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Authors: Miranda Wheeler

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“So it’s dangerous?” she clarified.

“We think they’re omnivores, but I’ve neve
r heard of anyone
being eaten by one,” Rowley’s voice teased. “In case things go
wrong, everyone in the area is trained to handle the worst. Usually
we can keep the expeditions isolated from human interference. We
work to reinforce posts on protective laws in supported regions so
it’s a haven from hunters. It’s really important to keep their habitats
intact and the numbers up in their species, since they’re so rare and
we know so little about them.”

“They’re just regular animals, then?” Aly asked. “They’re not
halfhuman like the legend says?”

“Of course not. We think they’re a plain old North American
primate – which is pretty amazing in and of itself. It’s totally
possible. We think they’re a descendent of Gigantopithecus, adapted
to a different environment. See, Giganto probably migrated from the
Bering land bridge. Chinese apothecaries often hunted the big guys
and sold them as dragon’s teeth for pagan rituals.” Eyes wide, he
added, “No wonder then ran over, right?”

Aly had to laugh. She understood little of what he said, but his
joy was contagious. The way Rowley spoke reminded her of Noah
when he told his stories, filled with expression and details of
idiosyncrasy. It occurred to Aly that her mother was the same way,
when rattling off odd facets of her workday or imitating doctors to
force humor into their fears.

I wish they hadn’t been so valid.

Noah reminded Aly of a happier life. It was never easy, with
school perpetually awkward and her only parent consistently nailed
with work at ungodly hours across a myriad of jobs. Even once
Vanessa found schedules in the nine-to-five, jobs were layered with
online classes and culinary seminars, most of it falling away with
sudden hospitalizations. If Greg hadn’t agreed under threats of
faltering child support to maintain the condo fees, she would have
been packed into Francesca’s lower trundle years before stage four.

It’s a wonder he never renounced parental rights.

 

She released he was waiting for her to respond. Blinking to
recover, she inquired, “So, how do you usually find them?”

“Well, you look for high breaks in the trees. Higher, with more
damage than other animals with that mass can do. When the cedar
trees are upside down, we call those inverted. They’re dead
giveaways.”

Her brow knitted, images of the tunnel flashing through her
head.

 

“But how would you even know where to look?”

“We follow migration paths based on blank areas in the rest of
the ecosystem. They’re pretty common on premade trails, but many
animals are. It makes it harder to find their tracks. We think they’re
soft-footed, so the grasses spring back after a good rain. Leaf litter is
a problem, too,” Rowley sighed, shifting through the photographs
again.

“It sounds impossible,” Aly commented, confused and
disbelieving.

 

These people do this for a living with no luck. It came so easily
for us.

“Nah, it’s easier because we’re trained. Like, you can't just cast a
footprint– you have to splatter cast it, which distributes the weight
so it doesn’t dilute or disturb the original shape, which is
so
important. Plus, we’re hooked up with the best. We have H.D. – high
definition, I.R. – infrared, refractory, digital, and stealth cams, audio
recorders, shotgun microphones… all sorts of stuff. We get closer all
the time. We’ve coordinated with a myriad of other researchers in all
corners of the world.” Rowley’s eyes sparkled from behind his boxy
glasses, his skinny arms waving in excitement. “There’s a staggering
amount
of
encounters.
Did you know
even
Jane
Goodall
was
interested, even believing, in the species?”

Why haven’t they found it, too? This is so bizarre.

 

“Why don’t more people know about it then?”

“It’s denounced as myth without looking at the evidence most of
the time, unfortunately. I think a lot of credible researchers shy away
from our work because it leads to tarnished names so quickly,
leaving the entire theory unchallenged beyond the ancient alien
theorist distortions.” He winced. “They just kill us sometimes. Well,
figuratively.”

“Even here though, where everyone’s supposed to be looki
ng for
evidence, it seems like half the people here don’t even buy it.” She
bit her lip, remembering the fragments she had overheard.

“It’s not that they don’t believe, although it’s not the world I’d
use – more like, it’s like… knowing, it’s that they don’t believe
you,” Rowley offered apologetically. “You’d think that dedicating
their careers to this would make them inclined to put more thought
than external factors into the mix.”

