Enjoy this first chapter of Shepherds of Fragile Creatures. This sets the tone for what you should expect from sequel to Shepherds of Lost Things.

1. Those Who Never Forgot

Sharp pine scents filled the Jeep as Sr. Park Ranger Tim Dee barreled south along the two lane highway that ran around the south western edge of the Hoh Rainforest. As tall evergreens loomed along the side of the road he enjoyed the cool air from the last of these spring days. Summer would be here soon, and then this drive would be far less enjoyable.

Ahead he saw someone messing with one of the Fire Danger signs that served as the unofficial town boundary. Slowing down, he pulled into the narrow shoulder. He let the rumbling of the Jeep’s engine get the attention of the person messing with the sign. When they turned around, he realized all at once both who it was and what they were up to.

Wearing a thin smile, the Mayor waved at him. The two of them exchanged wordless glares before the Mayor turned back around abruptly. She didn’t move the danger arrow out of the blue “moderate” zone, but instead of being in the middle, it now hovered just above the green, “low risk” zone.

It was a not so subtle effort to make the situation in the forest seem less dire. Shaking his head, deciding it wasn’t worth an argument, he pulled back onto the highway without saying anything to the Mayor. What is she going to do if the weather is still dry and the forecasters have us bump that arrow into the yellow?

Quickly accelerating back up to full speed, he passed by a line of commune members marching along the other side of the highway. Heading north towards town. He honked and waved. They waved back. It wasn’t the smartest way to travel from the commune to the town, but he knew they didn’t have a lot of other options.

Not long after the commune members, Tim saw the south overflow parking lot coming into view. He had intended to just swing by the entrance, but standing out like a sore thumb from the back of the lot was a busted up sedan. No one was in or near the car that he could see.

“Damn it.”

He made a leftward turn across the highway with one hand as his other reached down to grab his radio.

“Hey Alyx, I was going to close up shop a bit early on the south parking lot, but someone’s still here.”

There was a crack of static as he waited for Alyx. They lacked punctuality when it came to responding , but he could always count on them to respond. Eventually.

“Dude, sundown isn’t for another 20 mins. What’s got you so hot to trot? Date night with the wife?” Ranger Alyx Narine answered back, the sound of passing cars giving away their location at the main parking lot up north.

If only. 

He chuckled at thoughts of what really lay ahead of him tonight as he steered the Jeep through the entrance and back up north towards where he’d seen the parked car.

The weathered gravel in the parking lot crackled as he navigated past the empty spots. With daylight fading fast it didn’t surprise him to find that the day hikers and photographers had packed up and left already. No one wanted to get a ticket for staying past sundown. The weekend warrior types would have paid up for a reserved overnight spot in the main parking lot.

As he neared the back of the lot, near the start of the trail head, the battered sedan came into full view. At full speed on the highway he’d got a tingling vibe. His gut hadn’t led him astray. As he pulled up, right behind them so they couldn’t leave before he was done, he eyeballed the car. It had been mashed in multiple accidents. The dents and paint transfers from impacts said at least three, but the fact both side mirrors were missing made him question if it was more. This car shouldn’t be on the road. Yet, this wasn’t what pissed him off.

There wasn’t a day pass on display on the dashboard.

“Maybe I’m rushing. Maybe they’ll be back in time, but they didn’t buy a pass,” he chuffed into the radio while idling behind the parked car.

Five miles north of him, Alyx smiled as they waved to a friendly birder hustling back to their car, “You gonna ticket them or chew them out?”

“You know I was going to just chew them out but this asshole parked in between two spots. I know this trailhead isn’t as popular, but you shouldn’t be a dick. The universe may get you back. Today the universe has a ticket book.”

Static popped on the radio as Alyx excitedly pressed down the talk button, “Ha. Grab a picture before you leave. We’ll add them to the ‘Jerk Board’ at the station.”

As he shut off the engine something tugged at him. As if an invisible hand were telling him to leave. It was the strongest gut feeling he’d ever experienced. He looked around, trying to place the sensation, but there was no one else around in the parking lot. So he ignored his gut and stepped out of the Jeep.

