Lex stifles a gasp as Scorvo leads her toward the center of a room illuminated by pulsating red lights. At the room’s center are three pedestals. On the center pedestal rests Scar’s facemask. His other accessories are attached to the pedestal with thick metal clamps. The only exception is Scar’s ceremonial combistick—which is nestled in the waistband of Lex’s pants. She had considered offering it to Scorvo. However, his somber mood makes her second guess this decision. Lex traces the acid mark scored into Scar’s mask.
“You kept all of his things. Why? Is that normal?”
Lex peers over one shoulder at Scorvo. The somber warrior nods, beaded braids moving gently with the motion.
“For those who die with honor. What pieces were not destroyed during his battle with the keinde queen were salvaged. Some of the other pieces are replacements my cha’l brother kept just in case.”
Lex decides to take the leap and removes the ceremonial staff from under the back of her blouse. She uses both hands to offer it to Scorvo. The yautja warrior takes the staff, but does not seem overly happy about it. He places the larger than normal combistick on the pedestal beside Scar’s mask.
“Scar’s usual…Combistick was damaged by the black queen,” Lex explains sheepishly. “Your elder gave me this one. I can only assume it was really for Scar. Had he lived.”
Lex’s mind returns to the frozen continent, and the first time she ever saw Scar—and his terrible weapon. How frightened she had been then. Fear nearly paralyzing her. So foolish.
“You’re a good brother…To do this for him. I know…You say it is your duty to your clan. I can’t help but feel, it’s a bit more than that. We humans…Have our own story of two brothers. History can’t quite get it straight whether they were twins…Or simply brothers. One day, the two brothers had a terrible quarrel. And one brother killed the other. I am grateful…You are not like that.”
The manner in which Lex chooses her words, and the set of her jaw, conveys the hidden meaning behind her message. Scorvo's mouth works, as he considers his response, tusks twitching ever so slightly.
“I gave you my word. Do you doubt me?”
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“No. I just needed to be sure. And now, I am.”
Scorvo breaks eye contact with Lex and points toward the far wall. Lex follows the motion of his hand with her eyes.
“We will be arriving soon. You should prepare. The clothes you must wear are hanging there.”
Without another word, Scorvo exits the chamber. The door slides shut behind him. Lex stands alone in front of the pedestal bearing Scar’s hunt mask, a worried expression on her face.
-
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Graystone National Park
“Detective! Over here! We’ve found more of those tracks!”
Detective Mackey and Deputy Newsome converge on the four men standing several meters away. Squatting down, and staring at the place where the red-haired man continues to point, Detective Mackey issues a loud whistle.
“Whoo—damn! What the hell kind of beast is this?”
“I’ll say! And how the hell did it get ole Phillip's ATV in that damn tree?”
“I’m more worried about where Phillip’s body is,” Detective Mackey counters. “I think we can just about rule out natural causes.”
“Hey, what about those bank robbers up in Cambridge?” Deputy Newsome says, sweat forming on his chubby face. “You think they came through here? They could have killed the ranger and are setting up some elaborate hoax to throw us off their trail. Make us think this is some kind of Bigfoot killing or something.”
“Could be. But unless the ranger somehow spooked ‘em…Why bother with the Scooby-Doo routine at all? There’s plenty of places to hide. We’re talking miles and miles of dense forest and caves.”
“That’s just it. What if the ranger did spook ‘em?”
“And what if he didn’t? No. This is something else. Who walks around with a set of make-believe Bigfoot claws in their trunk? No one I know. Stop pulling theories out of your ass, Dave, and be serious.”
“You got a better one?”
“Yeah. What we’re looking for isn’t human.”
Detective Mackey places his hand in the center of the nearest footprint. The print is more than twice the size of the detective’s outstretched hand.
“When Felicia gets here…You have her make casts of all these prints. I want to know what creature could have made them. Have forensics check for hair and DNA. I have a feeling we’re not going to like what we find.”
Deputy Newsome rolls his eyes skyward and reaches into a pocket for his pack of cigarettes. He peers sideways at Detective Mackey, and offers his buddy a wily smirk.
"What was your first clue, bub?"
"Being stuck on this case with you!"
Newsome's smirk disappears just as quickly as it appeared.