Page 1 of Squatch Out!
CHAPTER ONE
OLIVIA
My heart trips rapidly with anxiety as the plane’s engines roar to life. Chaotic butterflies begin to swirl deep inside my stomach, and I squeeze my eyes shut when the sudden burst of speed pins me to my seat. Gripping the armrest with one hand, I press the other onto the back of the seat in front of me, holding my breath against the feeling of lightness when the plane leaves the runway and soars up into the early dawn sky.
The butterflies are rioting now with excitement. I’m really doing this! I’ve been planning this trip for almost a whole year. Saving up my PTO and working extra hours. I’m an HR recruiter, so I had to make sure my caseloads were taken care of and my clients and coworkers weren’t left hanging. It was a lot of work, but I made it! Today is the day, and I’m finally flying out of Roanoke and heading across the country to meet up with friends for a week of camping in the Pacific Northwest wilderness.Bigfoot country.
When the plane reaches altitude and the seatbelt sign blinks off, I finally lean back into my seat and let myself relax. I’mnot much of a traveler. In fact, the last time I traveled across the country, it was in the back seat of my parents’ minivan. I was seven years old and packed up with the rest of our worldly possessions. I’m no less packed-in this time around—squished between a young woman who smells strongly of weed and an older man who doesn’t look a day under one hundred and five.
Next time,I vow to myself,I’m paying extra for an aisle seat.
I’m just starting to relax, hoping to sleep through the five-ish hour flight when I feel a tap on my forearm.
“You got family in Seattle?” Weed Girl is grinning at me from her spot next to the window. She has anearthyvibe that goes along with her strong scent. “Or are you traveling for business?”
I look down at my favorite hoodie—featuring a blurry image of Bigfoot throwing up the peace sign and riding the Loch Ness monster under a hovering UFO—and wonder what part of my outfit made her think I might be traveling for business.
She’s wearing a colorful Boho-style outfit, and her sandy-colored hair is pulled up into a messy bun. Beautiful designs cover the backs of her hands and long fingers that are either henna or tattoos. I bet she works in or owns a small boutique filled with crystals and local art.
“Um, neither actually,” I say. “I’m just meeting friends.”
“Oh yeah?” She turns in her seat, leaning back against the closed window, getting comfortable for what she must think will be an interesting conversation to pass the time. “What are you planning with your friends?”
My lips twitch because, if I know anything, it’s how to shut down a conversation.
I imagine she assumes I mean taking in the party scene, or maybe a wedding or family reunion. I glance over at the elderly man on my other side, but he’s fast asleep with his chin on his chest.
“Actually…” I try my best to fold my ankles under my seat and turn so my body is angled toward her. A wide grin spreads across my face. “We’re going camping in the Olympic Mountains,” I look around and then lean forward, dropping my voice like I’m about to tell her a secret, “to look for bigfoot.”
Her smile falters, and her eyes grow wide. “B-bigfoot?”
“That’s right.” Settling back into my seat, I fold my arms across my chest and watch her rethink her decision to say hello to me.
“And you believe bigfoot exists?” She looks around for an escape. Of course, there is none, so now she’s probably wishing she picked a different seat. Or kept her pleasantries to herself.
“I do.” I nod, then I lean in again, letting her in on an even bigger secret. Not that this stranger is likely to believe a thing I’m about to tell her. “My friends and I, we’ve seen one.”
“You… have?” Now she’s looking around frantically.
“Uh-huh. With so many sightings all around the world, there must be thousands of them. Maybe even more. You know?”
“I–uh–had no idea…” Her eyes keep sliding away from me, trying to find a way out of the awkwardness I’m serving. But I just keep talking.
“I was six when I saw it. My family was visiting Mount St. Helens. Have you ever been there?”
She shakes her head, and Itskat her. “You should visit; it’s amazing. Anyway, I got distracted by the dappled sunlight filtering through the lichen-covered trees and ended up wandering away from my parents where I found myself all alone in a dense patch of forest.”
All these years later, the memory is still as fresh in my mind as the day it happened.
When I realized I’d gotten myself lost, I started to cry. I knew, if you get lost, you’re supposed to stay put so an adult can find you. But logic quickly took a back seat to my fear ofpossibly being eaten by a wild animal, and I started frantically trying to find my way back to my parents. Of course, that only got me even more lost.
The sun was starting to set when I collapsed in the middle of a small clearing. Wrapping my arms around my knees, I curled into a ball and sobbed. I don’t know how long I sat there before I realized there was a strange sound repeating over and over, like it was trying to get my attention. It was a deepwuff. Almost like a throat clearing.
When I looked up, I saw a huge hairy figure peeking out at me from behind a tree. Blinking away my tears, I rubbed at my eyes, certain I was seeing things, but it was still there when my vision cleared. It made awuff-wuffsound and then disappeared around the tree.
After jumping to my feet, I followed it.
I don’t know how I knew that I should. The thought that it might hurt me never occurred to me until I was much older.
