The Getaway Camp

It's that time of the week again - Friday! All week I was at work stuck in my dingy beige cubicle thinking that it'd be nice if I could take off for a day or two, and I came up with this story. I hope it is enjoyable to you.

The Getaway Camp 

It was late in the afternoon when we arrived at the cabin. It was the first time I had made the trip out. My buddy Brad had purchased it about eight months earlier. He was much more of an outdoors guy than myself. He had wanted a place where he could get away for the weekend, out of the city for a bit of hunting and fishing. I never mentioned it, but I had my suspicions that he was bringing along an occasional friend of the female persuasion. I made special note to not broach the subject as well in front of his wife Kay. Kay; from everything I had seen could get pretty angry. 

Speaking of angry, that was how the sky was starting to look. I was a bit doubtful when I saw Brad’s cabin. It was a small cedar shake from sometime around the twenties. The roof looked a little worse for wear, but Brad assured me it was much more solid than it looked. The front porch was appealing, with large rockers set out and a beautiful view of the lake. Chris, our other friend would be thrilled when he arrived tomorrow as he was an avid fisherman. Brad had spoken of the lake but his words did not do it justice. 

The lake was ringed with birch and then as the woods got thicker it turned to heavier growth of old pines with thick brush undergrowth that began with green ferns and grass by the water’s edge. It was a perfect hunting camp, but Brad wouldn’t have accepted anything less. We were about thirty miles out of town. The cabin was nestled in a small clearing next to the lake, but the whole area was ringed with low hills common to that part of the state and we were surprisingly isolated. I reflected on that as I grabbed the cooler and a few other essentials out of the back of the Dodge. Brad unlocked the rough pine door, and taking in our belongings, I got my first good look at the interior. 

Rough pine flooring featured throughout the cabin with an open style ceiling of planks and large knotted beams. It was ageless somehow. There was an impressive natural stone fireplace. The furniture was a bit dated, like the plaid couch or the cracked leather chairs with old afghans thrown across them. The kitchen was recently updated and well stocked which was good. There were four bedrooms in all, with good size beds and dressers, all hand made in a pioneer style. I made a comment to Brad about how his girlfriend from back in our first year of high school would’ve loved it. 

“Oh, yeah Jean would’ve freaked out over this place! Man, I haven’t thought about her in a long time. I should look her up online sometime. She moved to some crap hole town called Braeforth. That’s why I started seeing Kay.” 

“And Angela and Stacy,” I quipped. 

“Yeah, until Kay almost found out! It was bad enough when Stacy and Angela began comparing notes.” 

“I guess talking your way out of that one is how you became interested in being a lawyer!” We smiled at one another, cracked a couple of brews and finished unpacking. Afterwards we took a walk down to the lake. Brad showed me where his green Old Town canoe was stored, along with any fishing gear we’d need in a small rough shed nestled amongst the birches. We decided to do some casting from the lake edge for now, just to see if we could catch our supper. Brad wandered a little off to my right and I looked at the lake before me. I didn’t expect to catch much from shore where it wasn’t very deep. Brad said, out in the canoe near the middle was much better where you could get some decent lake trout. I was thinking of walking out onto the small dock, when I caught a stench coming out of the ferns. I could hear the flies buzzing and recognized the smell of death. I called out to Brad who reeled in and came right over.  

“Ew, what the hell Mark? Oh God, I wonder what it is?” He said through his arm held up to cover his mouth and nose. I used the end of my rod to gently part the ferns so we could take a look. It was what remained of a deer. The stomach, swollen with gas, glared at me like an eye. The flies buzzed around and walked across the body. Organs had been spilled out onto the grass. Something had ripped the poor animal open and two of the legs were completely gone. Pieces of the meat were torn away. It wasn’t a fresh kill, but probably less than a day and a half. Brad looked at me, “Bear you think?” 

“Well, it’s possible, but take a look at those tracks in the mud, do those look like bear to you?” I pointed out the impressions in the soft mud. They did not look like bear tracks at all to me. They were very misshapen.  

“Whatever it was is pretty big, and going fast maybe? These tracks aren’t very clear. Maybe there’s a clear one close by.” Brad snapped a couple of pics with his cell phone. We looked along the trail left by whatever animal had attacked the deer, and walked along the lake. None of the tracks were very clear, and as it was going to be dark soon we were almost ready to head indoors when finally we came across a clear set, which made us exchange a look. Brad slowly lifted his phone again, taking a video and several more pics. 

