Voracious (10 page)

The ranger’s mouth opened. “A murder?” he repeated.

“Yes.”

He dropped his fork, and it clattered on the wooden floor. “Oh, my. I’d better call a ranger.”

Madeline furrowed her brow. “Aren’t you a ranger?” She looked at his uniform pointedly. The man was dressed in a khaki pants and khaki shirt, a National Park patch sewn onto his sleeve.

The man looked flustered. “I’m an interpretive ranger. We need a law enforcement ranger.”

“Oh,” she said and squinted as a flash of pain pulsed in her head. “I didn’t know there was a difference.”

“Are you hurt badly?” he asked, gesturing at the bandage.

“I should have someone look at it,” she replied.

He invited her in, and exhausted, she sank onto his couch and rested her hand on the armrest.

Nights spent reading into the wee hours of the morning.

A kiss with a pretty woman with long brown hair.

He went to the phone and dialed a number.

“Suzanne?” she heard him say from the other room. “I’ve got a young woman here who wants to report a murder … Yes, that’s right. Someone’s been killed.”

THE
naturalist, Steve Pashalt, she had learned while waiting, opened the door to admit a wide-faced woman with long blonde hair in a tight braid. She, too, was dressed in a park service uniform, only she carried a gun in a holster around her waist.

“Madeline, this is Suzanne Harrett.”

Madeline got up and shook the woman’s hand, then regretted it almost immediately as the woman all but crushed her fingers. Kind blue eyes twinkled at Madeline, framed by small wrinkles that told Madeline she’d seen a lot of sun in her forty-odd years.

“Just tell her what you saw.”

Steve himself hadn’t heard the story yet. They’d waited until the law officer arrived. Now she was here, and Madeline found her heart pounding, her hands shaky, and her mouth dry. The request sounded so easy, but to fulfill it, Madeline would have to relive those terrifying moments. She decided to first tell them who had been killed. “It was a backcountry ranger who was murdered,” she told them. Immediately, concern creased their faces. It was one of their own.

“Where?” Suzanne asked.

Steve motioned for them to sit down on the couch. He took the hard metal chair next to it.

“In the backcountry,” Madeline continued, once seated. “At the Glacier Point backcountry station. Mike Z something.”

“Mike Zuwalski,” the two rangers chorused.

“Yes, that’s it.”

The naturalist swallowed. “And you’re sure he’s dead?”

Madeline pictured the man’s body draped over the beam in the vaulted toilet, the blood everywhere, his sightless eyes staring. “Yes.”

“At the station itself?”

She nodded.

“I’m going to radio up there,” the naturalist said, and left the room, the chair’s feet squeaking on the cheap linoleum floor.

For a long tense moment the officer stared at her. “Did you see who killed him?”

She paused, uncomfortable. “Not who …
what.
”

“An animal attack? You mean like a bear?”

Madeline shook her head. “No. Nothing like that.” Madeline felt herself pulled back to those dreaded hours on the mountain when it had pursued her. “It was almost human. Incredibly smart.” She thought of how it cut her off at the ranger station.

The officer looked at her closely. “
Almost
human?”

“Yes. But not quite. It had claws, and these enormous eyes …”

Now the officer looked at her, brow creased. “You know,” she said again, “sometimes it’s hard to identify wildlife correctly.”

Madeline sighed. What was this, a practiced ranger speech? But she herself had overheard enough conversations between park visitors to know the officer told the truth. How many times had Madeline heard people call a pronghorn antelope a deer? Or call a hoary marmot a weasel or a groundhog? Sure, you could mix up a black bear with a grizzly bear, or a coyote with a wolf, but this creature had been no wolf or bear.

“Bears can walk upright,” Suzanne continued, “and in intense situations, people might confuse them with—”

The naturalist came back into the room, a huge grin on his face. “Just raised Mike on the radio,” he said, the look of relief evident on his face. “He says everything’s fine up there.”

“What?” Madeline cried. Bewilderment swept over her, and she looked at them in astonishment.

“You’re sure it was the Glacier Point ranger station,” asked the officer, “and not another one?”