“Right,” Aly said, “My dad.”
“No offense, Alyson, but everyone pretty much hates him,”
Rowley confessed, quickly adding, “Sorry.”

A laugh burst from her chest, alleviating the tension in her
shoulders for a moment. His face twisted with concern, unsure
whether to alter his statement. She waved off his silent concerns.
“Honestly? You have no idea how literal ‘everyone’ is.”

“I shouldn’t have said that.” He scratched his head. “It’s slander.
I was trying to convey that whatever issue everyone has, you’re not
the problem.”

“Well, thank you, Rowley. That makes me feel better.”

“I’ve got to say, if this is what you think it is, it’s really amazing.
This could change everything. If you’re… serious, I guess, you
should fight for this.”

“You mean if I’m telling the truth, I should press my story?” She
raised her brow, a smile teasing the corners of her lips. He nodded,
sheepish. “Thanks. I’ll keep it in mind.”

“I think Adam’s waiting for you in the hall.” He cupped one
hand to block the other, pointing through his palm at the swish of
people through the double-doors to the left.

“Rowley Banes!” a woman’s voice, shrill and pitching, echoed
through the lobby.

He
froze, offering
an
expression of
mock-horror. Stepping
backwards, slowly with dramatic leg lifts, he looked like an actor
from a silent movie. His face twisted into an outlandish expression.
She covered her lips with widespread fingers as though it covered
her giggles as he winked, spinning on his heel to disappear through
the door of the men’s bathroom. His name kept ringing through the
halls until a pretty Asian girl ran through, awkwardly sliding around
in oversized tan flats. She flashed Aly a look of desperation. With
her clipboard tucked under her arm, she disappeared in the room
after him, ignoring the metallic sign announcing gender-specifics.

Unsure if she could control her laughter if Rowley ended up
dragged out by the ear, Aly headed towards the hallway where she’d
seen the doctors go through. Both doors were propped open with
wooden wedges. A man and a woman dressed in frumpy work attire
sat in close proximity. Their voices traveled, too loud for their
lifeless expressions.

Feigning patience, Aly waited in the doorway.

“The report holds: distinct saginal crest, approximately between
eight feet and eight and a half feet tall, blurred motion, visible eyeshine,” his voice was monotone.

“Seems feasible.”

“It could’ve been a deer,” Adam offered.
“Distinct saginal crest, eight-foot? Hardly,” the woman scoffed.
“There was a statement issued claiming reports consistent hold
reason to believe the eyes have cones, similar to canines, that assist
in night seeing for nocturnal behaviors.”

“Was that another forum comment, an anonymous tip, a
theory…? Or was it actually, specifically circulated by the B.F.R.O.
this time?” He snickered.

“Irrelevant,” she muttered, squaring her shoulders.

“Maggie,” he stated. She balled her fists, resting them on her
hips. As he nodded towards the door, Maggie swiveled around. Aly
realized he wasn’t reprimanding his partner, but instead announcing
her presence.

Maggie stood briskly, smoothing the fabric of her tan slacks and
extending a hand. As she moved, bleached wisps fell from the
redheaded bun knotted at the nape of her neck. Aly accepted the
shake. The grip was too firm, as painful as the woman’s strained
expression. Maggie’s dragon-clawed nails left deep imprints in Aly
palm.

“You must be Gregory’s daughter,” Adam offered, smiling
tightly. When Aly stepped forward to enter the room, his head
cocked to the side. “I don’t see the resemblance.”

She leveled her gaze with his. He blanched.

 

It’s always in the eyes.

“Take a seat, Miss Glass. I’m Doctor Margaret Stone, this is
Doctor Adam Birnbaum,” Maggie presented, her chest inflating with
confidence at their titles, the only waver in the monotone.

“I’d introduce myself, but it seems unnecessary,” Aly said,
carefully selecting each word.

With the woman’s arm still outstretched, she took the seat across
from them. Despite the hardwood chairs and red accents, the room
seemed like it belonged with a criminal investigation. She felt like
she was an eye-witness to a homicide rather than an animal sighting.
With the look of death in Maggie’s eyes, perhaps a suspect would be
more fitting.

