Page 16 of Something Cryptid This Way Comes
Jo waves from her side of the fire where she’s sitting with Alex MacDougall. She’s in charge of leading one group. Ever and Dmitri agreed to head up another. And Bram and I will take the third.
He and I were busy this past week, meeting with people and documenting their cryptid stories, and mapping out the places where people claimed they had sightings. We spent two afternoons and one rainy night gathering food and supplies for Cryptid Night. And every night before we fall asleep, he tells me a story from his travels, some new and others I’ve heard before, sometimes in my bedroom like the first night and sometimes stretched out on the couches in the living room before we head upstairs. It’s quickly becoming my favorite part of the day, but a tightness constricts my chest anytime I think of Bram leaving and going back to comforting myself with only recordings of his voice.
When Agnes finishes her story, Bram stands. “Everyone, we’ll get started with the investigation in a few minutes. Please finish your food and make sure you have the headlamps and flashlights you received when you arrived. Trevor here,” he points to me, “will be making the rounds, so if you got here late and didn’t receive one, let him know.”
Excited chatter starts up in all directions. I walk the perimeter, checking that everyone has headlamps and flashlights.
Helping pack up the food, Bram chats with Jason Zervudachi. His family owns Moon Meadows Maple Farm, where we’ve bought our maple syrup for as long as I can remember.
As I pass them, Jason says, “I swear I saw Mabel when I was seven or eight on the far side of the meadow at the northwestern edge of my family’s farm.”
So many people have had Mabel encounters, sometimes it feels like I’m the only Maplewoodian who has yet to see the cryptid. I hope I will one day.
Ever and Dmitri meet me on my second time around the fire. Ever tests his flashlight, turning it on, then off. “These were a good idea, instead of relying on people to bring their own.”
“The outdoor company that sponsors Bram’s podcast sent them, but the safety vests and first aid packs were Bram’s idea. Thanks again for stepping in. We couldn’t have pulled this off without help.”
Dmitri hefts the backpack we gave to the group leaders, which is filled with supplies from a first aid kit to bear spray. “Is anyone else worried about screwing up the safety procedures Bram drilled us on?”
“I am.” I raise my hand. “Bram’s so experienced. But things can still go wrong. And if something happens tohim, I don’t want to mess up.”
Ever waves to Jake, Alaric, and Zach who are standingwith Jo. “It’s good Jake’s here. I feel better having a paramedic around.”
“Me too.”
After tucking a water bottle into his pack, Dmitri steps closer to me and lowers his voice. “Do you think we’ll see anything? Over sixty people trooping through the woods isn’t going to be quiet.”
“Most animals should steer clear of us unless they’re curious. I guess that’s also true for potential cryptids. But with the number of people, we can cover a wider area, which is good for finding things like foot or paw prints, hair or scat, or evidence that something is feeding, like carcasses or bones.”
He wrinkles his nose. “I’m not picking up any scat.”
“Same here. I don’t care if we have gloves and bags. I’m leaving that to other people.”
On the other side of the fire, Bram whistles, and the conversations quiet down. He motions for everyone to gather closer together. “Anyone who wants to wait here by the fire instead of heading into the woods is welcome to stay and monitor the feed from the trail cameras posted throughout the search area. Agnes and Eleanor will keep you company.”
Agnes waves to the crowd with both hands and Eleanor toasts everyone with her drink.
“We’ll meet up here at the end of the investigation. For those investigating, if you were given a purple bracelet when you arrived, you’re in Jo’s group.” Bram points her out and she raises her hand. “Yellow bracelets, you’re with Ever and Dmitri.” Ever and Dmitri wave to the group. “And green bracelets, you’re with Trevor and me. Regardless of your group color, stay with a buddy, don’t go off alone. We’ll see everyone back here at ten o’clock.”
People applaud and cheer then break off, heading to the individual groups.
Our group has twenty people. I hop onto thetree stump so I can see everyone and they can see me. “We’re covering the south side of the woods. You can fan out and go at your own pace, but please don’t go off alone. Group leaders are staying connected with each other. If you want to try out calls or generate sounds, we can let the other groups know so those aren’t mistaken as possible evidence.”
Bram nods. “We’ll share whatever findings we have back at the campfire. Let’s go, team green. Happy searching.”
Dry leaves and twigs crunch beneath our feet as we move between the trees. In the absence of the campfire’s blaze, darkness blankets the forest. The beams from headlights and flashlights help, but even with them, tripping over uneven ground, a tree root, or log, and ending up with a twisted ankle or worse, is a possibility.
To the sound of crickets chirping and the occasional hoot of an owl, we study tree trunks for claw scratches or captured strands of hair and match depressions made in patches of dirt and mud to various animal paw prints.
The camera Bram gave me is in night vision mode, which gives everything a greenish hue. Sticking close to him, I slowly pan the trees, looking for movement or eye shine. “Do you think we’ll see Mabel?”
He scans the same area with his thermal camera. “The majority of the Mabel sightings have been between dawn and dusk. It’s later than that now, so I’m thinking not. But I guess it’s not impossible. Just like it’s not impossible for us to encounter a black bear this time of night.”
“That happened to some hikers last summer. They got lost, the sun went down, and they came too close to its den.” We climb over a fallen tree, then skirt around some small bushes. I shudder at the thought of meeting a bear, even though I know we’re more likely to see weasels, fishers, foxes, owls, and bats. “I hope we’ll find somethingto set Agnes’s mind at ease.”
“She only had the general area of where she thought the winged thing swept into the woods.” Bram stops walking. He grabs my arm and pulls me toward a large pine tree, giving us some privacy. “I still wonder if she saw a great blue heron. They can hunt at night and have a wingspan of six or seven feet.”
“That makes sense. Seeing it at night could affect accurately judging the size.”