“Positive!” Madeline insisted. “I had a map, and—” Madeline stopped short, suddenly realizing what was happening. It wasn’t Mike the naturalist had talked to. Just as she had never talked to Mike. “You were talking to the creature!” she blurted. “It was the creature on the radio!” So it truly wasn’t dead.

“Creature?” Steve looked at Suzanne in confusion. “It can talk?”

She waved a dismissive hand, as if she would tell him later.

“It was him, don’t you see?” Madeline said desperately.

Suzanne patted her on the shoulder. “Now just calm down. We’ll work this out.”

Steve returned to his seat and said softly and reassuringly, “I’ve known Mike Zuwalski for four years, and I know his voice. It was definitely him on the radio.”

“No! Listen!” Madeline pleaded, shrugging off Suzanne’s hand. “The creature, this thing that killed him, it can appear just like him! I thought it was really the ranger, too, but it wasn’t. Don’t you see?”

Suzanne frowned at Madeline, then stuck her chin out in puzzlement. “What exactly did you see?” She pulled out a notebook and readied to jot down notes.

Madeline took a breath. “I went into the ranger’s station. I talked to the ranger there, Mike, or so I thought. He went into a back room to investigate a strange thumping noise. I went to the bathroom, and when I entered, Mike’s body was hanging from a rafter, and this thing was eating him.”

“Why do you say, ‘Or so I thought’? ” Suzanne pressed, making a note.

“Because the ranger in the bathroom had been dead for some time. The creature eating him was wearing his uniform. It had changed to look like the ranger.”

Suzanne stared at her, then stopped taking notes. “Did you have anyone look at her head wound?” the officer asked Steve, suddenly speaking as if Madeline wasn’t in the room at all.

“No, not yet …”

“I think we need to call Bill out stat.”

“I’ll phone him now,” the naturalist said, and rose from the chair.

“How did you get hurt?” Suzanne asked.

“I was caught in that flash flood, but look, that’s really not the important issue here.”

“Looks like she got hit pretty bad,” Steve put in.

“No!” Madeline practically yelled. “It’s not my head! That thing’s still out there!”

“Now, honey,” the officer said, her tone gentle. “Why don’t you just sit there on the couch and wait for our medical technician? Would you like a cup of tea or a bite to eat?”

Madeline threw up her hands in frustration. “I can’t believe this!” But even as she said it, she knew how crazy her story sounded, especially to people who hadn’t seen the thing, didn’t know what it was capable of.

“We’ll get this all straightened out,” the naturalist said kindly.

Madeline shook her head in disbelief. “You’ve got to send someone up there! No—send a bunch of people up there. Armed people. And ask that thing pretending to be your friend Mike a lot of personal questions. I guarantee you it won’t be able to answer them.”

“We’ll do that tomorrow,” Suzanne told her. “But first we need to get you better.”

“Tomorrow I’ll go myself,” the naturalist offered.

Madeline couldn’t tell if he meant it or not. “Don’t go alone,” she told him. She was so exhausted, and it felt like someone had jabbed a shish kebab skewer directly through her temple. She sighed, wanting the pain to ease. Bringing her fingers to her head, she massaged gently. She had done her part. She had reported the murder. Now she had to protect herself. And if the rangers weren’t going to help her, if the thing came back, she would just have to face it alone.
Or hopefully with Noah,
she thought, suddenly wondering where he was, if he’d found a place to stay. Preferably a place with five bolts on the door and no rafters.

“I’m going to call Bill now,” the naturalist said. Suzanne nodded, and he left the room.

“Do you have a place to stay tonight, honey?” asked the officer.

Madeline nodded. “My friend Noah is finding a place. He should be back any minute.” She sighed. “Did anyone else get caught in the flash flood?”

The ranger’s mouth fell into a grim, gray line. “Three that we know of, aside from you.” She paused. “They, uh … they didn’t make it.”

Madeline’s eyes widened as she thought of the freezing water robbing muscles of strength, filling lungs, tossing bodies into jagged rocks and lethal branches.

“But, everything’s going to be all right for you,” Suzanne added quickly, seeing her response. “You’ll see.”

But her reassurance felt hollow and empty, and despite the rangers around her, symbols of law and safety, Madeline had never felt so alone and scared in her life.

After the medical technician had come and rebandaged her head, he determined she didn’t have a concussion and that she should just get some rest. He gave her some acetaminophen, extra bandages, and first aid tape, and left.

