Page 22 of Snow Creek

“Yeah, someone took it for some fun up here and ran it off the road.”

Maddie poked at the contents in the truck bed with a stick.

“Nothing to salvage here,” she said.

All of a sudden, her eyes locked on something in the truck bed. She stood frozen for a beat. Her eyes locked. She started to scream. It was a horror movie scream, the kind that slides up and down in volume and doesn’t seem to stop.

Dante, who was looking for a registration to see who the truck belonged to, hurried to where she was standing.

“You okay? Did you get stung?” He wrapped his arms around Maddie and tried to calm her.

Maddie stepped away from the truck; though her mouth was moving, she remained mute. All she could do was point the stick at something in the back of the truck.

He drew closer.

“What is it?”

“There,” she said, taking the stick and tapping against what she wanted him to see.

A desiccated human hand protruded from the carpet scraps. It was small, a child’s or a woman’s. The fingers were curved and crab-like.

“Holy shit,” Dante said looking at his girlfriend as she leaned into a sword fern and vomited.

Nine

A young state patrolman catches my eye and motions in my direction as I climb out of my car. He’s not alone. There are three more cars, two of which belong to Jefferson County Sheriff’s deputies. A third, I can tell, belongs to the young couple who made the call. It’s a ten-year-old Buick Skylark, brick red in color. It must have been a hand-me-down car from a grandparent or something. The couple standing next to it are young.

The female is petite with light brown hair and white skin. The male has black hair and dark skin. She looks toward the ravine. He keeps his eyes on me as I approach.

“I’m Detective Carpenter,” I say. “I know today has been traumatic for both of you,” my eyes take them in, “but I need you both to tell me how you found the victim.”

The two of them tell me their story. It’s a Wimbledon tennis match, with Maddie and Dante taking turns filling me in.

“Sasquatch.”

“Proof.”

“Road sucked.”

“Wanted to go home.”

“Had to pee.”

“He called over to me.”

“Truck.”

“Like it was hidden.”

Maddie stops for a second before starting up again. She looks down at the powdery dirt road. I know she’s remembering. Dante wraps his arm around her shoulder.

“Hand like a claw.”

“Heard scream.”

And that was that.

We’re finishing up as the coroner’s plain white van pulls in, and I take down Maddie and Dante’s contact information and tell them to go home.

---