The Search Pt. 01

(Author's Note: So, I wrote this in a single afternoon with the intention of making a one-off for fun. I failed. I trimmed the fat as much as I could, but this will have to be a two-parter at least. I also wrote this in first person; something I HATE. But, I feel like it works. Anyway, let's see how part one does. If you make it to the end and want to see how everything wraps up, please let me know. Otherwise, I'll just concentrate fully on 'Nowhere to Run' and get back to this...eventually. I only hope it gets approved because it's pretty dark.)

The Search: Part 1

There were five of us in total; Yasmin, Gus, Bart, Terry, and myself, Daneela. On a four-cabin campsite, we'd all been crammed into a single cabin. I had already known Yasmin as we were camping together. The other three had been part of their own camping party. Ultimately, we were all hostages.

Yasmin scratched a line in the wall, signifying the end to our third day here. "How much more of this?" she groaned after standing up to pace.

"Who knows," Bart answered. "Based on how much food we had," he made an estimation in his mind, "weeks?"

Gus dragged his hands over his face. "I still can't believe this is real."

Having your camping trip cannibalized was very real and very dangerous, although the fact that it was by Squatchers was a new one. The two of us nature enthusiasts -- Yasmin and myself -- had set aside five days in the Appalachian Mountains for some hiking, outdoor cooking, and star gazing. The three of them just wanted to do whatever it was guys did together on camping trips, which was probably drink, get high, and talk about girls. Unbeknownst to us, a group of Bigfoot hunters were hot on the trail of...something...and felt they couldn't abandon their chase just yet even when their food was starting to run out. So, we were all stuck here, fed the bare minimum, kept on a bathroom schedule, and guarded by two man they called Woody and Minion while the other seven ran off to track whatever it was they'd caught up to.

I walked over to the window by the door and looked outside to see Woody still there and still armed with his shotgun. He sat in a rocking chair but, instead of facing it outwards, he faced it towards the cabin. When our eyes connected, he gave me a two-fingered salute next to his temple to let me know that he was wide awake and watching.

"So...Woody, huh?" I began to tease. "Did your parents really do that to you, or...?"

"Daneela, don't," Yasmin warned.

It had been three days, and I was beyond caring. "I'm just saying that it's not a very common first name. Maybe there's a story behind it. Come on. You can tell me. We're all friends here."

This gangling, rough-looking motherfucker's thin lips actually curled up at the inquiry. "I like Woody the Woodpecker."

"Was that your screen name on the GoDaddy site you all found each other on? God, did you use the picture, too?"

Yasmin put her hands together and pleaded. "Please, do not antagonize the man."

"I'm not. I'm not. The name suits him. I mean, look at him. Skinny, pale, red hair, no nut sack..." Yasmin pulled me away from the window, but it didn't shut me up. "I wondered why they left you behind to do all the bitch work, but now I get it," I called before being spun around to face Yasmin. "I'm cool. I'm cool, Yas."

He just kept on smiling and kept on rocking in that chair.

She ran a hand through her silky, brunette hair. "That was fucking stupid. That man could leave us all for dead in a ditch somewhere."

I scoffed. "Whether they like it or not, they can't stay up here forever chasing their own tails. Eventually, our food is going to run out, too, and then what, huh?" I turned back to the door and kicked it, "And then what, you fucking clown?!"

"And then they could kill us maybe." Yas shook her head, completely giving up on me.

"If they wanted to kill us, they would have done it already. Especially since we're just costing them food."

"Hey, don't give them any ideas," Gus warned.

Terry decided to speak up. "They think Bigfoot is real. They're probably convinced they're going to find something out there and will get to say 'I told you so' or something. And, when they don't, that's when they're going to realize that they could each go down for kidnapping, theft, and probably a whole bunch of other stuff. It'll be a lot easier to convince them to spare us if we stay cooperative."

I rolled my eyes. "Of course you'd take her side."

Yasmin held up a finger. "Don't you start."

"He's been simping for you since we got into this mess." I stared at him. "Are you hedging your bets on getting laid one last time or something?"