Shortly afterward, as she sat alone with the two rangers again, a rap brought their attention back to the door. In a moment Steve was up and opening it. Noah stood there. She was so glad to see him she almost leapt up and hugged him.

“Noah!” she said, about to launch into the story about how they wouldn’t listen to her, how the creature had convinced them it hadn’t killed their friend.

“I found us a place to stay,” he said before she could get a word out.

She realized he was nervous and didn’t want to talk to the rangers.

“Thanks for your help,” he told the rangers.

“The ranger in question is fine … I radioed him myself,” Steve said to Noah.

“Yes,” Noah said quietly. “It’s just been a long couple of days, and my friend here was really spooked by the flash flood.”

Both rangers nodded, and after thanking them again, Noah led her out and shut the door behind them.

“They wouldn’t listen to me,” Madeline said when they stood alone on the porch.

“It’s just as well.”

“Just as well?” Madeline said incredulously.

He looked every bit as exhausted as she felt. But his bruises looked a little better. Not so dark.

“They would get killed if they went after him. You must see that by now.”

Madeline fell silent. At last she nodded. She looked at him intently. “And you won’t?”

Noah sighed and looked out into the night. “Not if I can help it,” he said softly, more, Madeline thought, to himself than to her.

The only available accommodation in the entire park had been one cabin at the Lake McDonald Alpine Chalets, just a few hundred yards from the Apgar ranger station.

A small cabin set back away from the lake’s edge, next to a burbling creek and surrounded by trees and a few other cabins, it stood right next to Apgar campground. It was a miracle they even got it: someone had canceled a reservation at the last minute. During the summer, accommodation in the park was booked solid. They stood in front of it in the dark, listening to the sounds of night around them: the rush of the creek, a warbling owl in the woods.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t get us each a cabin,” he told her, “but I’ll sleep on the couch.”

She nodded. “Thanks. But I already figured you for a gentleman.” Secretly she was grateful they only had one cabin available. She hadn’t relished the thought of sleeping alone in a strange place tonight.

They went inside. It was a small structure with only a main room and a tiny bedroom. In the center of the living room stood a little wooden lacquered table for eating or playing cards. A couple of folding wooden chairs stood on either side. In one corner of the room sulked an old stuffed chair and couch, upholstered in the ever-popular rough orange brown patterned material that almost came to rule the world in 1972.

They checked the closets and even under the bed at her request. The cabin was small and sparse, built in the ’30s, and the bedroom contained only a bed, desk, and a rickety chair. Bathrooms were in separate buildings, shared by all the guests of the cabins. Madeline had seen one of the structures on the way in, a large, lighted building that looked like it had flush toilets and even hot water. The thought of such luxuries after her ordeal almost made her giddy.

After Noah checked the cabin, she collapsed into a chair. In the soft glow of a table lamp, she could clearly see the concern on Noah’s face and something else: a profound tiredness. He looked over, caught her staring, and she glanced away toward the windows.

They didn’t look very secure. What if the creature came scrambling up the stairs, broke a glass pane in the door, reached in with furtive fingers—

“Will it … come? Here?” she asked at last. “Will it find me?”

“No.” Noah shook his head. “There’s no reason to think that. His attacks are random …” His voice trailed off, eyes fixing on the darkness beyond the windows.

Madeline had the distinct feeling he was lying.

WHILE
Noah unloaded his backpack, Madeline walked the short distance to the bathroom with a toothbrush and toothpaste Noah had bought for her at the campground’s general store. She had no money on her whatsoever; no gear to speak of except what she’d been wearing when the water hit. Her clothes lay drying next to the little heater in the cabin. She was still wearing Noah’s warm fleece. Luckily she had money nearby, however; she’d stashed her wallet under the seat of her car. Tomorrow she’d get a ride to where her car waited, miles down the Going-to-the-Sun Road at the Loop Trailhead. And then she’d go home.

She had done all she could here. She’d notified the rangers, they hadn’t believed her, and Noah was determined to hunt the thing himself. He’d obviously had prior experience with it, and he was still alive, so hopefully he’d be successful. Madeline was lucky she was in one piece, and she felt anxious to go home.