land made more sense. He wondered if his grandfather had killed one, and his mining partner had been killed in retaliation.

Jordan marveled at the realization that Bigfoot is real. He thought back to the mineshaft and the animal within. He had found the lair of the mythical creature.

Jordan heard a crash that sounded like metal twisting and plastic breaking. The grunting and screaming sounds moved off to a distance and finally quieted. Jordan fell asleep on the floor in front of the fireplace.

His neck and back hurt and he was freezing when he awoke before sunrise the following morning. He rose stiffly and added kindling and some logs to the fire to get it roaring again before climbing into his sleeping bag and relaxing on his bedroll.

Jordan was in and out of sleep until the sunbeams once again woke him. He had terrible nightmares all night about giants crushing his cabin and him with it.

Realizing that it was not a dream Jordan opened the cabin door slowly and looked outside. His motorcycle was gone. Stepping outside he found it 20 yards up the hill thrown like a toy against a tree. The handlebars were bent, the seat ripped, and some plastic trim was broken, but Jordan thought it was probably still rideable.

There was a distinct musky smell in the air, reminiscent of wild animals but like nothing, Jordan had ever smelled before.

Looking at the land with new eyes, Jordan saw signs everywhere that someone not human had been living there. In several places, young trees had been bent to the ground, almost as though to make a rough shelter.

Rocks were stacked in precarious piles that were obviously the work of a sentient animal. Bark was ripped from trees in places, but that may have been the work of elk or moose.

Jordan ate a light breakfast, packed his belongings, and was ready to leave by mid-morning. He didn't feel safe alone in the woods and was worried about what another night might bring. Part of him wanted to stay, but he needed information, and some different supplies if he was going to stay.

The trail out of the woods that Jordan had used to arrive had been altered. Small trees were uprooted and laid across the path. His motorcycle was able to drive over most of them, but it took him much longer to get out of the woods and back onto the dirt road he had used to get here.

Jordan felt relieved as his motorcycle once again reached a paved road and he sped up to 40 miles per hour.

To be continued