Yes. After three days, I'd become 'that girl'. While everyone else's heads had remained cool, I was freaking out a little. Yasmin was my girlfriend. They all knew this. What they didn't know was that we'd come out there in the first place because things had been a little rocky between us. We both loved the outdoors, and this camping trip was supposed to make us feel like the last two people left in the world so that she could see that there was no one else she'd rather be with. Instead, some freaks rolled into our campsite asking us to donate our food for a greater cause and, when denied, held us up at gun point and locked us in here. I don't think it's a stretch to assume that this was in fact the worst weekend of our lives. And then in popped this college graduate pretty boy and his friends telling my girl all the things she wanted to hear. Yes, I was on edge.

"Can we please just stop talking?" Gus asked while looking around. "All of us?"

The silence that followed was our answer. I sat down on the floor and put my head in my hands. Unfortunately, I missed the part where Yasmin mouthed 'I'm sorry' to Terry before sitting down next to me. It stayed this way for roughly ten minutes before all of us heard distant voices. We ran to the window, and it looked like the others were returning. Something wasn't right, though. They were dragging something on a tarp behind them. A tiny voice in my mind exclaimed, "Holy shit. Did they actually catch Bigfoot?!" but, upon close inspection, a very human groan could be heard, and it became obvious that the wounded party was their own. I counted three others. Two of them were dragging an old guy; one middle-aged white guy and one woman whose size brought to mind names like Helga or Bernice or Big Bertha.

"What the hell happened?" Woody shouted.

The large, burly woman with short, blonde hair and a voice much deeper than most patted the man being dragged hard on the shoulder twice. "You did good, Jake. We're gonna take care of you now."

"Fuck me. Y'all go get that sumbitch."

Woody repeated his inquiry. "What happened, Patty?"

She finally turned to Woody. "They'll tell you. Go on."

He handed her his gun and ran to the cabin that the injured man was being lifted up into. Instead of having a seat, she approached the front door causing me to immediately shrink away, and for good reason.

The door creaked open with a gun aimed at us. We knew the drill before she had to ask. All of us retreated to the far side of the cabin and placed both of our hands against the wall. Once she saw that we had done this, she lowered the gun a bit and smiled a gap-toothed smile.

"Evenin', everyone. I'm taking over for a while, and have come to ask if anyone has to use the facilities." She looked to each one of us. "Anyone? Speak now or forever hold your pee. Shit's kicked off next cabin over, and I don't know when the next go will be."

"Woody took us earlier," Gus answered meekly.

"He took all of you?" The fact that all eyes went to Yasmin and I was answer enough for her. "You first, Miss Green," she called, referring to Yasmin's green eyes. She may have been talking to her, but she stared at me with this self-satisfied grin as she ordered my girlfriend to her. Yasmin obeyed stepping forward with her hands up. "Don't worry, Miss Brown. You're next." Whether she was referring to my eye color or skin color was anyone's guess. Yasmin obviously didn't like a gun being pointed at her but, judging by the way she moved and how she didn't recoil from Patty's touch as she was ushered out, I was confident that the woman seemed to only get a kick out of harassing me.

Bart breathed out. "That woman's fucking huge."

"No shit," I sighed.

We'd all had conversations about perhaps bum-rushing Woody or anyone else guarding us when the door opened, but ultimately decided against it. Even if Woody was the one opening the door, we knew he didn't have the keys to our jeeps. They were kept on Patty, and there was no way any of us were taking her down; not without at least one of us paying the ultimate price. Without those keys, we'd only be jumping out of the pot and into the fire. There were still bears, poisonous plants, and the elements to worry about getting through in order to find safety.

As expected, within five minutes, Patty was bring my Yasmin back from the latrines. she returned to the wall placing a hand on mine.

"Did she do anything to you?" I whispered.

"No. The sick bitch just watches."

I pressed my cheek against hers. "Good."

Patty gestured to me. "Your turn."

"I'm good," I said defiantly knowing fully well that I wasn't.

Ignoring me, she threw her head back. "Move, Miss Brown."

I left the wall and squeezed past the woman as best as I could without touching her. She didn't make that easy. Once away from the porch, the harassment began.

"Did you miss me, Sunshin...?"

"No," I replied, flatly only to hear her chuckle. I groaned. "Can we actually go the the latrines this time?"

There were two perfectly functional latrines at the opposite end of the camp clearing but, sometimes, Patty liked to take me behind them instead. After days of getting to live without that anxiety, I had to come to grips with the fact that we were, indeed, heading around the back. Like a child, I attempted to make myself as small as possible as she swung the gun around on her back and pinned me against the exterior.

