Page 17 of Something Cryptid This Way Comes
He stares at the star-studded sky beyond the tips of the towering pines and sighs. “I don’t want to dismiss her. One thing I’ve learned is people want to be heard. They’re more likely to accept my findings, even if it’s not what they were hoping for, if they feel like you’re taking them seriously.” Lines of frustration fan out from his eyes. “That’s why we need to investigate more.”
The urge to smooth away that tension wells so strong, I need to act. Careful of our equipment and his backpack, I wrap my arm around his shoulders and give him an encouraging squeeze. “We will. The original plan was that you might be here for two weeks, so next week, when you’re not busy scripting and recording the podcast, we’ll go hunting.”
The light emanating from our cameras catches his smile. “Thank you.”
Voices carry from members of the green team who think they’ve found a footprint.
I lower my arm and step back. “We better check that out.”
“Yeah.” He brushes his hand along my arm. “Let’s go.”
The section of dirt with the impression isn’t a clear print. Edges are muted and smaller paw prints of another animal’s tracks cross over it. Bram takes photos and a digital scan.
Another team member finds hairs caught on a low-hanging branch. We bag them, tag them, and photograph the spot. Seeing Bram in action, his thoroughness and attention to detail, should not be a turn-on. Yet here I amsporting a semi while my friend takes pictures from every angle.
“Team purple to team green, come in.” Jo’s voice echoes from the radio.
“Go for green.” Bram holds up his hand, waving for us to gather around him.
“One of my team wants to try a call.”
“We’re ready. Go for it.”
Soon, a screech pierces the air. We all wince, and I tug on my ear trying to silence the ringing. “That sounded more like a scream queen in a horror movie. I’ve never heard an animal sound like that.”
Bram pulls a small device out of his backpack. “This has recordings of all animals that are native to the area, so we could try a few of these calls and see what we get back.”
We radio Jo and Ever and let them know. Bram plays calls of various prey animals, and we wait in silence. I keep scanning the trees and ground.
In the far distance, a wolf howls.
On my camera, I pick up eye shine, low to the ground, and my pulse quickens. “I have something. I think it’s an animal. Keeps popping up then disappearing.”
The others gather around me. Bram returns his animal call device to his backpack, then comes over. He rests his forearm on my shoulder and leans in, his focus on the screen. Every cell in my body vibrates with the electricity of his nearness. The air around us is thick with excitement, but to their credit, our group remains quiet and still. Soon, a fox emerges from a bush, then freezes in his tracks. Collectively, we release our breath. Mystery animal solved.
Bram checks the time on his hiking watch. “Okay, I’m gonna tell the others that we’re done with calls. We’ll still keep listening and watching as we explore.”
He slides his forearm along my shoulder until his handclasps the curve, and he keeps it there, connecting us, as he radios the other groups. I soak up every second of contact, of closeness, of the way his body angles toward mine.
After he finishes, and gives our group the signal, we venture deeper into the woods. The landscape is rougher here. Trees are closer together, there are dens and caves and cliffs that have deep drops. And we’re doing this in the dark. The night vision camera helps take away some of the unknowns, but staying close to Bram is where I feel safest. Happiest, too.
We come to a massive tree, cracked down the middle, across a shallow creek. The rocks on either side look shiny and slippery. To say I’m not confident about crossing it would be an understatement.
Bram scrambles up and over it. Then turns to me. “Okay?”
“What if it doesn’t support me?”
“I will.” He extends his hand, palm open and facing up. “I’ve got you.”
My heartbeat ticking faster, I place my hand in his. The tree creaks with my step on the weathered bark, but Bram hauls me up and with two more creaky steps, I clear the hurdle. Back on solid ground, unscathed, relief sweeps through me. “Thanks.”
“Told you.” Instead of letting go, he laces our fingers together, and my heartbeat ticks faster for a totally different reason. This is the first time we’ve ever held hands.
We’re both wearing gloves, there’s no heat of skin to skin. But we’re palm to palm, the press of his fingers is a deliberate hold fusing us together, with mine reinforcing the connection, and that’s a thrill of its own.
Seconds stretch out as we watch each other. My pulse throbs with the pull toward him. His hand feels good wrapped around mine. Better than good, it feels right. So right.Surprise and delight shimmer and shine, brighter than all the stars in the sky.
The wonder in his gaze leaves me breathless. Bram smiles and squeezes my hand.
