I suppose its about time I told this story. I'm not getting any younger and I think its a story that needs to be passed on, considering the state of the world. This was in my early days at the DNR, thats the department of natural resources of course, in a unit jokingly called the Night Stalker Unit. It was our job to deal with the cases deemed CZE, thats classified zoological entities. Anything found in the natural world that requires special care and diplomatic contingencies. Dogmen, sasquatch, merfolk, any of those entities which defy scientific conventions, display an intelligence similar to our own, or present a formidable threat to our species which requires a high level of discretion and tact on our part. If someone has an encounter with a CZE, thats not something we look into, other than to make sure they haven't gathered any evidence that might compromise the CZE's privacy. What concerns us are the cases of negative contact. If a company is attempting to develop an area which is causing distress to the local CZE population, if one or more hunters have been attempting to catch or kill a CZE, if a family or town has been targeted by one or more CZEs in a dangerous way, or, as was the case I will describe here, someone turned up dead in an apparent attack by a CZE.
This case happened in 83', back when I was still a greenhorn working under Conner Duncliff, my mentor and a legend in the Parks and Wildlife crowd. We were called out to a park area known as the Land Between the Lakes, over by Kentucky and Tennessee. This was a fairly popular area for hunting, hiking and camping. It was before the big summer rush that a family had parked their RV in the campground located in the northern part of the area to begin what would have been a perfect family summer camping trip. What they got instead was a nightmare beyond anything they thought was possible.
The report came to us about 8 hours after a local had found the family dead. By then, the local police and Park Rangers had gone over the whole terrible scene. The family had been butchered, ripped to shreds by either a wild animal or an axe murderer they didn't know, which is how it ended up on our desk. Conner and I went to the scene and tried to smooth things over with the locals, get them busy with crowd control and patroling. Anything to minimize the trauma they would experience having to process a scene like this.
The campsite looked like the killing floor of a slaughterhouse. The father was laying just outside the door of the camper, split down the middle. The shotgun at his side had only been fired once and based on the evidence hadn't managed to hit anything but dirt. Inside the camper, the little boy was in peices all around the main living area. He couldn't have been a day over 11. Further in the back we found the mother, in the bathroom at the rear of the camper. The door to the bathroom had been torn off the hinges and crushed like a tin can. We found defensive wounds on her, so she had tried to put up a fight at least. Conner was the one who noticed there were clothes and dolls for a young girl in the camper as well. We searched the area, hoping and praying that she got away and hid somewhere. We found her not 40 yards away, 20 feet up in a pine tree, torn apart and stuck there on a branch the way shrikes will stick bugs on a black thorn.
I had never seen something so terrible before. Conner looked like he was about to faint or lose his lunch. I'd never seen him so mad. After we had both gathered ourselves, we started in on the case. All evidence pointed to a Dogman attack, what we called a Black Dog case at the DNR. The father had been drawn out, most likely by a noise or a tap on the camper. Once he was dispatched the mother and children barricaded themselves in the bathroom and the CZE tore the door off, killed the mother and proceeded to drag the children out to be slaughtered. Conner was convinced there had been more than one, which meant this wasn't a rouge loner and meant this was a serious threat to the people in the area. Something had to be done and I had no idea what that might mean.
After we made sure the teams had everything under control, we went back to the motel we had rented in the area. I remember Conner spending most of the night on the terrace outside, smoking like a chimney and looking like he was considering something truly unpleasent. The next morning I couldn't be sure he had ever managed to sleep but he looked at me hard and told me there was a way this could be fixed if I had the courage and was sure I wanted it fixed. I told him I'd do anything to make things right for that family and he nodded with a condemned expression.
He told me to go and fetch supplies for a camping trip, for at least 3 or 4 days. We had tents and lights and things like that in the truck, so I got food and water and other nesseccities. When I got back I saw he had a bag of evidence taken from the scene. When I started to ask about it he just nodded and checked the supplies.
We drove further north into Kentucky, deep into the country where the road turned to gravel and gravel to dirt. We seemed to be following an old logging road. When we came to a fence marked protected land we left the truck and hiked deeper into the woods for most of the day. On the way I noticed Conner picking prarie sage by the hand full and stowing it in a bag. We had brought a bow and a few arrows and Conner told me to keep an eye out for any game we could bring down. I spotted a decent sized jack rabbit and we managed to bag it, even though I wasn't much of a bow hunter. It was nearly night when we reached a spot flat and open enough to set up on.
Once camp was set up and he got a fire going, he tossed in a handful of the sage he'd collected. The green leaves created an acrid heavy smoke that permiated the area. It reminded me of my grandmother, who used to burn sage around her house all the time. I asked him if I should clean up the rabbit to make us some food but he said the rabbit wasn't for us. I had been running through different explinations for what we were out there to do but nothing made enough sense so I finally had to ask. Conner looked up at the red orange fading light and drew in a deep breath.