"Well, I missed you, baby girl," she said while kissing my cheek tenderly.

In front of the others, I was Miss Brown. In private, she had a number of pet names for me that all made my skin crawl. Every part of me wanted to run, but the voice in my head that still had some sense only said, 'Run where?' I had nothing. No supplies. No weapons. There was no doubt in my mind that I'd be chased and, on the off chance I did managed to get away, how would I find my way down the mountain? What if I fell and broke something? And then there was the most important reason to stay; Yasmin. I could never leave her behind.

She kissed my cheek again, but I just stood there cradling myself and refusing to make eye contact. I knew what she wanted.

The woman actually sniffed at me. "Your girlfriend sure is cute. I see why you like her."

"Don't." I snapped. I'd given her what she wanted once before when she'd made veiled threats to make Yasmin the subject of her attention instead, but the act left me so disgusted that she knew she'd need to refresh that fear.

"Don't what?"

I turned my head back to her and, with much hesitation, kissed her back the way she wanted me to. Nothing good comes from not having access to running water for days on end. She'd been in that thick forest all that time, and I had the displeasure of tasting it all as we made out. Her hands ran all over my body, and I knew she wouldn't like it if I took mine away. So, I kept them squarely on her shoulders. It seemed to satisfy her up to a point, but that point was ending soon. She backed away with a thumb under her gun strap and just looked at me. Again, I knew what she wanted but wasn't about to just acquiesce on my own.

"Well? Go," she commanded.

I didn't get it. I didn't get why she liked this. There I was with my pants around my ankles and my knees and lips spread apart, and she just stood there and...watched. Yasmin was probably granted the dignity of at least getting to do this on the toilet. Not me, though. The farther and harder it shot, the more she seemed to like it. I was tempted to spray her once only to realize that that's probably something she wanted. So I simply got it over with as fast as I could. She bit her lower lip as I forced the last of it out. Relieved, I started to stand.

"Stop," she said, approaching. She took a knee as I begged for the laws of the universe to yield just this once and allow me to become one with the wood panels behind me. They did not.

No. No. No. Stop. Please. God, no. This is gross. Her gun was right there. It was right on her back. I could snatch it off, right? No, her arm was through the strap. I could still do something. Where was the safety? What did one look like? Maybe she didn't set it, and I could just fire. I could feel her tongue worming its way inside. I looked down and saw her touching herself while she did it, too. Please, let it end. Please, someone make it stop!

"Patty! Patty, where are you?" called a distant male voice. It could have been Hal -- as in, the robot -- or LordMinion. Christ, these guys had some stupid ass screen names.

Annoyed, she stopped. "I'm in the bathroom, asshole."

"Well, hurry up! Big Jake needs to talk to you."

"Goddamnit, it can wait!" She shouted back.

"No it can't. He needs you."

She slammed a hand against the wall causing me to flinch hard. When she started standing up, I couldn't reach down and pull my pants back up fast enough. All I wanted to do was get back to the cabin, but she caught me by the upper arm.

"Not so fast." Her voice was gentle even though she made it a point to hurt me with the grip she had. "Who's your sugar mama?"

"...You are."

"Say it all."

I swallowed my disgust. "You're my sugar mama."

"And who's my baby girl?"

"I am..."

"You're what?"

I whimpered involuntarily when she squeezed my arm even tighter and directed my chin up to meet her eyes. "I'm your baby girl."

"And, when I'm rich, Mama's gonna take care of you real good. You hear me?"

I steadied my voice. "Okay, mama."

She made me look at her for a long time. As her grip loosened, I slipped away and hurried back to the cabin. I knew she was following, but I definitely didn't need an escort. In that moment, my prison was the safest place I could be. Hal was standing by the door with his gun and had a look of shock on his face when he saw me at least fifteen paces ahead of Patty.

"Please, open the door," I muttered to him anxiously as I reached the porch. The last thing I wanted was for Patty to catch up.

He didn't keep me waiting. "You're getting sloppy, Patty. The black one coulda done run off."

"Maybe on your watch cause you're a lil bitch," she shot back before changing directions to the other cabin.

Back inside, I played it cool and took a seat as if nothing happened.

Yasmin looked at me and made sure the others couldn't hear. "She watch you, too?"

I shrugged. "Yea, but it's whatever."

