Shifters, Beasts, and Monsters (66 page)

“It’s the color of the rock, and the way the light
hits it,” Michael explained. “Come on.”

Emily nodded at Jason, and the two fell into step
behind the grizzled old man. She could smell a vague waft of sweat in his wake.

“Think there’s really a fossil in there?” Jason asked.

“Could be.”

“Think it’s really the Minotaur?”

“Not sure on that one,” Emily said, deciding now was
as good a time as any to channel her inner skeptic. “I mean, why are we the
only ones here?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why isn’t there a whole media frenzy?”

“Maybe he didn’t tell them.”

“Yes, but
why
wouldn’t he tell them?” Emily
hissed, turning to face Jason. She realized she had been whispering. “Look, I
don’t really trust this guy, so just… I don’t know, stay alert or something.”

“Stay alert?” Jason repeated, grinning. “Shit, Emily,
I think at this point he’s got us where he wants us.”

“Well, anyway, just, you know,” Emily said, waving her
hand at the boy. Before she turned back around, she caught a flicker of a smile
and grinned back at him. “Listen, I don’t think we’re in any danger, but I have
to protect the son of my boss.”

“Oh, so that’s what this is about,” Jason said, still
grinning. “You’re protecting your own interests.”

“Of course,” Emily replied, matter-of-factly. “You
didn’t think I cared about you, did you?” She turned around and went after
Michael, pushing through foliage that all but masked the path.

She got to the mouth of the cave and found the old man
sitting on a rock, chewing on a blade of grass. “Inside,” he said, gesturing
with his head.

“Well lead on,” Emily replied, gesturing with her
hand.

“I… don’t want to go inside.”

“Why?” Emily demanded, a little alarm sounding inside
her skull. What was this Nimon up to?

“Because, the cave smells, I have been in there for
many, many hours already, and I just don’t want to smell the damp anymore.”

“That’s it? You’re afraid of a little damp?” Jason
chimed.

“Yes. Every time I smell that wet rock and soil, I
feel like I want to vomit.”

“Vomit.”

“Yes,” Michael said, nodding his head gravely. “Vomit.
Wouldn’t be good for the fossils.” He offered a wry smile.

“Well, how deep are the fossils in the cave?” Emily
asked, her voice cracking.

“Not far. Twenty feet maybe. Don’t worry, it’s not
dark or anything, and there’s nothing to worry about. The ground is quite flat,
the space is big. You won’t hit your head or slip or fall. In fact,” Michael
said, tapping his forefinger against his knee. “This is probably why the
Minotaur stayed there in its dying days.”

“Dying days?”

“Yes. The creature must have been weak, and so
searched for shelter. At least, this is my guess.”

“Right,” Emily said, shaking her head. “Come on,
Jason. Let’s see if this is the real thing or not.”

“Stay alert,” Jason whispered, mocking.

“Don’t you ever take anything seriously?”

“No.”

“That explains a lot.” Emily took a few ginger steps
toward the mouth of the cave. Michael was right – it didn’t look to be
particularly dangerous. It was a large, cavernous opening with what seemed to
be an unusually flat ground surface.

“Well, if I had to pick a cave to die in, this would
be it,” Jason said. “Except for the smell.”

“The air is cool,” Emily commented. “Water probably
doesn’t get much of a chance to evaporate.” She touched the side of the cave
wall and her hand came away damp. “Yup. Everything in here is wet.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s weird,” Emily murmured.

“What?”

“Do things fossilize well in wet and cold
environments?”

“I don’t know,” Jason said, shrugging.

“Me neither,” Emily responded, pushing the stray worry
aside.

“Come on,” Jason said, moving ahead. She followed
after him, catching a few strands of his scent. For some reason, it didn’t
offend her as much as she thought it would. The smell of sweat was generally
not something she liked, but Jason actually smelled alright.

“Here!” the boy called, jogging forward. She chased
after him and found a large rectangle, cordoned off with what looked like
packing string tied to chopsticks shoved hastily into the shallow soil. She
could tell the soil was shallow because, around the edge of the rectangle, a
large slab of stone had been unearthed. Only, Michael had only had to ‘dig’ one
inch.

“Can you make it out?” she asked, squinting. She
couldn’t really frame what she was looking at.

“Come here,” Jason said, and she followed him to one
end of the rectangle. That was when she saw it. It was more than just errant
scratches in the rock. She clearly saw huge, curved horns, a strange skull that
looked monstrous, and a set of bones that formed the rough shape of a human
body.

“It looked like this creature, whatever it was, died
lying on its side.”

“Jason,” Emily said, turning to him. “Do you think
this is really a…” her voice faltered.

“I don’t know. Looks like it, right? I mean, the
horns? The human-ish body? I mean, if this is really a fossil, it’s been here
for what, like, thousands of years?”

“More, maybe.”

“Wait a minute,” Jason said, and Emily didn’t fail to
notice that he had touched her arm inadvertently. “We’re being so stupid.”