What we're here to do, he said, is something we do not do lightly. I haven't done it in goin on 20 years now, and I don't suppose I'll ever need to do it again. It was taught to me by my grandfather and his grandfather before him, and before him the indians who were either taught by their grandfathers or came up with it on their own. You know that the creatures who were responsible for that horror back at the park, they've been around longer than any of us, before the settlers, before the indians. Our relationship with them has changed throughout our shared history. Sometimes they would have the upper hand and we'd live in fear of the woods, or we'd have the upper hand and they'd be forced back deeper to keep away from our guns and machines. As you know, they are highly intellegent, on a different level than we are I suppose. I believe they were a sort of evolutionary cross road where the human race split between the thinking society and the primal tribes. They evolved along a different path, a more natural path you might say. They may not be able to speak our language or build cities like we can, but they are just as sharp, just as observant and adaptive as we are, perhaps even more so, seeing as how they don't have language or histories cluttering up their thinking. The point is, they are not animals in the way wolves or bears are to us. Evolutionarily speaking they are on the same level as we are and because of this we have to consider our relationship with them diplomatically. We don't want to live in fear of them, and they want to be left alone. To maintain this peace, the ancient humans had devised a line of contact between us, in the event of some unacceptable event. A way of reaching out and making peaceful contact.
Obviosly, this is not something either side enjoys in any sense. The Dogmen have cultivated a powerful distrust of humans over the centuries, and I can't say I blame them for that. They respect us as a threat, but they dispise us as a species. This of course is not true of all of them. Like us, there are some among them more prone to peace and coexistence just as there are others who would wipe us out given the chance. That is why this contact is extremely risky for us.
I remember feeling distant, like what he was saying was bouncing around in my head and I couldn't get a hold of it. Was he seriously telling me we were about to meet with one of the Dogmen? A whole pack of them even? For what? To talk to them? Ask for their help? I just sat like a statue as he talked and threw more sage on the fire.
The ritual, which is what my granddaddy called it, was to be followed to the letter. The meeting place is deeper into the woods and we were to bring no tools or weapons or even clothes. Nothing but the offering and the evidence. This would put us completely at their mercy, which is the only way they would let us get close. That was the first thing to land in my mind. No weapons? No clothes? I thought he might be trying to kid me but when I looked at his face I could see he wasn't just serious, he was scared. To see a man like Conner in terror was something I'll never forget. He tossed another clutch of sage on the fire and gestured to it. The sage burning, he said, was part of the ritual. The indians believed it would ward off evil spirits in the area. My grandaddy had a different idea what it was. He called it an olfactory beacon of sorts. A strong smell to get their attention and one they associate with the contact ritual, letting them know we would be attempting contact. He lifted a branch of the sage to his nose before tossing it into the fire.
We waited until the moon was high and the path was lit enough for us to walk in the dark. I was staring up at the moon through my tent wall when Conner called to me and said it was time. I felt my stomach do a gymnastics routine and crawled out to see the fire was out and Conner was already completely bare. I took off my clothes numbly and went to join him. I'd never felt so vulnerable as I did standing in that dark wood, naked and shivering. It wasn't cold but I imagine I could have been mistaken for a eunich I was so nervous. I grabbed the rabbit we'd killed and sort of clutched it to my chest, trying to feel less naked. Before we set out, Conner grabbed a handful of the ashes from the fire and held it out, blowing a puff of soot over me before tossing the rest on himself.
We walked and we walked. It seemed like we had walked until I was sure the sun would be coming up. Up until now the forest had been wet with sound. Birds in the trees, bugs chirping and whirring. The whole orcestra of nature. But at some point everything went quiet as a church hall. It was like someone found the volume knob on the woods and turned it off. I hesitated for a moment until I remembered Conners instructions. Walk steady and calm, keep your eyes on the path, pay no mind to anything you might see or hear, and most importantly you were not to look at anything if it should look at you. As we walked the only sounds were the wind in the trees and the crunch of leaves beneath us. Until I started to hear something moving in the woods to our left. Something big. I kept my eyes forward as the sound trailed us, matching our pace. Then came a sound to our right, a deep, low, guteral, growl that made every thing inside you shudder and clench. I had heard the researchers mention infrasound, a sort of low frequency sound that can cause anxiety and feelings of dread in people. They said it could be detected in a tiger's roar and that our reaction to it might be tied to our ancestral fears. Maybe it wasn't tigers they were worried about after all. Either way, being there in the dark, with nothing between them and us, I can't begin to decribe the terror I felt.
As we walked, the two at our sides kept abreast of us. One of them jumped onto the path behind us and let out another growl that made my teeth vibrate before charging us. I could hear the crash of the leaves, feel the thuds of its feet hitting the dirt not two feet behind me. It took everything within me not to spin around and bolt for the woodline, screaming and pissing myself. I heard it slide to a stop and felt the dirt and sticks it kicked up bounce off my calves but I just kept walking and Conner did the same. I couldn't feel my body anymore but I just focused all my sanity on walking and looking stright ahead.
When Conner finally stopped, we had come to a clearing. The grass and prairie sage was a bright silver in the moonlight which was so strong it looked to be daytime. For a moment we just stood, the forest was still and silent as a graveyard. Then I caught a glimpse of eyes reflecting the moonlight in the bushes ahead of us.