She let her head fall on my shoulder. "Could be worse, I suppose."

If only she knew how true that was.

** ** **

"Come on. It's cold," Bart shouted while banging the door. "Share the warmth."

"Bro, please, give it a rest," Gus protested yet again.

I was on Bart's side with this. It was late, and a nice, large fire had been started in the pit. People underestimate how cold late summer nights up in the mountains can get. While we were in no danger of freezing to death with our thick coats still within our possessions and our sleeping bags at the ready, there was a perfectly good fire not too far away that we were being denied. I just wanted ten minutes by it.

"All we're saying," Terry started in his best diplomatic voice as he leaned toward the window, "is that there is no difference between having a gun pointed at is in here versus outside. We have no food, no water, and no map. We're not going anywhere. So, if you could find it within yourselves to just share the fire, we'd all be eternally grateful."

I gave him a nice, long slow clap. "Wow. It took him thirty seconds to say what you said in two, Bart. Bravo. If I were them, I'd let us out."

The door swung open, and I got to eat my own sarcasm as Woody stood on the other side. His gun was at the ready, but he motioned for us to exit. I got one cocky glance my way from Terry before we all marched out of the cabin. Our elation was short-lived, however, when Woody and the others, all armed, pointed us towards the white camper van instead. Belonging to the original nine, it had been sitting on the lot harmlessly up until now. Now, it was up and running, and the interior gave off an ominous glow. What was going on? I stopped in my tracks.

"Go on," Hal instructed.

"Hell no." I shook my head. The others stopped as well. "Forgive me, but I feel like a lamb being lead to slaughter."

"Believe me, young lady," called a weathered voice from inside the van, "I'll be long dead before I let anyone's blood and guts get anywhere near this interior. This set up cost me too damn much. Now, come on. I'm tired."

We had to admit, if they were going to do it, it'd be easier on them to just do it outside. We continued, and within the van was the most bizarre thing any of us had ever seen. This type of stuff was in movies. But here we were crowded in a van with an entire side covered in screens. The other had a map of the area with markings all over. There was ammo, batteries, spare equipment and, at the front, a man sat in a reversed drivers seat. He was beaten and bandaged, but still managed to command everyone's attention and respect. There was room enough for him, the five of us, and Woody.

"What's going on?" Bart asked, and rightfully so.

"I want y'all to take a look at something." Big Jake held a remote. At the push of a button, the monitors began playing out a recording.

We watched and waited as night-vision footage relayed a humungous, skulking mass approaching something I couldn't make out. It wasn't until it snapped closed in a violent jolt that figures masked in the brush burst forth with gunfire. Our eyes were glued to what had to be a bear going after Big Jake as the others did their best to get it away from him. Big Jake's name was not in vain. Despite his age, which had to be well into his sixties, the man was a good 6'5'" and easily three hundred pounds. He was a toddler next to the beast attacking him. In fact, it had tossed him into a tree.

"Hurts every time I watch it," Big Jake winced. "Fucked my leg up pretty good."

The team was clearly losing the fight, and their only recourse was the use of what was probably bear pepper spray. It seemed to work as the monster disengaged from them and fled. The problem was it overwhelmed the team, too. As they did their best to escape the cloud, Big Jake hit pause.

"So I thought I'd lead with that," he stated.

"What the fuck was that thing?" I asked.

"That there's a Sasquatch."

Bart raised his hand like an idiot. "You mean, like, a Bigfoot?"

"No, I mean a Sasquatch. Bigfoot is just the name of the first one ever sighted. Chances are he's long dead."

Gus just stood there shaking his head. "It's fake. Or it's a bear with," he forced himself to see his explanation through, "gigantism and...mange."

"That has got to be the most retarded thing -- Woody! Do you hear this fool?!" Big Jake pointed. Woody chuckled. His gun was lowered, but none of us had escape on the brain. "You can shove proof right in someone's face, and they still refuse to believe. And then they have the audacity to ask us why we believe the conspiracy to hide it is real."

"You've got to admit it's hard to swallow." Yasmin commented.

"Naw, child. Having strangers come up to you trying to tell you Sasquatches are real is one thing. We understood that THAT was a hard swallow. But do you really think that me and my folks have a ten food friend hidden away somewhere who put on a suit, learned to roar, and threw me a good eight feet just to convince you lot that this shit is real?"