He shook his head, ignoring the sensation for now, and started inspecting the sedan up close. It was a beige Buick four door wonder from the 90s. As he stepped closer the sensation in his gut grew stronger. All at once everything wrong with this picture became clear.

The kind of folks that come to visit this parking lot tend to be either locals looking to avoid crowds, photographers who want an unusual vantage point, or die hard trail hikers.

A bird chirped loudly, interrupting Tim’s thoughts. He turned to watch as the small Stellar’s Jay bounced along the top of the visitor board. As if it was trying to get his attention. He turned back towards the car, and continued his evaluation.

Sally’s Point has its share of folks living rough, but even they have side mirrors. This doesn’t feel like a local, and no outdoor adventurer is gonna show up to a state park in a sedan. They’d drive into town in one of those goosed up 4x4s.

He clicked his radio off the ranger frequency and over to the sheriff’s frequency, “Hey this is Ranger Tim. Are you still at the office Rebecca?”

The plates are from Illinois. No one drives all the way across the plains, up and over a mountain range, to come hike in Hoh. Meaning this car is likely stolen. The people in the car are probably not up to good things in my park.

There was a rustling of leaves off the trailhead. As if someone was watching him from the woods. His right hand snapped to his gun holster as he squinted. Looking for what was causing the sound. After a moment, he became convinced it was just the breeze.

When was the last time you pulled this gun on the job? When was the last time you fired it? Hell, when was the last time you cleaned this thing? His worries continued compounding until the radio in his left hand crackled to life.

“Yeah, every day till seven now. Mayor wants us to stay on top of everything before tourist season starts. What can I do for you hon?” Rebecca helpfully replied from the Sheriff’s office in Sally’s Point.

“Hey yea, I’m at the secondary lot by the Shilo Trailhead, and there’s a busted up beige Buick here. I think it might be stolen. Can you run the plates for me? Illinois issued. Oscar Echo Tango One Zero Four Two.”

As he waited for Rebecca to run the license plate, Tim took out his ticket book and got to work filling out a citation. Using the opportunity to get up close to the Buick and poke his nose in the windows. If the owner came back and didn’t like him doing that, then he could just use the excuse that he was writing them a citation for not buying a day pass.

If the dented and scraped exterior of the Buick was hard on the eyes, the backseat was worse. Both driver and passenger rear doors were smashed, with the windows broken. Across the rear seats glass shards glimmered in the setting sun. Fast food containers were smashed and strewn about, as if someone had jumped into the back of the car in a hurry. Though what could cause someone to not care about where or what they sat on eluded him.

Putting his face right up to the door Tim noted flecks of blood on the fabric of the seats. Given the damage to the exterior of the car, it made sense. This car was in multiple accidents and some unfortunate soul was present for all of them.

Looking at the front and back windows Tim noted that both were of different tinting. Someone had replaced both, in a rush, and didn’t care about the sourcing of materials. All that damage wasn’t enough to stop this car from trucking all the way from Illinois to Washington. That’s no short drive in a vehicle this banged up.

Walking around to the front of the car Tim was surprised to find that the VIN number was not scratched out or covered up. Not what you’d expect to find if the car was stolen or chopped for parts. He finished filling out the citation, and leaned down to stuff it under the least bent windshield wiper.

Something foul smelling wafted across his nose as he bent over. Giving the air a long sniff, he couldn’t place the scent. It was just foul. Thoughts of opening the trunk to check for a dead body began to flit across his mind, but he really didn’t want to go down that road.

“Hey Tim, you there?” Rebecca radioed.

Looking down to see if the engine was leaking something, as if that might explain the foul smell, he responded, “Yup. Still here. Just checking out the car up close.”

“I got the details on that plate. 1992 Gold Buick Lacrosse. Registered in Chicago, Illinois. Owner is reported missing. Car is not reported stolen.”

He snapped back across the radio to Rebecca, “If Buick considers this Gold then my name is…” 

He paused mid sentence, noticing a pair of heavy footprints that led away from the car towards the path. Something about their pacing caused the feeling in his gut to return. Drawn by the uneasy feeling, he started following them, wondering how far down the trail the driver had gotten.