He said,”Do you see what I see?” 

I nodded, gulped and replied, “Let’s get inside and we can talk about it over supper. We never even put the rods away, just walked right into the cabin and leaned them by the door. Right there against the wall already, was a large door bar. Brad picked it up and lifted into position, securing the exit. It was now sunset and we heated up some canned ravioli and sat down at the kitchen table to eat and talk. I asked Brad for a better look at the pictures he had taken. 

We could both clearly see what looked like a giant human footprint, but neither of us wanted to say the word for the animal that we were thinking in our heads; the one with feet, that were big. We spoke more about bears, but it was clearly not a bear print. We determined though, that Chris would arrive tomorrow and we would settle it then as to what it was. 

We decided that with the possibility of any large wild creature about, we should both keep an eye out and take precautions to not leave anything tempting about the property. We weren’t afraid of course, just unsettled by what we had discovered. We decided to put our fears to rest and went out on the porch to listen to the night sounds, catch up on life events and have a smoke and a drink in the rockers. We always enjoyed our cigars.  

Soon, as the smoke wafted overhead and the smell of tobacco surrounded us, we were chatting away about the plans for the weekend. It was not hunting season, but we were there to fish with Chris. We discussed plans though for coming up again in a couple of months and getting in some good hunting. I asked how Kay was getting along. 

“Don’t know, don’t care! I am on a weekend and the ball and chain is gone! Seriously though Kay’s alright, but when I’m out here it has been made clear for her to lay off and leave me be. This is my time to decompress from work and other stuff. We made a deal of no contact when I am out here. But,” He gave a pause, pulled out his phone and waggled it in the air,  “I agreed to let her track me on this. She knows exactly where I am all the time.” 

“Wow man, I am surprised you’d let yourself get tied down like that!” 

“Nah, no big deal man. Besides, when I’m in town my assistant will take this phone anywhere I ask her to and I have three burner phones!” He put the phone back in his pocket. Then a strange look passed over his face and he stood up looking out from the porch, surveying the trees, “Say, it’s gotten real quiet hasn’t it?” 

I listened. Everything was still. All the sounds of the forest had stopped and even the air was still. A fish jumped out in the lake and we both kind of gave a start, and chuckled at one another. As this occurred, something suddenly sailed through the air hitting the deck with a loud thwack sound! It was a round rock about three inches across which rolled to a stop near my foot. It was as if this was a signal of sorts for as soon as it happened, from at least three distinct points in the trees around the cabin arose a beating drum like sound as if someone, or some thing, was banging against the tree trunks. 

“Get inside, quick!” shouted Brad, and we ran inside bolting the door, and replacing the bar. Fortunately each of the windows had shutters inside and out for security reasons against vandals. We shuttered each of the windows, barring them as well. Outside we could hear the knocking continue, as it built up to a frenzy and then became more random, here and then there around the sides of the cabin, but ever so slowly coming closer. 

Brad, when he had purchased the cabin had the electricity updated and one thing he had not overlooked was to put in a green enameled barn light out by the small dock, and another to illuminate the drive into the cabin where we had parked the Dodge. He ran to the light switches for these, turning them on. We could easily look out through gaps in the shutters, now seeing the lit up surroundings in front of us. When the lights came to life, howls, high pitched yelps and guttural grunts erupted from whatever was out there still keeping to the trees. It was I think some strange language of sorts and I feared what these invaders would do next. Then I realized that they most likely thought the same. That we were the invaders, having driven into their territory earlier. It may be that this wilderness around the cabin was one of the last places these creatures survived. 

“Brad, we need to get out of here,” I said, “Why don’t we make a run for the truck?” 

“What the fuck Mark, are you crazy?” Brad looked at me, “Think about it, we don’t know how many there are, we haven’t seen them, we don’t know what they are or how fast they are, and what if they are armed?” 

Brad began to build up the fire in the fire place, adding a couple of more logs, “In here, we have protection, guns. No way I am going out there. I say we use the guns if we need to. We can shoot out between the shutters. If these are big foot or big feet, whatever you call them, and we bag one of them, we’ll be famous. I bet if we can shoot one, the others will take off.” 

We aimed our shotguns out the spaces between the windows, watching for any sign of movement. It was now about eight o’clock in the evening so pretty dark. We could hear some sounds of movement in the brush and the howling continued. More rocks began to be thrown, hitting the cabin and knocking out both lights. 

