Aquifer: A Novel (23 page)

There was a swirling motion in the water right where Mack had disappeared. Then a massive V-shaped ripple headed directly toward Jed. The lone fisherman panicked and frantically tried to climb out of the water up onto the bank's overhand. He almost succeeded. When he was halfway out of the water, however, his legs were caught by something unseen from under the water.

Jed kicked and struggled in vain to free himself. He grasped and clawed at roots and branches, anything to hang on to, anything to keep from being dragged back into the water. But the rotting, soggy branches of the decaying tree limbs within his grasp only crumbled in his hands. There was nothing solid to grab. Terrified, Jed was dragged back into the river and pulled underwater. There was a swirling motion and ripples of something massive swimming slowly upstream, disappearing into the night.

*

That same night, about midnight, a backwoodsman was out hunting with his dogs. He had plodded through the dense woods for several nights, hunting for fresh meat to augment his meager fare but had nothing to show for his efforts. This greatly perplexed the hunter since he almost always came home with some type of game. But during the past several weeks, game had become more and more scarce.

Suddenly, the baying of the hounds in the distance indicated that they had picked up the scent of game.
Finally
, he thought,
the chase is on.
The man hurried as quickly as possible trying to catch up to the dogs, juggling his shotgun in one hand and a lantern in the other. He smiled as he contemplated the victory he would shortly relish; possibly a racoon, a rabbit, or even a possum. Already his mouth was starting to salivate at the thought of roast possum.

“Get'em Shep – tree that possum. Go on Lep – get'em boys,” the hunter yelled at his dogs, which were still out of sight and about one hundred yards ahead.

Suddenly one of the dogs yelped loudly as if hurt. A few seconds later the other dog yelped. Then there was total silence.

The hunter stopped his pursuit and cocked his head to listen. Hearing nothing but silence, not even the usual baying of his dogs, his wary instincts took over. Slowly he cocked both barrels of the old shotgun, then cautiously proceeded. He followed the game trail until he arrived at a small clearing near the river. There he found that the grasses and underbrush had been trampled, indicating that a struggle had ensued.

“Here Shep. Come on in boy. Lep, come here!” the hunter called.

There was no response from the dogs. The hunter bent down and raised his lantern to inspect the ground. A faint splattering of blood confirmed that the dogs had confronted something, but there was no sign of either them or their game. He studied the site for a moment trying to discern what had happened. Then a twig snapped behind him. He froze momentarily, but then quickly stood and turned, instinctively raising the shotgun before him.

Light from the hunter’s lantern shone on a creature the size of a large grizzly bear, only amphibious in nature, with a gimpy right front foot. It had only three toes because half of its foot was missing. When the creature rose to stand on its hind legs it exceeded the man in height by over two feet. Each of its four feet was partially webbed and the ends of each digit were tipped with sharp, retractable, three-inch long, curved claws. The legs were considerably longer and stronger than those of any earthly amphibian or reptile, allowing it to support itself on land and to outrun any prey, either upright on its hind legs or galloping on all fours.

The creature’s massive tail was longer than its torso, making the creature over eighteen feet long from the tip of its nose to the tip of its tail. The tail was thicker in height than width, providing a large, flat, surface area to propel it through the water when swimming. Its powerful undulations, combined with the side-to-side motions of the creature’s upper body, allowed the alien to gracefully yet powerfully navigate even the swiftest river currents with ease.

Its underbelly and the inside of its legs were a light green but the rest of its body was vibrantly colored. Its legs and tail were a light blue. It had a bright red head. Splotches of orange, yellow, green, brown and blue were evenly mixed throughout the remainder of its body. The wrinkly skin was thick and tough, covered with jagged lumps as if the entire creature was a giant mass of warts.

The massive head, though basically ovoid in shape, was flat toward the front, allowing both eyes to face forward. This gave it a distinct advantage in accurately assessing depth perception as well as determining the direction and speed of its prey. The eyes reflected the lantern’s light with an iridescent green flash and had the extreme focus ability equal to that of an eagle.

The facial muscles gave the creature the ferocious and vicious expressiveness of most carnivorous mammals instead of the immovable and expressionless face of earthly amphibians. Though it was amphibian, it appeared more reptilian, like a crocodile with a rounded mouth. It could walk on its hind legs while its front legs could be used as arms that could grasp and hold its prey.

Parting its lips and baring a double row of razor sharp teeth in its oversized mouth, the alien towered over the hunter as it growled and hissed in an extremely aggressive and threatening manner. The terrified hunter fumbled to get his finger on the triggers of the old shotgun. But before he could do so, the creature spit a thick, sticky, mucous substance onto his face. Immediately the hunter dropped his shotgun and lantern. Grasping his face with both hands, he futilely tried to wipe off the sticky, stinging substance, as he blindly staggered about.

The creature dropped to all fours and sprang forward, knocking the man into the bushes. The bushes thrashed for a moment. Then there was momentary silence, followed by the sound of a body being dragged across the ground to the river’s edge.

The creature grasped the hunter by the shoulder with its mouth and headed for the water. Arriving at the riverbank it splashed its way into the river and submerged. Ripples on the water’s surface revealed that it was swimming slowly underwater, dragging its prey upstream against the current.

=/\=

C
HAPTER
T
WENTY
-S
EVEN

Shut-Ins

The next morning, after breakfast, Clayton and the group began breaking camp. As they carried sleeping bags and other equipment to their cars, Tina turned to Clayton and asked, “Since the fishing's so bad why don't we go to Johnson Shut-Ins for a day of swimming?”

“I've heard that it's the world's best natural water park,” responded Clayton.

“It is. I sort of promised my nephew and his friends I'd take them there today, so I've got to run into town and get them. Why don't I meet you all there in say . . . two hours?”

