Mitchell Harkness, the team medic, was waiting when they arrived back at the small village some fifty miles northwest of Nome. Though not usually pleased with the concept of splitting up the team during a hunt, he’d found upon their arrival that many of the villagers were in need of medical assistance – some because of the creature they’d come to kill. Being that the nearest doctor only flew in once every few weeks, Mitchell had volunteered to stay behind to tend to the patients. However, that didn’t mean he hadn’t been getting increasingly antsy as the hours passed.
Despite the cold, he had kept one window cracked open so as to listen for gunfire. With the impending storm, he knew it was foolish but couldn’t help it. The incident in Colorado a year earlier had left its mark on all of them, so he indulged himself the best he could while patching up those who needed it.
Once finished, he was tempted to head out to join his teammates, but that was an even worse idea than letting the three of them trek off without him. Knowing his luck, he’d find them at the exact wrong moment and end up getting his head blown off. Besides, it was only their second day in the village. If nothing was found, he could join them for tomorrow’s hunt.
To keep his mind occupied, he’d grabbed one of Francis’s spare cameras from the Snowcat and proceeded to question the elders about the legend of the Thunderbird, figuring a little extra footage wouldn’t go unappreciated.
He was just finishing his second interview when there came a commotion from the far side of the lodge. People were gathering and talking excitedly. He excused himself from the elder and turned toward the door just as his friends entered, Francis in the lead.
The burly, bearded man took one look at him and crossed his arms reproachfully. “Stealing my job, eh? The union’s gonna hear about this one.”
♦ ♦ ♦
“You should’ve seen that thing chasing Danni. It was like something out of One Million Years BC, minus the fur bikini.”
“Thank God for small favors,” Danni muttered, causing Francis to laugh.
“Let’s keep that one on the down-low,” Derek said. “If our producer hears about it, he’s liable to ship one up here.”
Danni made an exaggerated gagging sound, eliciting more chuckles from the group. She hadn’t been shy about sharing her misgivings regarding the wardrobe choices offered to her.
Her motives for joining the team had been to help people. For the most part, it had been a rewarding experience. Being on the team, though, had meant joining the TV show that was their cover – The Crypto Hunter. Danni didn’t mind being in front of the camera. Unfortunately for her, their core demographic appreciated her presence a bit more than she’d expected.
As a result, the executives at the Adventure Channel had tried at every turn to find excuses to stuff her into the skimpiest outfits possible. At twenty years old and in excellent shape, she wasn’t above admitting she pulled it off well. Still, sometimes she felt her billing in the credits amounted to little more than the letters T and A.
“Get used to it,” warned Francis. “AdventureCon is next month and rumor has it they’re printing up extra posters. I have a feeling your autograph line is going to be a wee bit longer than the rest of ours.”
Danni sighed, wondering for perhaps the thousandth time what she’d been thinking. A few months back, as part of a promo for the new season, she had agreed to a photoshoot. One shot in particular, her in a green bikini posed somewhat salaciously across a statue of Chessie – the monster said to inhabit the Chesapeake Bay estuary – had proven exceptionally popular. Much to her chagrin, it had quickly become the top seller at the Adventure Channel’s online store.
As part of their cover, the team made appearances at various conventions throughout the year. Danni had little doubt she’d be spending hours signing half-naked pictures of herself for lonely guys, all while feeling like a piece of meat.
“I can see why Chuck hated those things,” she said.
“Yes he did,” Mitchell replied, his voice taking on a respectful tone for their deceased comrade.
“Why don’t we focus on something he didn’t hate, then?” Derek waved over the waitress of the small tavern, little more than a converted supply shed. She brought over shot glasses and a mason jar full of a clear liquid. “I’m told the local hooch has quite the kick.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Derek poured out three shots then hesitated. Danni was technically underage, but he sometimes made an exception for their customary post-mission toast. He was still annoyed by her earlier actions but, after a moment, decided to focus on the fact that it had all worked out in their favor ... this time anyway.
He poured a fourth and passed it over.
The glasses distributed, all took theirs and held them up.
“To Chuck,” Derek said.
“To Harrison,” Danni added next.
“To all of those who fell at Bonanza Creek,” Mitchell said.
“May they rest in peace,” Francis finished.
There was a momentary beat while all of them let this sink in, then they simultaneously downed the contents of their shot glasses.
The solemn moment was cut short as both Mitchell and Danni started coughing. “Holy crap!” she gagged. “What is that, whale piss?”
“Smooth, just how I like it,” Francis replied, reaching to refill his glass.
“I’ve degreased engines with less potent stuff,” Mitchell said, right before holding his glass out for more.
Derek turned to Danni. “That’s enough brain cells killed for one night. I believe you have work to do anyway.” He was curious to see if she was going to raise a protest, especially after dressing her down during the hike back about the difference between taking initiative and being reckless. However, she appeared to understand that what she’d done was wrong. Besides, the look on her face echoed what his taste buds were already screaming. Whatever was in that jar was nigh undrinkable.
“You’re right.” She stood up. “I’m going to see if I can grab a signal and sign on.”
“No cheating,” Derek admonished as she walked away.
“Yes, Dad,” came the reply back.
♦ ♦ ♦
Though she rankled a little at Derek’s parental tone, deep down, Danni had to admit it wasn’t bad to have a surrogate father figure around. Under different circumstances, being the lone female in a group of guys – more often than not far from civilization – could have been a daunting prospect. Fortunately, she had lucked out. Francis was happily married to his high school sweetheart. Mitchell was single but also a stringent workaholic – far more interested in their case files than his social life.
That left Derek. Though sixteen years her senior, he was smart, brave, and good-looking. Had he acted any differently toward her, she wasn’t entirely certain she would have been turned off by the prospect. Certainly many of the female fans of their show thought the same way, based on the opinions left in online forums.
