Eric Linnaeus | Book 1 | Chapter 1 - This is Why my Job Sucks... (Patreon)

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ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟙 - 𝕋𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕚𝕤 𝕎𝕙𝕪 𝕞𝕪 𝕁𝕠𝕓 𝕊𝕦𝕔𝕜𝕤ᴄʜᴀʀʟᴇs ᴡᴀʟsʜ: ᴍᴀʏ, 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟾.

─── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ───

A single shrill scream carried across the mountaintop. It echoed through the trees, startling the birds and nearly deafening me.

“It’s alright; the worst part is over,” I assured the woman calmly, doing my best to maintain a professional tone of voice while, in truth, I was trying not to panic. I was still a rookie on the job, and she was the most uncooperative patient I had encountered.

“Don’t touch it! Don’t touch it!” she wailed, her voice rising in panic as I delicately examined her ankle. It was badly sprained, but the shoe was off now, and she would be fine. This was the third accident of the day. Being early spring, there was a bit of unexpected ice on the trail that routinely caught inexperienced hikers by surprise, and that meant there were a lot of injuries.

I should say: I like my job, ah, most of the time at least. Days like these made me a little less enthusiastic, but overall, it wasn’t so bad. I worked in a dual role as a Deputy Officer-Ranger, for the county Sheriff’s office in a middle-of-nowhere tourist town somewhere in Maine. Though, if I had known then what I know now… Well, I might not have taken the position.

Unusual things have always happened in the wooded areas of Maine, and it seems the closer you get to the Appalachian Mountains, the stranger they become. The locals have a set of general rules: don’t go outside after dark; don’t answer voices that come from the woods; and if you feel as if something is watching you, don’t look back. I believed these rules to be little more than superstition.

I had made my way home in the dark plenty of times and had never seen anything out of the ordinary. The worst I had ever encountered was a drunk wandering down an old service trail, and he had run off into the woods as I approached, so no harm done.

But I digress. I took the injured hiker back down the mountain on her own private VIP tour, aka: the ATV experience, which seemed to put her in much better spirits. I handed her over to the paramedics, then made my way back to the station.

When I got back, Sheriff Barrett, my boss, was waiting for me. He was a grumpy old man with a no-nonsense attitude and a lousy sense of humor. His hair was thinning and gray. He sported a thick mustache, and his eyebrows resembled chunky caterpillars. “Did you have fun out there, Deputy Charles? We could hear the screams from all the way down here,” he amused himself at my expense.

“Oh yeah, nothing wrong with her lung capacity,” I agreed, dejected. I dumped my gear down on the desk, knowing full well I was going to have to type out yet another report about this. Paperwork was my least favorite part of the job.

“Actually, before you get comfortable, we’ve had another request come in,” he sat forward to toss an envelope in my direction. The folder slid onto my desk, and I picked it up curiously, flipping through the pages as I skimmed over it.

“A whole group is missing?” I asked skeptically. That was unusual.

“Yep. They were due back yesterday. No one’s seen ‘em yet, and they haven’t checked in.”

“Right, I’ll go check it out then,” I was saved from the paperwork.

Honestly, I wasn’t too worried. Sometimes campers go out and enjoy themselves so much that they decide to stay an extra day without notifying us. It’s a bit of a pain, but what can you do? It’s not usually a worst-case scenario.

Having said that, each year thousands of people do vanish on the mountain, and in rare instances, some die. But most of the cases are average and solvable, or at least; there’s a reasonably logical explanation for what happened. For example, campers go hiking and get lost, people are killed in disputes over illegal activities, some purposefully hurt themselves in remote places, and so on.

Rarely do we stumble across anything entirely unexplainable, where the evidence denies any reasonable conclusion, and there are more questions than answers. Things like deaths so bizarre we’re not entirely sure what happened, or disappearances with mysterious circumstances surrounding them... Though I hadn’t, at that point, had any such cases.

In the area’s past, there were some massacres and a couple of intriguing cases that remain unsolved. Nowadays, the only time it gets even mildly busy is during the late spring to early fall, hiking season, when tourists show up in droves. It’s like the zombie apocalypse, only it’s sweaty guys trying to impress their partners with the stamina they don’t have, and middle-aged women angry at nature itself, instead of the living dead. Personally, I would have almost preferred it if the undead wanted to hike the trails.