“Sorry, never mind about the color Rebecca. I’m gonna follow the footprints down the path a little and see if the driver is close by.”

“Roger that. I’ll see if Deputy Marigold is around to assist.”

Gravel gave way to packed Earth as he left the parking lot and headed down the path into the forest. An ugly winter had left the trail in rough shape, but he’d trekked across worse deeper in Hoh. There were places inside the rainforest that few eyes ever saw. However, for someone from Illinois who didn’t know the forest, this would be challenging to navigate. He noted the uneven pacing of the footprints in the dirt. 

Long shadows snaked out ahead of him as the last of the sunlight breathed across the forest. As the trail took the first of its many windy downhill turns, the dense canopy of old growth timber above ate the setting sun for dinner. With each step he took it felt less like dusk, and more like evening.

Reaching down, he clicked loose the tab holding his flashlight onto his belt. With a wave of his hand the bright beam illuminated the windy steep path ahead of him. He scanned the sides of the trail, worried the owner of the Buick had gotten themselves into trouble. Fools think they can wander off the path and be fine. They don’t know that in a forest this dense you can get lost. Quickly and easily.

The birds had settled in for the night. The predators were waiting for the sun to finish setting. Even the buzzing mosquitos were on break. The forest grew silent as the grave. The vibe of the forest shifted around him. He’d walked this path a thousand times between hikes with his wife, and days like today when he was on the job. It should feel like home, but now it felt like he was intruding on something.

A jagged gasp broke the silence.

Birds cackled and flew away overhead. Something was breathing, loudly, down the trail beyond his sight. It was a ragged broken breath. As if each breath was a struggle, a relief, and a curse all at the same time. He shuddered and felt all the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge as the sound grew louder. As if the woods all around him were gasping to life for the first time. Oh god, what’s making that sound. Is that an injured animal… or the owner of the Buick?

From this sickly breathing came a voice, seemingly without gender or affection, “Once Shepherds tended to the world. They kept safe both the people in the light and the things in the dark. Now no one remembers what it was in the darkness that they were so afraid of, but those things in the dark? They remember you.”

He stopped. Holding his breath, not from fear but so that he could better hear the voice. It sounded almost artificial, but not such that it couldn’t be a person. Scanning the forest with the flashlight he tried to make sense of where the voice was coming from. He couldn’t see anything. With no other options, he continued down the path as the jagged breathing grew louder.

The voice continued, “Peace was made on promises, now broken, and soon you shall be reminded that this world was never meant to be yours.”

Stepping gingerly down the windy path, he finally spotted a figure sitting on a rock just off the trail. They were slightly haunched over. Whether from pain or fatigue was unclear, but as their body shook he could tell they were the one with the jagged breathing that he’d been hearing.

Hustling down the path as softly as he could in outdoor boots, Tim tried to approach the person gently. He didn’t want to startle them before he’d had a chance to evaluate the situation. Been out here when idiots have dropped shrooms right before a hike on a hot day. Even the most peace loving hippy can turn violent under the influence of the wrong chemicals.

He clicked his flashlight off, but held it firm in his hand. Ready to use the sudden beam of light as a weapon if needed. His right hand went to rest on his holstered gun. He didn’t unlatch it though. It was probably just fear of the dark that was causing his gut to clench. He was sure the person sitting on the rock was harmless. Just a person who’d wandered into the woods and gotten lost.

One soft step at a time until he was right behind the person sitting on the rock. What should I say? How was the drive from Illinois?

SQUUUAACK

“Shit…” Any possible prepared remarks flew away from him as he fumbled with his radio to silence it. Just as it went silent, he heard rustling leaves. As if someone was running through the dense underbrush off the trail without a care in the world. He flipped on the flashlight and pointed it in the direction of the sound.

Nothing. Just the woods.

He swung the flashlight back to the rock where the person had been sitting. Gone? He stepped off the path and approached where they’d been sitting, hoping for something to give him a sense of how they’d vanished. But all he found was a cane lying on the ground.

“You have forgotten the things that lived in the world before you.”

Turning around he found a short old black woman standing right behind him. Yelping in surprise he stumbled backwards over the rock. As his body hit the ground the radio tumbled from his left hand and crackled loudly as it bounced along the ground.