Aly forced a smile, her chin rising through the intimidation. “I
understand you have questions.”

The doctors turned to each other nervously, sharing a curt nod.
Rather than relaxing, Maggie began to pace and Adam stiffened.
Anxiety crawled up Aly’s spine. She leaned back in her chair, away
from the table. Manila folders were slathered across like background
checks, filled with evidence she thought would be received joyously.

I didn’t do anything wrong. I’ve got to stay calm.

Instead of acceptance, she was being questioned. Noah’s
hesitation and Luke and Owen’s refusal made sense with epiphany-
level clarity. It reminded her of a childhood punishment, where her
mother jerked her chin up with two fingers and demanded, ‘Are we
clear?’

Crystal.

 

In speaking, Aly open the floodgates.

“We have to be extremely selective in what we deem worthy of
investigation, nonetheless what we file as a legitimate claim.”
Maggie’s voice was tight.

“You have to understand that encounters like this are extremely
rare, and from our research, the location seems near impossible,”
Adam frowned. “Not only does the likelihood of a hoax appear to be
incredibly high, seeing as the information here”

“Frankly, it’s too good to be true,” Maggie interrupted. “That is
often the biggest concern in our field. The Patterson-film argument
has been rolling under that argument since it was released. Which is
to say, it’s perplexing how you can suddenly offer so much…
insight. Multiple witnesses, all children of well-versed natives or
specialists, with an eerily consistent story, collecting more evidence
than most in the field can collect in weeks – sometimes more than
what’s uncovered in entire expeditions and reporting it immediately
after the sighting with nearly intact record?”

“That’s a lot of stars falling into place,” Adam continued. “You
also have to consider that reporting it in one of the only areas we
don’t investigate isn’t only convenient, it’s unlikely. From our
decades-old research, we have a basic understanding of the species,
and in an area with such little resources – the ecosystem doesn’t fit.”

“They pull bears out of dumpsters in the midd
le of the city, and
you’ve already ruled that the environment doesn’t fit?” Aly offered,
her voice high. Her nails dug into her elbows. She hadn’t realized
her clasped hands had flexed into crossed arms. It was standoffish
and abrasive, mirroring their passive aggressive monotones. Too
calm, almost airily, she murmured, “Unbelievable.”

They’re just like my father – trying to make me feel crazy.

“We’re not saying it’s impossible, we’re not even saying you
children are lying,” Adam continued. “We haven’t even factored in
the plentiful abundance of natural factors that could explain it.”

“The plentiful abundance,” Aly repeated offering an
unimpressed stare.

Adam swallowed, pulling
at his turtle neck.
Fidgeting, he
straightened, folding his hands on the table. Maggie paced behind
him.

“We take our jobs seriously, Alyson,” Maggie suggested.
Warnings and implications rolled from her paper thin lips. “Just
think about that for a second.”

I can’t get mad. Just breath.

 

“I don’t need to do anymore thinking,” Aly clarified. “Unless
you’re seeking recollection.”

 

“We’d appreciate it if you would recollect a little harder.”

I don’t really see how trying to be helpful warrants scolding
from two strangers. If they think I need a parent, mine should be
outside somewhere.

She bit her tongue.

 

“Ask away,” Aly replied.

 

Maggie glared.

 

“All right,” Adam cleared his throat, motioning towards her.
“Why do you think your evidence is real?”

 

Aly quirked a brow. “That’s your job, right? To find out if he’s
real?”

 

“We’re attempting,” he said flatly. “Let me paraphrase. Why
should we spend our time investigating your case?”

 

“Let me paraphrase,” Aly repeated, “You want me to justify to
you why you should believe me.”

 

“Inevitably,” Adam confessed. “It’s suspicious.”

“You could start by ex
plaining why I need to defend myself to
you. All I did was make a report. It’s a wonder you get anywhere
with this research, choking the life out of everyone who offers you
anything. Except, of course, you don’t, because Greg’s my long-lostfather who everyone hates. I get it, okay?” She groaned, burying her
face in her hands. Look up suddenly, she tucked a curl behind her
ear. “You guys have forensic scientists and everything, right?”

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