Aside from that, virtually nothing ever happened where I worked. The town’s crime rate was so low that our station was essentially little more than a glorified log cabin, and there weren’t more than a handful of us officers. I was the youngest and most inexperienced of us, so no one really paid me any mind. Diane was the only woman in our station. She was a plump, friendly lady, and while she was also an officer, she mostly handled the receptionist work rather than field patrols.

Anyway, I was glad to be back outside again and to have an assignment that varied slightly from my usual duties. Ordinarily, most of my days were spent patrolling up and down the mountain. I was to ensure the trail was clear of debris, check on campers and assist any injured hikers. It was quite repetitive. There’s only so many sprained ankles one can show enthusiasm for, as you can imagine.

The fresh mountain air and the surroundings were pristine. Everything was a lush green, there was a cool breeze filtering through the trees, and the forest was teeming with life. I puttered along slowly on my ATV; I didn’t want to scare or squash any wildlife (or people). Countless small animals would scurry away into hiding as I passed, and I enjoyed being outside in nature.

Birds sang overhead, and I was stopped a couple of times by tourists asking for directions and/or photos. Apparently, local law enforcement is exciting. Or maybe they just liked a man in uniform. Who knows? Truth be told, I wasn’t in as much of a rush as I probably should have been, so when the call came in over the radio for a status update on my location, I felt instantly guilty.

‘Hey Charles, are you nearly at the site?’ Diane sounded cheerful.

“Hi, yeah, I’m about halfway there…” I admitted sheepishly.

‘Only halfway? What are you doing, taking a stroll?’ She chastised.

“No, Ma’am. I’ll hurry it up.”

‘You better.’ I knew she was only half joking, and I got a move on.

According to the report, the group in question was supposed to consist of nine people: four adults and five children. The youngest member was six, and the eldest was sixty-seven; it was a party of two families. As I approached the area, the forest around me gradually became still and silent. I didn’t even notice at first, but soon the birdsong had stopped entirely. The only sound was the hum of the ATV and the crunch of twigs under tires. It was eerie, to say the least. I rolled into the clearing where the group was supposed to have camped and shut off the engine.

The sense of foreboding I got as I approached was almost overwhelming. It was as if the atmosphere itself was suddenly weighed down by dread, and I could intrinsically feel that something was wrong. Because of this, I investigated with caution. There was evidence that the group had been there: flattened ground cover, boot prints in the dirt, and a campfire that was still smoldering.

However, the site was too clean. There were no other personal effects left behind; not even so much as a single piece of litter was left. It was against park policy to leave a lit fire unattended, so one would expect that a group who couldn’t be bothered dampening their fire wouldn’t be the kind that would clean up so thoroughly. It was like these people, and everything they had brought with them, had simply evaporated, leaving no trace.

The logical part of my brain told me they had probably just moved on and forgotten about the fire. But, if that was the case, why hadn’t they returned yet? I came from the only direction they could have traveled to go back down the mountain and hadn’t passed any groups matching their description. As I examined the area further, I noticed that a portion of the surrounding brush seemed to be damaged. Squashed a bit as if people had moved through it. Had they gone hiking off the marked trail? I decided to radio for backup and then followed the new path through the broken foliage.

It wasn’t long before I spotted something bright blue high in the trees ahead. Mild anxiety churned in my gut, and I proceeded with slightly less confidence as the bad feeling I had intensified. I was beginning to fear the worst - what if that spot of color was a person hanging dead in the tree? I hadn’t seen a dead body in person before, and it wasn’t something I was eager to experience.

As such, I proceeded with a healthy skepticism and was relieved to discover that it was only a tent. The thin fabric swayed gently in the breeze, and I became uneasy. It really was a very odd place for a tent to be. Aside from being wrapped around a tree at dizzying heights, it also seemed to be entirely intact with no obvious signs of damage. At least it wasn’t a mutilated body, but how exactly it had become entangled some 30-odd feet up in this tree was beyond me. It was too purposefully placed for it to have simply blown up there, while at the same time, it was so spectacularly high up that I couldn’t imagine anyone risking life and limb to put it up there for no apparent reason. Which begged the question, who had put it up there? Moreover, why?

“Hello? Is there anyone out here?” I called nervously. I wasn’t sure that I expected, nor even wanted, a response from the woods. This was a little too spooky for me. Seconds stretched out into minutes, and the sound of my voice died out in the vast silence unanswered.

