Case File 13 #3 (5 page)

Nick had to agree.

Angelo snapped a couple of pictures with his iPad and wrote something in his monster notebook. “If it wanted to attack us, it would have done it already.”

“That's what the kids always say in slasher movies before the bad guy cuts off their heads,” Carter said. “Come on, Nick, let's wake up your parents.”

Angelo put away his iPad and brushed pine needles off his hands. “What do you expect his parents to do?”

“Get us out of here,” Nick said. “The faster the better.” Every tree swaying or branch creaking was making him jump.

“That's assuming they believe us,” Angelo said. “It's not like we've ever made up anything like this before. Right?”

Nick rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. There
was
the time they spread chicken bones around the neighborhood to make it look like something was eating pets. And the time Carter swore he'd been attacked by a lightsaber-wielding alien to get out of a math test. And all three of them got suspended the time they dug up the front lawn of the school, filled the hole with torn clothes, and left muddy footprints leading up to the front door. So he supposed there was a chance his parents might think they had faked this too.

“Even if they
do
believe you,” Angelo said, “do you really want to leave here and give up the chance of a lifetime? The chance to track down a real live Sasquatch and get it on film?”

Nick couldn't believe what he was hearing. “You're saying you want to go after it?” They were all crazy about monsters. But this was bordering on complete lunacy.

Angelo patted his notebook against his leg. “Not tonight. It's probably long gone by now anyway. Let's clean up this mess so your parents don't suspect anything, go back to bed, and scout around in the morning.”

“How are we supposed to go back to sleep knowing that thing might come back and rip our arms off like chicken wings?” Carter asked.

Angelo held out his notebook. “There are no documented attacks of a Bigfoot on a human. They do their best to avoid us.”

“And I want to do my best to avoid them,” Carter said.

Nick looked down at the footprint. A real Sasquatch print. “If we did get it on film, would we be famous?”

Angelo grinned. “Are you kidding? They'd probably name a museum after us or something.”

Carter sniffed. “I'd rather have a fast-food place named after me. Carter's Burgers and Shakes. Home of the Gargantuan Burger.” He took the cookie package from Nick and looked inside with a disgusted frown. “Bigfoot is a total pig. It didn't leave a single crumb behind.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Nick said. He gave one last look at the footprint and nodded. “Okay, let's do it.”

Shivering in his sleeping bag, Nick was sure he would be awake all night. Every time a twig cracked outside or a gust of wind rattled the tent, he sat up, convinced he was about to be devoured. It wasn't until he heard Carter say, “What's that amazing smell?” that he realized he had fallen asleep.

Although the air was still cold, morning sunlight filtered through the trees, making shadows on the roof of the tent.

“At least we made it through the night without getting eaten by any Bigfeet,” Nick said, unzipping his sleeping bag.

Angelo began grabbing equipment from his duffel bag and stuffing it into his backpack. “Actually, the plural of Bigfoot is still Bigfoot, not Bigfeet. And I told you, Bigfoot don't eat humans.”

Maybe that was true, but Nick didn't want to be the first person to disprove the theory through personal experience.

Carter pulled on his shoes. “Speaking of eating, I'm almost sure I smell pancakes.”

“The fluffiest pancakes this side of Broken Nose, Minnesota,” a voice called out.

Nick unzipped the tent door to see his dad sitting in front of the camp stove beside a crackling fire. He was wearing an apron that read, “Don't Kiss the Cook. Like Him on Facebook.”

“What's so special about Broken Nose, Minnesota?” Carter asked as he climbed out of the tent.

Nick winced—knowing his dad was about to launch into one of his crazy stories.

“Why, it's only the home of the fluffiest pancakes in the world!” Dad said. “It's a special combination of the latitude, the water, and a secret ingredient no one from the outside has yet discovered. But the batter is so light they actually used it in building the space shuttle.”

Angelo wrinkled his nose. “There aren't any pancakes in the space shuttle.”

“Well, not anymore. That's why the space program is in such bad shape.” Dad lifted a pancake from the griddle with his spatula and flipped it into the air. The pancake flew over his head, hit a tree branch, and landed in the dirt behind him. He shook his head wistfully. “Definitely not space shuttle material.”

Mom climbed out of the tent and took the spatula. “Why don't I finish the pancakes while you get the plates and silverware out of the car?”

“Keep a close eye on them,” Dad said. “They're culinary masterpieces.” Pulling his keys from his pocket, he winked at the boys. “Don't think we didn't hear you three trying to get into the car last night.”

Nick shot a quick glance at his friends. His parents had heard the Bigfoot too. Angelo gave a slight shake of his head. It wasn't obvious enough for Nick's parents to see, but Nick got the message. They couldn't let Mom and Dad know what had really made the noises. “Uhh, yeah. We were kind of hungry.”

Dad tapped his head. “I expected that. But the old man was too smart for you. I locked the car before we went to bed.”

“You couldn't have,” Carter blurted. But Angelo put a finger to his lips.

Nick followed his father to the car. Sure enough, the doors were all locked.

“I was a boy once too,” Dad said as he opened the back of the car and began grabbing plastic forks and paper plates. “There wasn't a place your grandmother hid sweets where I couldn't find them. Of course back then we didn't have the kind of candy you boys do now. We were lucky if we got honey-coated chicken gizzards.”

“Don't believe him,” Mom called, turning the pancakes. “When I married him he'd never seen a candy bar he didn't like.”

“I'd try a honey-coated gizzard,” Carter said. “Especially if it was on a pizza.”

Nick pulled Angelo away toward the trees. “If the car was locked, how did the creature get the Oreos and gummy worms?”