A large shape emerged from the forest in front of us. It crawled forward on all fours, its black fur seeming to absorb all light. A living silhouette with two glowing pearls where its eyes should be. Two others emerged along side it like bodyguards, one of them looked like spun silver in the moonlight and its eyes held a spark like amber when you rub it against wool. The other had patches of black and eyes that glowed like the dying cinders of an old bonfire. I almost broke my composure when I felt hot breath on the back of my legs and heard a snuffling. I twitched involuntarily and the thing let out another low warning growl before touching its cold nose to my backside as it sniffed and circled me. Another black shape was circling Conner as well and I couldn't see his face but something about his calm demenor settled the thundering in my ears. The dogman circling me growled again and tried to look up into my eyes and I looked away quickly, dodging its stare like a nervous kid being confronted by an angry policeman. It lunged at me and I heard the snap of its teeth and felt the rush of air as it bit the air in front of my crotch, sending an shudder through me that made me glad I had emptied my bladder before leaving.
The large black dogman eyed us for a moment before shifting. Something inside it popped like a twig being snapped in a wet towel and it slowly rose onto two legs. The other two followed suit. The two at its sides had to be 7 or 8 feet tall, but the black one had to be closer to 10 feet. I had never seen something so massive so close before. It almost blacked out the moon over us. Conner looked at me and made a gesture to the rabbit I held. I felt like I was in a slow motion terror dream and my body wouldn't respond. A low growl behind me snapped me out of it and I stepped forward.
I could feel the eyes on me like hot pokers held inches from my skin, waiting for an excuse to close the gap. I laid the rabbit at the feet of the largest, stepping into its shadow that seemed to be an extention of itself, as though I might be stepping into a vast open mouth. A snort came from high above me and I felt a snuffling at my hair. To my absolute horror a nose entered my feild of vision, then a muzzle, then the bright bioluminecent pearls of its eyes. Something left me in that moment, like it had reached into me and taken something, what it was I couldn't be sure. I looked away from those points of light in the black mass before me with great difficulty. Then I stepped back, carefully moving to Conner's side once again.
The largest sniffed at the rabbit before making a gesture to one of the attendents, who grabbed the hare in one hand. It looked like a gorrilla holding a kitten, even though I thought the rabbit had been quite large for its species. It disappeared into the woods and Conner took the bag of evidence from under his arm. He began to pull objects out and laid them on the ground before him. There was a peice of bloodied cloth, a wedding band stained black with blood, a child's shoe, and finally a lock of golden hair. The alpha sniffed at the items intently, growling low as it got to the hair. It stood at its full height and watched Conner as he pulled the last items from the bag. A clutch of fur found in the father's hand, saliva samples taken from the bodies, and small vial of urine soaked dirt taken near the site. The alpha sniffed at these items and snorted before grunting and standing. It growled deeply for a moment before turning to disappear into the dark with a brief step, covering the distance to the trees like a cloud passing in front of the moon. The others soon followed, looking back at us with low warning growls.
After they had gone, Conner and I just stood in shock until the sounds of the forest returned as quickly as they had gone. A great weight seemed to lift off me and I felt like I might pass out. Conner took a long breath in and let it out slow, shaking just the smallest bit. He looked at me and grinned. I think she likes you, he said and I almost fell over at that, my knees buckling slightly.
The trip back to the camp seemed to happen in double time, like someone rewinding a tape. Once we found the lanturns, Conner and I pulled on our clothes and climbed into our tents without a word. I felt like I might never sleep again, my heart still thudding in my ears, but I ended up falling asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.
The next few days were spent camping and waiting. Conner had told me we had to stay in the area until we had gotten some indication that they had done something about our mutual problem. He told me about his first time performing the ritual of contact. It hadn't been here, though he said he had contacted this pack before. This was apparently something done all over the country. The ritual changes slightly in certain areas but the purpose was the same. On the third night we heard far off howling, deep and piercing even at a distance. It sounded the way a coyote pack will sing in chorus, all baying and howling and yipping at different volumes and intervals. The next morning we found, laid on the ground before our campfire, three massive clawed hands severed at the wrist and lined up. Conner smiled when he saw it. Looks like they took care of it, he'd said, lifting one to examine it. He handed one to me and it felt heavier than it looked, like holding a gun for the first time. The one hand was bigger than both my hands together and the long claws at the end of each finger had to be 5 inches and retracted slightly. The fur on each was a different color and each one was clearly a left hand. Conner dropped each into a seperate bag and said the lab boys would be over the moon about these. They tended to collect their dead fairly religiously so remains are difficult to come by.
And then we packed up and went. We hadn't heard of any further activity in the area and we told everyone we were authorized to tell that the situation was resolved and we had performed a highly successful contact. After that I felt a bit like a celebrity at the DNR. It was something I'll never forget and something I wouldn't considering doing again unless the situation was dire. Although, with the reports we've been getting lately, it might be something we won't be able to do at all anymore very soon. We don't know why they've been becoming more active and aggressive lately but it certainly makes the continued peace between us more and more unreliable. What that means for the future, I can only fear the worst.
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