“Shit Mark, can’t see a thing now. What do you wanna do?” 

“I say we just wait them out for now. If they come at the cabin, then we’ll be able to shoot.” I couldn’t see anything but dark. I could hear them though circling the cabin. Something struck the outside wall with a loud knock and it was followed by a thud as something leapt into the bed of the Dodge.  

What followed was the crushing sounds of the absolute massacre of the old red Dodge truck. We winced at the sounds, realizing the absolute inhuman strength of these beasts. In the darkness we couldn’t see a thing. Brad fired a shot in the direction of the action, but it went unheeded as far as we could tell. 

What were we going to do? At least we seemed safe. The cabin was a solid, recently renovated, well stocked structure. We decided to, in the end just wait for sunrise and keep still and quiet. Brad made a phone video explaining the situation and recording the sounds from outside as best he could. We both agreed that no one would believe his video. It made me think about any of the online stuff I had scoffed at. 

The sun began to rise, and it lit up the lake so beautiful in the early morning. The Dodge was a mangled mess. Those things had really done a number on it. Now it was light out, there they were just like gorillas in the zoo. They sat in a group of eight. There were three females and five males. One of the females we could tell was very old. After seeing them, sitting there clicking at one another, gesturing, there was no way we could fire on them. We wanted to take another video but Brad’s phone had died and the charger had been in the Dodge. 

We were fascinated with these big, hairy creatures. They could stand and stretch, looking thin in the light and easily blend in with the trees, or they could quickly drop to all fours and then into an incredibly almost prone position allowing them to easily hide in the low brush as well. They were the best camouflaged animal I’d ever seen and we were both impressed that we were given this opportunity to see them. They hung around in the grass by the cabin all morning, rolling, stretching, sunning themselves in the sun at the edge of the lake. We did our best to keep completely quiet, but around quarter to noon, something stirred everything up again. 

It was the sound of a vehicle driving up on the gravel road. The bigfoot creatures quickly faded into the low surrounding brush as a Jeep Wrangler pulled into the clearing and our friend Chris hopped out. He stood by his vehicle, looking at the lake, admiring it, thinking of all the fish, then turned and saw the mangled remains of our truck, the shut up cabin, rocks, and marks in the grass. He brought up a hand, removed his ball cap and scratched his head, wonderingly. That was how they caught him so easily. One just stood up from the ferns, and in a leap was dragging him across the gravel, shaking him and scrapping him across the loose rocks. He howled, but they howled louder. All eight reappeared as if ready for a confrontation. They began to play with Chris. One had the hat he had removed earlier. It was fascinated with it, turning it over and over, not quite sure what to do with it. The others poked and prodded Chris. He swatted at them, feebly, told them no, but they would not listen. He became their toy and it went on for a long time, as they pulled off clothes, yanked on his arms, casually snapped his leg with a sickening crunch. They dragged it out, a bite on the shoulder, then a slap across the face. He played dead on the ground, as they poked him with twigs until one of the females tore off an ear. That made him scream, and they all went into a frenzy like the night before. Soon not much remained of our friend Chris. 

We remained quiet in the cabin, just hoping to get away. We watched as they tore at Chris’ body. I noticed the keys to the Jeep fall onto the grass, and pointed it out to Brad. It was beginning to turn dusk again, and finally they turned away and filed off amongst the birches, just fading off, back again as legends. We made a break for it, grabbing up the keys and getting control of that Jeep was the best feeling ever as we tore out of camp and back towards civilization. 

Turns out though, Brad wasn’t as good a lawyer as he thought he was. We reported everything, but no one takes bigfoot seriously. I mean, a few crackpots did, but we had nothing but a cell phone video of some noises and a squishy photo of a footprint in the mud. We never even thought to put anything beside the footprint for a size reference. All we had was a torn up friend. They accused us of chopping him up with an axe. There was no murder weapon so they claimed we had tossed it into the lake.  We were arrested for Chris’ murder. The police said it was premeditated, but that our bigfoot cover was the stupidest thing they’d ever heard. The judge agreed. We had no idea, no suspicions at all, and it was an absolute shock for Brad especially to discover that Chris had been sleeping with his wife Kay. That’s why they thought we had planned his murder. Seems everyone knew but me and Brad. They even made a television movie about us. The Bigfoot Affair. It sucked if you want my opinion. 

So now, here I sit in a prison cell, for a murder I never committed. We escaped the woods that day, but those bigfoot creatures still managed to take our lives. You just never know, go figure.