Angelo lowered his head in thought. “Maybe your dad missed one of the doors?”

“And what, Bigfoot locked it after he got done stealing the food? I checked the car just now and they were all locked. Even the windows were open only an inch or so. There's no way anything could get inside.” There was definitely something weird going on.

“Let's eat,” Dad said. Juggling cups, plates, plastic utensils, syrup, and a carton of orange juice, he started back toward the campfire. Halfway there, he began to lose his grip. Nick and Carter darted forward just as everything began to fall. Nick grabbed the plates and cups while Carter snagged the juice and made a diving grab for the syrup.

“Good catch,” Dad said.

Carter grinned. “I'd give my life for syrup.”

Mom dished scrambled eggs and pancakes onto everyone's plates. “We thought we'd head down to the beach right after breakfast.”

“Actually, we were kind of hoping we could explore around here for a couple of hours,” Nick said. He quickly turned to his father. “You know, because this is such an amazing campground you found.”

Dad beamed. “I can't take
all
the credit. I mean, I
was
the one who saw the sign. And I
did
keep going when everyone else wanted to turn back. But other than that it was nothing anyone else wouldn't have done.”

Mom stared into the woods. “I don't know. I don't like the idea of you boys wandering around by yourselves. You could get lost.” She pressed her lips together. “Maybe if your dad went with you.”

“No need,” Angelo said at once. He reached into his pack and pulled out what looked like a handheld video game system. “I brought a GPS. We couldn't get lost if we tried. I also brought a compass, a map of the woods, whistles in case of emergency, and a seventy-two-hour kit.”

Mom looked impressed. “Maybe we'll have you pack for all of us from now on. And make the reservations.”

Ignoring her jab, Dad waved toward the trees. “Have a good time, boys, but be back in two hours. Who knows, maybe you'll discover a new species out there.”

Eating the last of his eggs, Nick thought,
As long as it doesn't discover us first.

“That was a close one,” Carter said as they hiked through the forest.

“No kidding,” Angelo said. “As much as Nick's dad talks, we'd have zero chance of sneaking up on anything.”

Nick tried to act offended. But the truth was his dad did talk a lot. “At least if we found something dangerous, he could put it to sleep with one of his stories.” He looked at Angelo's bulging pack. “Do you really have all the stuff you said in there?”

Angelo pushed a few buttons on his GPS and nodded. “That and a lot more. I didn't mention the remote-controlled video recorder, DNA-collection kit, or digital binoculars.”

Nick snorted. “You know, most people bring things like fishing poles and Frisbees on camping trips.”

“Which is why most people never bring back any actual evidence when they come across a Sasquatch.” Angelo knelt to the ground, examined the terrain, and pulled out his binoculars. “What we have to figure out is which direction to go.”

“This way,” Carter said from about twenty feet to their left.

“How could you possibly know that?” Angelo asked.

Carter placed a finger against the side of his head and gave a thoughtful pose. “Follow the evidence, young Padawan,” he said around a mouthful of food.

Angelo gave him a scornful look. “What kind of evidence?”

“What's that you're eating?” Nick asked. “I thought all your snacks were back in the car.”

“Oreos,” Carter said. He ran about twenty yards ahead and picked something up. “There's a trail of them.” He brushed the dirt off a cookie and popped it into his mouth.

Angelo raced to the spot and stared at Carter. “You've been following a trail of cookies since we left the camp?”

“A couple of them looked a little chewed on.” Carter grinned—his teeth black with chewed-up Oreos. “But they taste just fine. Bigfoot don't have germs, do they?”

Angelo put his hands on his head. “You're eating evidence! And you didn't take pictures.”

“It's an Oreo,” Carter said, licking a crumb from his finger. “You want a picture of it, go into any grocery store.”

“None of this makes sense,” Nick said. “First, a monster breaks into a locked car without leaving any marks. Then, instead of rummaging through everything, it picks out gummy worms and a package of Oreos, which it carefully leaves a trail of for us to follow. Does this sound like anything you've seen in your Bigfoot research?”

Angelo wrote furiously in his notebook. “We're obviously dealing with a very intelligent being.”

Nick watched Carter searching for the next cookie. “Intelligent enough to set a trap?”

Carter stopped. “Say what?”

“Think about it,” Nick said. “We've invaded its territory. If it's smart enough to break into a locked car, couldn't it also be smart enough to lead us into a trap? One minute we're following a trail of Oreos. The next minute we're falling into a pit filled with sharp sticks or getting smashed by a boulder poised to roll down on us the minute we step on the wrong spot.”

Angelo chewed his lower lip. “We don't know very much about their species. But the fact that they've managed to stay undiscovered this long does suggest a rather high IQ.”

Carter stood with one foot frozen in midair. “You couldn't have thought about this
before
I started following the trail?”

“That's assuming it didn't put anything
on
the cookies,” Angelo said. “If it really wanted to get rid of us, it could coat them with an odorless, tasteless poison.”

Carter groaned. “My stomach feels kind of weird.”

“It couldn't have anything to do with the fact that you ate about thirty pancakes,” Nick said. “If Bigfoot wanted to poison us, it could have put something in our food when it broke into the car.”

“You think it poisoned the pancakes too?” Carter asked, his eyes wide. “The cookies
and
the pancakes? I'm a goner for sure.”

“It didn't poison anything,” Nick said. “The question is, why did it leave a trail for us and what do we do about it?”

Angelo rubbed his chin. “I say we follow the trail. But take precautions.”

“What kind of precautions?” Nick asked.

“Here,” Angelo said, taking a rope from his backpack. “We'll tie this to each other. If one of us steps on some kind of trap, the other two can save him.”