However, he had quickly nipped any such thoughts in the bud, taking on a decisively parental attitude with her from the very start.
Danni understood. Though Derek didn’t talk about it much, and usually tried his best to keep an upbeat tone, he still felt guilty over the events that had led to her joining the team. It was a feeling she shared. After all, her beloved brother Harrison had saved both their lives from the rabid beasts which had threatened them all, only to then be taken away from her forever.
Though Derek had offered her a spot on the team afterward, he had never quite gotten used to exposing her to the dangers the job entailed ... something her actions today didn’t help. Still, there was no way around it. They all answered to a higher power, the U.S. government, and in doing so had signed on to put themselves at risk for the good of others.
She pushed those thoughts from her head once she reached her quarters and unpacked her laptop. Though stable internet access wasn’t exactly common this far north, the risks of her job also came with some perks – such as the portable high-gain satellite dish currently mounted on top of the building.
As the computer booted up and established a connection, Danni turned to the framed photograph of her brother that she brought along on every mission. “We got another one, Harrison. Wherever you are, I hope I’m making you proud.” She said a quick prayer, then turned to her work. Though she would eternally love her brother, she also realized he’d be pissed if she spent her days moping around because of him. She had a life to live and planned on doing so ... even while facing creatures that mostly wanted to end it.
Living that life, however, meant dealing with the more mundane aspects of it. In joining Derek’s crew, Danni had accepted that she’d be leaving her college career behind. A life on the road wouldn’t leave a lot of time for pursuing her degree ... or so she had thought.
Not so. Danni’s parents, still grieving over her brother, had absolutely flipped out at the thought. Unbeknownst to her at the time, they had approached Derek about it. The end result: in addition to all the work she put in for the show and their missions, she also had to take online classes to keep up with her courses. Derek had made that a non-negotiable condition of staying on the team.
Oh, well. As much as the extra work could suck at times, at least Uncle Sam was now footing the bill. All in all, things could have been far worse.
♦ ♦ ♦
Derek excused himself earlier than usual. Danni had been right about the local swill tasting like fermented whale urine. A few shots in and he was pretty certain he’d be regretting it come morning. Not that it mattered to him much. A slight hangover was pretty light penance for this type of work.
He stepped outside to make the short walk back to the bunkhouse he, Francis, and Mitchell were sharing, but quickly scanned the skies first. His right hand came up and checked for the reassuring weight of the shoulder holster and snub-nosed Ruger it held. These were the moments, the lull following a mission, that haunted his dreams. Though the Bonanza Creek massacre had been an extreme aberration, he never again wanted to make the same mistake. He’d let his guard down and, as a result, a lot of good people had died. Though he knew the chances of a flock of teratorns swooping down upon the village to avenge their fallen comrade were as close to zero as statistically possible, that didn’t mean he wanted to be caught unawares.
Derek looked skyward for one more moment then blew out a sigh. He knew he needed to stop torturing himself. The past year had been busy, but mostly successful. They’d completed several missions without a single hitch, even with one of their team being a rookie.
He considered that. Danni had definitely made a rookie mistake earlier, one that had nearly scared him to death. But the truth of the matter was she’d been right. There was a good chance they’d have missed their window of opportunity had she not offered herself up as live bait, something he couldn’t pretend to have never done. Calculated risk was a part of the job, and it wasn’t like she was just some kid in off the streets.
After recruiting her, he’d called in some favors and sent her to Fort Bragg for several weeks of intense training. Since then, she had more than proven her worth. What she lacked in experience, she made up for with hard work and bravado. Despite her age, their backers had granted her a badge and a sufficient clearance rating for field work – albeit she was still considered an agent-in-training.
There was also the fact that she got along well with the others, fitting right in. Heck, Frank’s wife had practically adopted her.
They’d gotten lucky in that the show’s producers loved her, too. She was personable and worked well on camera. It also didn’t hurt that she hadn’t punched out any of their fans, as Chuck Wayans, their former tracker, had been known to do on occasion.
All of that aside, though, Derek couldn’t help shake the feeling that his actions had pulled her away from the life she’d been meant to live – a life where she could see her friends on the weekend and indulge in a steady boyfriend. One in which she didn’t have to worry about nightmare creatures constantly trying to disembowel her.
♦ ♦ ♦
Derek reached the bunkhouse, took one last look at the empty sky, and stepped in. Tomorrow, they’d pack up their things and take their leave of the elders – who’d been exceptionally pleased at the gift of the creature’s claw. After that, it was time to move on to their next assignment.
Fortunately, official missions didn’t always coincide with their production schedule. Cryptids weren’t always running amuck and killing people. As a result, a good portion of their travels involved little more than shooting wilderness footage, interviewing locals, and making sure to steer clear of any conclusive evidence.
They planned on flying down to Wisconsin next to film an episode on the monster of Bray Road, the scene of purported werewolf sightings. Derek had studied the evidence and concluded it had all the hallmarks of misidentification. A couple of people had been spooked by something, probably a bear, and from there the story had taken on a life of its own. Then, years later, a cleverly hoaxed film had reignited interest in the subject. All in all, it was a cakewalk. They’d do a night hunt and then reanalyze the evidence, leaving just enough doubt for the next group of investigators who wanted to come along and give it some attention.
Or at least, that’s what he assumed they’d be doing.
Derek entered his room with the intent of sacking out, but instead saw the blinking light on their satellite phone, indicating a message had been left. The phone was government issued. His producers neither had its number nor knew of its existence. That wasn’t good. His contacts typically didn’t call to shoot the breeze.
“What now?” he mumbled to himself as he picked it up and started dialing.