THE MAN WHO COULD NOT FIND BIGFOOT

Chapter 1: The Incident

DAVID

The morning was cold, as most mornings in November tend to be. The hunter sat in his deer stand watching his breath crystalize and be swept away by the breeze. The scene before him, a landscape of neverending yellow and orange leaves clinging to their limbs, stretched out as far as his eyes could see. It had been a good year so far, he had already taken one magnificent buck, and he soon hoped to take another. The sun was only just beginning to tentatively send out rays above the horizon, and the hunter sent up a silent prayer of thanks. His bones were aching worse than they had in years, and he was grateful for even a little warmth.

"Not many hunts left in you David my boy," the man thought to himself. Not any at all as it would soon turn out.

After a few hours of sitting in the cold and not seeing a damn thing, David decided to call it quits for the day. He carefully slung his rifle over his shoulder and began to slowly make his way down the ladder to the leaf-strewn earth below him.

While disappointed that he hadn't bagged another buck as he had planned, David had to admit he was still glad he'd come out. He had been hunting on the old Huggins property for his whole life. His father had been good friends with the owner's father and he'd never needed to even ask permission to be on the land. A feeling of peace and relaxation took over him despite the cold. He began making his way back to the path towards the old shack where he had parked his truck. As he walked, he listened to the sounds of nature all around him. His gaze swept up and around at the colors of autumn above him, admiring the natural beauty all around him. The path continued ahead twisting and turning lazily through the wood. He couldn't hear much more than the leaves crunching under his boots, but it was a pleasant sound, it reminded him of his childhood. The path David had traveled from his truck was roughly a mile from the start, to the deer stand. It had been his favorite spot to hunt for decades. It was far enough from the highway that he never worried about any foot traffic disturbing him, but also not so far as to make finding him in an emergency impossible. The Huggins girl, Marissa, could often be found studying in the old cabin he had parked by. In the years since she'd been born, David had developed a grandfatherly relationship with Marissa, and she was always happy to help him load any animal he had been lucky enough to shoot. In return, he would always ensure she and her friends had a steady supply of deer jerky. She had been gone for the last year visiting her mother in California however and had not recently been around to aid him. She had returned and been back to school recently, but David had yet to see her.

David noticed that his boot had become unlaced and knelt to one knee to tie it. At that instant, he felt a burst of wind fly just above him from front to rear. Startled, he looked up and saw nothing in front of him except the path. He spun around and looked behind him. Nothing.

"What the..." he muttered, troubled. He removed his hat, which had flaps on the side to keep his ears warm, to listen more intently. David realized that the wood, which was normally alive with the sounds of rustling forest creatures and songbirds, had grown unnaturally quiet. David knew that when a forest got quiet suddenly, it meant an apex predator was around. The forest had not gone quiet for him, and what could be a more terrifying predator than a man with a gun?

Thoroughly spooked now, he quickened his pace and un-slung his rifle, double-checking he had a bullet in the chamber. He did. Nervously glancing over his shoulder often he strained his ears desperate for any clue as to what had scared him so badly. His subconscious was ablaze with fear, and he wasn't sure why. It was as if his primal ancestors were trying to alert him to something horrible, but what?

"Hello?", David called reluctantly, hoping he did not receive a response. "Hello? Marissa is that you?" he asked in a quivering voice. He began to wonder if he had imagined the incident, as he was still unable to see anything. A feeling of being watched persisted, however. He looked around, forcing himself to be calm. He had been hunting in these woods for decades and had never felt so spooked as he did right now. Nothing out of the ordinary presented itself to him, and his breathing began to slow back to the normal rate. He chuckled nervously, sweat forming on his brow despite the chill. He scratched his head and put his hat back on, the cold beginning to nip at the tips of his ears. He laughed again, more genuinely this time. He chided himself for getting so worked up. He'd seen all the dangers this forest had to offer by the time he was eleven years old and had never seen anything larger than a small black bear. He was a master hunter, and armed for God's sake! What did he have to be afraid of? "Well Marissa if that's you, then you're lucky I didn't put brass between your eyes!"