“We'll be there.”

Larry caught up with Tina as he carried two Dutch Ovens to the black Hummer. “Mind if I tag along?”

“I was hoping you would,” she smiled.

Getting into Tina’s Jeep, Larry pointed to the johnboat still tied up on the other side of the river. “I wonder what happened to our trot-line friends?”

“Oh, they probably had a jug of moonshine hooch with them and are passed out on the shore sleeping it off,” she replied.

*

Johnson’s Shut-Ins State Park, located in the St. Francois Mountains, was one of the many phenomenal areas of the Ozarks. Tourists frequently came from hundreds of miles away to enjoy its beauty without stopping at any of the other Ozark scenic byways.

The Park Service had even organized a bird-watcher’s group and conducted daily tours throughout the many miles of trails and pathways in search of rare and exotic specimens.

The igneous rock which formed the deep bedrock of the area had been covered by dolomite and other sedimentary rocks millions of years ago when the area had been part of the sea floor. Following major uplifts of the entire Ozark region about 250 million years ago, the seas retreated. Rain and wind eroded away great volumes of sedimentary rock from the lithosphere allowing streams to carve downward through the soft sedimentary rock layers to the igneous rock below.

During the past 250 million years, swirling water followed cracks in the igneous rock scouring the channel deeper and wider. Waters of the Black River became confined, or “shut-in,” to a narrow channel etched into the granite canyon. Waterborne sand and gravel carved potholes, chutes and spectacular canyon-like gorges. Today the area is classified as one of the country’s best natural water parks with the Black River cascading between large, smooth rocks, creating natural water slides and deep swimming holes.

*

About mid-morning Tina, Larry and the three boys arrived at the entrance to the Shut-Ins. The park had extensive camping facilities, but its day-use area had sufficient parking for only 100 cars. Unfortunately, since it was the peak of the summer season, hoards of tourists had already arrived, and the parking lot was totally full.

Park Rangers refused to admit additional cars unless a car in the parking lot left. Then, on a one-by-one basis, new arrivals were allowed entrance. It was not unusual for latecomers to have to wait two or three hours to be admitted into the park. The three boys were quite impatient and vocally expressed their disappointment.

Tina’s Jeep was the tenth vehicle in line waiting for a spot to open up, though there were at least thirty-five other cars backed-up behind her.

“Is it always this crowded?” asked Larry.

“No, sometimes it’s worse, usually when you big-city boys are in town,” Tina responded.

“Ouch!” said Larry, “I guess I deserved that.”

The comings and goings of visitors delayed them, but within thirty minutes they had worked their way through the line, paid their entrance fee at the Park Ranger’s guardhouse gate and miraculously found an empty parking stall right next to Clayton’s H-2. They got out of the Jeep and loaded their arms with their picnic lunch and beach towels.

The three boys then raced ahead while Larry and Tina strolled hand-in-hand past the Ranger Station and camp store and headed down the tree-lined boardwalk.

For almost a quarter-of-a-mile the boardwalk paralleled the Black River so that tourists who did not want to get wet could stroll along the riverbank or watch as others played in the shallow water. During the hot summer months of the tourist season the park was always thriving with waders and swimmers wanting to cool-off.

“Believe it or not,” Tina teased, “we’re only ten miles from the highest point in the state.”

“Really?” Larry said, assuming that she was setting him up for something else to tease him about. To his surprise however, she was totally serious.

“Yeah, Taum Sauk Mountain. It’s a granite peak with a summit of almost 1,800 feet.”

“You call that a mountain?” Larry chided. “The Rockies get over 14,000 feet.”

“True, but the Ozarks are an old mountain range, like the Smokies. They’re worn down. In one of my geology classes I learned that Taum Sauk has never been covered by the ocean or glaciers, and that’s something that even Everest and McKinley can’t claim,” she proudly proclaimed.

They continued talking about geology, though Larry would have preferred a different subject. Tina pointed out various topographical or botanical points of interest as they strolled along the boardwalk beside the Black River.

The water in the river, which at that time of year was no more than a large creek, splashed over boulders, rushed through narrow chutes and crashed down two-to-six-foot water falls in a half-mile section of the river called the Shut-ins. There was no gravel, sand, or mud on the bottom of the two-hundred-foot wide river bed; only smooth, slick, polished granite, which formed natural water slides that dropped sliders into pools a foot to eight feet in depth.

At the top end of the Shut-ins the shallow riverbed had only a two percent grade in its slope, a fairly gentle drop creating an ideal, shallow-water setting in which toddlers and young children could play without their parents being overly concerned for their safety.

But the last half of the Shut-ins was quite different. The river dropped almost fifty feet over the course of a quarter of a mile creating a wonderful and more challenging water playground for adults and adolescents.

Large granite boulders were strewn about the riverbed. The river channel had scoured and carved out large slides, chutes, pools, recesses and drops, giving the exposed riverbed the appearance of a very steep hillside that had once supported a large granite building which had been knocked over by a giant, scattering the building blocks in heaps as they tumbled down the steep hill. The same illusion was presented at Elephant Rocks State Park a few miles further north, except that Elephant Rocks had no river winding amongst the gigantic granite boulders.

Waders and splashers were spread throughout the Shut-Ins, but were particularly congregated around the many natural water slides. At one of the larger slides Larry, Tina and the boys met up with Clayton and Welton. For the next two hours they frolicked and slid on the polished granite water slides, splashing each other, and climbing around on the gigantic granite boulders.

After two hours the three boys tired of this revelry and abandoned the slides, heading for the large swimming hole at the base of the Shut-Ins. Clayton and Welton, on the other hand, seemed to have reverted back to their childhood as they continued to enjoy themselves on the slides. Eventually they joined a group of college-age youth in a modified game of water polo.