As I approached, I noticed a small circular charm hanging from one of the lower branches by a strand of thread. It was made of thorns and what appeared to be small animal bones interwoven with twine. It also looked aged, as if it had been in the weather for quite some time. “...Yep. That’s fine,” I told myself after looking it over and deciding I had no desire whatsoever to touch it.

Moving past the tree and its creepy artifacts, I continued down the path. Gently pushing past overhanging branches and stepping over fallen logs as I navigated. It was around this time that I started to feel watched and remembered the local superstition: ‘If you feel watched, don’t look back.’ - Yeah. Right, I thought sarcastically. It was completely ridiculous. If I was being stalked by a mountain cat or something, I wanted to know. Ignorance does you no good in the wild.

Still, I didn’t want to appear nervous, so I swiveled slowly to survey the immediate area again. Looking with my eyes only, I scanned the foliage from one side to the other for predators. As far as I could tell, there was nothing. I was alone. So why was my heart beating so fast? The sound of blood rushing in my ears was nearly deafening. What subconscious piece of information was warning me of a danger I couldn’t see?

Unfortunately, it was at this very moment that the radio on my shoulder crackled to life, scaring me half to death. ‘Hello Charles, it’s Diane again. I’m sorry no one is available for backup. Can you please advise on your location?’

I took a second to recover from the near heart attack and regain my composure before answering. “I’m just a little ways off the campsite. I found a tent high up in a tree. I’m not sure how it got up there. But I don’t think I’m going to need backup after all. There’s no one here.”

‘That’s a little odd,’ she hesitated before adding, ‘You stay safe out there, and keep us updated.’

“Yes Ma’am,” I sighed to myself, feeling mildly reassured. Somehow just hearing someone else’s voice was comforting.

With renewed confidence, I carried on until I came across a river. The edges of it were muddy, with signs of people having been there recently. I could make out distinctive shoe impressions, and alongside them, something else. It was what looked like a large animal print in the soft earth. It could have been a bear- if bears had extra toes? Otherwise, I had no idea. It wasn’t similar to anything I had come across before.

I took out my camera to take a few pictures for evidence, using a dollar bill for scale. The strange print was huge. Well, bigger than the dollar. I scrutinized the length of the river to see if I could tell where they might have exited on the other side. There didn’t seem to be any worn-down areas visible from where I stood, so I walked further downstream. I assumed that if they traveled in the riverbed for whatever reason, it would be easier for them to move with the current rather than against it.

Along the way, there were more strange footprints. Some seemed to have five toes, while others had seven. Were they left by two different animals? I wondered. Then I began to find items. First I came across a shoe, then cooking pots, clothing, and a partially torn sleeping bag. The further I went, the more items I found. I called out at frequent intervals, making sure to give pause to listen for any response. No one ever answered. It was becoming clear that this was more than campers getting excited and exploring. These people had been running for their lives.

The sun was beginning to get low, and I followed the river more urgently, breaking into a light jog. If I was going to find them, I had a much better chance to do so during the daylight hours. I continued until my muscles ached and rested briefly with my hands on my knees as I caught my breath. I should probably lay off the donuts, I thought with mild amusement. Sweat made the tips of my hair cling uncomfortably, and I splashed some of the river water on the back of my neck. It was colder than anticipated, and the regret was instant.

Still, I gave myself another minute or so before I faced the truth. I hadn’t stopped purely because I was exhausted. I had stopped because I knew in my gut that it was over. I was out of time. The sun was setting, and the mountain cast a long shadow over the forest, making it astoundingly dark beneath the canopy. Soon the creatures of the night would emerge from their burrows, and if I didn’t turn back, I would probably end up getting lost myself. But that didn’t make the decision any easier. The chances of finding lost people alive decrease significantly with each day, and surviving a night in the wilderness isn’t easy. Temperatures can drop below zero, nocturnal predators patrol the woods, and the terrain itself is infinitely more dangerous in the dark.

So it was with great reluctance that I made the decision to return to the clearing. When I passed by the tree with the tent again, I made sure to leave a note pinned to it, just in case the campers found their way back. Then I called Diane on the radio to report in.

“Diane, I’m almost back at the ATV now.”

‘Deputy Charles. Where were you!? I have been trying to reach you. Why didn’t you answer?’ She sounded angry, which stirred a new anxiety in me, and my palms started to sweat. I was still probationary after all.