Damn it. Staring at the dirt he chastised himself, Tripped over my own goddamn feet. Alyx is gonna spend all day tomorrow busting my chops when I tell them about this.

Shuffling his hands under him to look up, he found that the woman had not moved. His fears lessened. She must just be dehydrated and loopy. Shifting his weight, he pointed the flashlight at the woman’s chest so he could get a better sense of the Buick’s owner. 

The sight caused his breath to judder to a hard stop.

Her gaunt face was twitching, uncontrollably it seemed, through various expressions. She resumed breathing, and her jagged heaving breaths drowned out every sound around them. As her glazed over eyes looked down, he felt his thoughts scatter. It took him a long moment before he could find any words.

“Ma’am… do you need assistance?”

She didn’t say anything. Her bruised and bloodied arm swung up as she pointed into the forest. Her hand twitched lightly as her fingers curled around her index finger. It wobbled in the light, along with the woman, making her a ghastly sight.

Moving quickly, he got back onto his feet, always holding the flashlight on the woman. Thoughts of looking for his radio were quickly banished when he saw how thick the underbrush was around the rock. It could have gone anywhere. Turning his attention back to her, he saw that she was still pointing. After a moment of debating, he turned around to see what she was gesturing towards.

Nothing. Just the woods. She’s probably just some nursing home resident who wandered off.

Sighing, he turned back around and spoke to the woman again, “Ma’am it’s late. Let’s get you back to town. I’m sure that someone is looking for you.”

Her breath rattled to a stop as her eyes widened, her facial expressions continued to dance, but those glazed over eyes stared as if they were trying to cut right through him.

From behind him came the voice again. Only this time it was a soft whisper on the back of his neck, “We have not forgotten…”

Fear did not have a chance to strike Tim. For something grabbed and pulled on his left leg so violently that not even a yelp made it past his lips before the ground smashed into his face. He was instantly dazed harder than that time Marney had punched him for asking Jessica to the prom. Expected thoughts, like grabbing his gun, escaped him. But, the flashlight was still firmly held in his left hand. He swung it around to see who’d grabbed him.

Nothing. Just the…

He dropped the flashlight as fear became the second thing to wrap around his mouth. Muffled screams were barely audible over the sounds of underbrush rustling as he was dragged deeper into the woods away from the trail. In mere moments he was beyond where the flashlight beam illuminated. He could see nothing in the dark.

His radio squawked, “Hey Tim, Rebecca said you called in a suspicious car? What’s going on over there?”

There was no one to answer Alyx.

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Hours later Ranger Alyx Narine jogged down the trail with Deputy Kit Marigold. Their flashlights cutting bright paths through the now blackened forest. They slowed as a bend in the trail came into view, hearing Rebecca’s voice calling out faintly from a damaged radio, “Tim? This is Rebecca. Tim, please call in. Tim?”

Their lights illuminated not Tim, but an old black woman sitting on the ground slumped up against a large rock. Her head cast limply to the side. The Park Ranger and the Deputy approached slowly. Gingerly the deputy put his finger under the elderly woman’s nose. Her breaths were faint, but steady as she laid there.

Standing up and looking around Alyx said nothing to the deputy as they investigated the scene. There were marks on the ground like something had been dragged into the forest. Ranger Tim’s radio, dirty and broken, laid on the other side of the rock. Alyx picked it up, clicking it off without answering Rebecca as she continued calling for Tim.

Deputy Marigold stood up from checking on the old woman and radioed Rebecca with what they’d found. She promised them more backup. The Sheriff was at dinner, but he would be on his way now. The deputy had questions of the experienced park ranger, but she had wandered away from the trail into the woods following the drag marks until they faded. 

Sharp shadows cast themselves into the Hoh rainforest as Deputy Marigold pointed their flashlight at Alyx’s back. She shared nothing of her thoughts about what they’d found tonight. Giving him no words of comfort as fear gripped him. However, to the forest she spoke, “Though we fear the dark, the dark fears us.”

From the forest, came a voice whispering so softly that only Alyx could hear it, “What is there to fear?”

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