Characters: Motega Brandt, Orenda Brandt Date: November 15, 2009, late afternoon Setting: St. Regis River Content: n/a Summary: Discovery
The roar of the dirt bike filled his ears. Ten-year-old Motego was far ahead of his friends according to his quick look behind. His helmet did limit his vision a bit, but he wasn't stupid enough to leave it home. He grinned to himself. He needed this day of hooky. Sure, Aunt Orenda would blow a gasket when she found out, and she would, but oh, it didn't matter at the moment. The trees speeding into a blur on one side, the river on the other... it let him outpace his guilt and fear for a little while.
He skidded to a halt not far from where he knew there was a small cave system about a mile in. He turned off the primitive track and started to weave between the trees, the sound of the engine changing once surrounded by tree trunks, closing the noise in.
He hadn't been this way since he was eight, and his father had taken him here to have a lunch. Might not have been the brightest idea, but it was bonding time, and his dad had told him stories of the animals that lived in caves. He fought the tears and longing. He still missed his parents with a hollow ache.
The place was way off the beaten path, and even now he felt his spine jarring with all the roots and rocks. There was no trail, just a water run. He feared he'd overshot the low caves after fifteen minutes, but after another three he realized his memory had distorted. The caves entrances were low to the ground. Pulling to a halt he parked his bike and pulled off his helmet, his chin length hair sticking to the side of his cheek with sweat.
Frowning he noticed trampled ground. Someone had been here. Huh, well his dad couldn't be the only one to know this spot. Maybe some older kids used the area for sneaking beer and weed. But Mo's sharp eyes didn't spot any cans or bottles, no wrappers or other garbage the older kids tended to leave behind. He felt a shiver up his spine and moved forward. There were wierd footprints. Some seemed human, others like a large deer, maybe a moose. Mo wasn't any kind of tracker. But prints in the mud were kinda easy. He could even tell some of the prints were from a sneaker type shoe and others were smooth, like some moron was out here in dress style shoes.
The fear hit him again. Mo wasn't afraid of the forest. The normal awareness of snakes and bear was lost to a pre-teen's sense of immortality. Most of the time. But Mo was more and more aware of mortality now. Maybe that was why he felt something gripping his heart in near panic.
He wanted to investigate further, but he was forced back by the fear growing to unreasonable terror.
He shoved his helmet back on and restarted his dirt bike. He pushed the machine a bit hard all the way to the riverside track. His three friends were nowhere in sight, overshooting this area by now and wondering where he was. He moved to follow after them, maybe meet up again when they circled back. He wasn't about to tell anyone he had been a pussy little girl, so he sealed his lips against ever mentioning the caves to anyone.