“I followed the river and found some supplies. There were also a few strange footprints, I’ll clarify when I get back, but it looks like a rescue effort will need to be coordinated,” I tried to explain myself. I hadn’t heard my radio go off at any point while I was searching. I assumed maybe it had been out of range while I was exploring. Good to know that if I had fallen into the river or something, I would have been totally on my own.

‘What kind of prints did you find?’ She asked more calmly this time, though the edge of annoyance in her voice remained.

“I’m not sure; they were big though. Maybe some kind of bear?” I knew without a doubt that this wasn’t what they were, but I didn’t want to seem like I had wasted time or didn’t know what I was doing.

‘Just come back now. The Sheriff wants you back before it’s dark. So, hurry.’ Her directions were sharp and left no room for interpretation. I think this made me more anxious because I could tell there was something she was withholding.

I returned to the original clearing to find the ATV lying on its side and stared at it dumbfounded with an increasing sense of apprehension. It was a four-wheeler and nearly 700 pounds. No way someone just accidentally pushed it over like that. Still mildly confused, I braced myself and pulled it back upright. The force it took confirmed that this had to have been done on purpose, and that meant I wasn’t as alone in the dark, scary woods as I might have hoped. It was all I could do not to panic. What you don’t know can and definitely will, kill you, if given the chance.

To avoid looking as spooked, I made an effort to start up the vehicle as nonchalantly as possible and side-eyed the forest subtly. Initially, nothing seemed amiss. There wasn’t any ominous shape lurking in the shadows or unnatural glowing eyes, just dense trees and endless silence. I was about to dismiss the bad feeling I had as generalized anxiety when a twig snapped. My attention fixated in the direction of the sound, and an inhuman scream erupted from the darkness. It was unlike anything I had ever heard and unnervingly close.

It had only been a single, short sound, but it was deafening. It reverberated low and long through the trees causing all the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end. There’s nothing even remotely comparable to the feeling of unequivocal dread it gave me, and I absolutely did not want to stick around to find out what made that sound. So you can bet your ass I made my way back to the office tout fucking suite.

─── ⋆⋅✧⋅⋆ ───

When I arrived, Sheriff Barrett was waiting for me, standing with his arms folded, watching the horizon. I felt like a teenager caught sneaking home. “You made it back. I was beginning to wonder,” he stated gruffly, and for the briefest moment, I thought he looked relieved to see me.

“Yeah. Someone knocked over the ATV. It took me a second to get it back up again,” I mumbled the excuse for the time it had taken me. I was still shaking like a leaf. All the adrenaline that had kept me going was starting to wear off, and my knees felt weak. I think he could probably tell from the look in my eyes how terrified I had been.

“What did you see out there?” he sounded dire, like he knew something I didn’t.

“I- I don’t know, Sheriff. The reported campsite was empty, and when I investigated further, I saw a trail that led deeper into the woods. I think they went that way. I also found a tent tangled in some trees. But I don’t know how they got it up so high? I mean, it was really high up there-” I spoke rapidly, getting caught up in my thoughts before I collected myself, “I followed their path along the river. There were some personal effects and large footprints. I took photos-”

“Show me the photos,” he cut me off, paying no mind to the rest of what I had said.

I pulled out the camera to show him, and he took it without saying anything more. He clicked through the photos silently with an ever-deepening frown on his brow, “Should we call the neighboring county to organize a search and rescue?” I asked hesitantly. I got the distinct feeling I had done something wrong, even if the only wrong I had done was simply having been out there at all.

“It’s too dangerous to send people into the woods at night. If they’re alive out there, they’ll have to survive on their own until daybreak,” he said grimly as he turned on his heel to walk back inside.

“We can’t just leave them out there-” I protested.

“We can, and we will. You don’t know what’s in those woods.”

I grit my teeth. He was a superstitious old bastard, afraid of shadows in the dark. “I’ll go. Every hour we do nothing is an hour wasted. People’s lives are at stake.”

“I said, no. And you’ll do as I say unless you want to be fired. You hear me, boy?” he snapped.

“Yes,” I answered bitterly. I hate to admit it, but I needed this job.

He watched me with a stern expression for a long moment before he sighed, rubbing his face and stroking down his mustache, “We aren’t equipped to deal with this, Charles. We’re going to have to call Linnaeus.”

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