“Don’t say that, Jason.”

“Don’t fossils take millions of years to form?”

“Uh.”

“Don’t they?”

“I don’t know.”

“I think they do,” he said. “Like dinosaurs. Come on,
this is a fake.”

“Wait!” Emily called, chasing after Jason who was
storming out of the cave. She exited the opening, and was instantly glad to be
drenched in sunlight. She turned to see Jason pointing his finger at Michael.

“This is a fake!” Jason shouted.

“Jason!” Emily called.

“This is a fake!” he continued. “Fossils take millions
of years to form. Why the hell had you wasted our time?”

The man simply looked at Jason, and as Emily jogged up
to them, she saw he was grinning. “What’s so damn funny?” she asked, glaring at
him.

“Your friend is right. Fossils usually take millions
of years to develop,” Michael said, shrugging.

“See, I told you,” Jason said, looking away in
disgust.

“But,” Michael continued. “When conditions are right,
a fossil can form in as little as five years.”

“What?” Emily asked.

“You’re lying,” Jason accused.

“Ever read that story about some people unearthing
fossils that looked like some strange, unknown bird, only to have it revealed
that they were
chicken
bones? More than that,
our
genus of
chicken, nothing from history. They dated the fossil to between five and ten
years. This was after it made the rounds in the news and scientific journals as
a new prehistoric species discovery. Interesting, huh?”

“So that Minotaur fossil is real?” Emily asked.

“Yes,” Michael said. “You saw it for yourself.”

“Were the conditions in that cave just right for a
fossil to form in a few thousand years?”

“No,” Michael said, taking a deep breath. Emily could
hear the proverbial other shoe drop.

“No?” Jason echoed, his voice cracking.

“No. Those fossils are much older.”

“Older?”

“Yes. My guess is more than one hundred thousand years
old.”

“Woah, woah, that’s way before the myth of the
Minotaur,” Emily said, distantly realizing that what she had said was the
understatement of the century. It was way before any form of
civilization
.

“Let me ask you something,” the old man said. “Where
do myths, legends, and stories originate from?”

“Where?” Jason and Emily said simultaneously.

“Why, from real life! People see things, and they tell
stories. But in order for a story to become a myth, it must first be
retold
.
Not just once. But millions of times. Only then does it enter the vernacular,
as it were.”

“Vernacular,” Jason repeated, shaking his head.

“Yes. So does it follow that, there ever only having
been
one
Minotaur, that a story would survive even to this day?”

“What are you saying?” Emily asked. “That there was
more than one Minotaur?”

“Of course!” Michael exclaimed, suddenly animated. “I
might even go so far as to suggest that they were a
subspecies
, similar
to Neanderthals.”

“Neanderthals went extinct like, thirty thousand years
ago or something,” Emily said. “You said this fossil was over one hundred
thousand years old.”

“Yes,” Michael said, nodding. “But that is simply the
fact. If this fossil is that old, and stories of the Minotaur were around four
hundred years before Anno Domini, I think it’s safe to say that the Minotaur
was not only a subspecies, but a recent one.”

“So what, you think they only recently went extinct?”

“Extinct?” the old man asked. “No, no. Not extinct.”

“What,” Emily said, shouting it. “Are you talking
about?”

“The Minotaur is fairly unique to Mediterranean
region. References to it exist in Greek culture, some in Egyptian, and bits and
pieces here and there. But all in the region. So, we can draw the conclusion
that the Minotaur only existed in this region, right? I mean, lived here,
called this region home.”

“Right,” Emily said, before glancing at Jason. The
young man was pacing up and down across the mouth of the cave.

“Well, why here?”

“What do you mean why here?”

“Why Greece? Why this area, this region?”

“How should I know?” Emily cried, exasperated.

“I’ve been studying these myths and stories for a long
time,” Michael said. “Believe it or not, this is not the first Minotaur fossil
I’ve seen.”

“What?” Emily asked.

“It isn’t. This is the second I’ve seen. There is a
university, I won’t say which, that has actually taken genetic samples from the
previously discovered one. Their findings were… startling.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” Emily blurted.
“You’re lying. You’re just another loon. Why didn’t you tell us this before?”

“I’m not lying,” Michael said, shaking his head. “Now,
I’m no geneticist, but from what I understand, it is suggested that the
Minotaur was not just a subspecies, but a parallel species. That is, an
offshoot of homo sapiens, separated by a single genetic marker.”

“Genetic marker?” Emily said, shaking her head,
irritated. “What do you mean? And why only this region?”

“There are numerous animals in nature that can change
shape, appearance, and color,” Michael said, seemingly going on a tangent.
“This genetic marker is theorized to have similar functionality.”

“So why here? Why this region? And what are you
saying,” Emily asked, the words coming out together and too quickly. “That the
Minotaur can change color?”

“That the Minotaur can
shapeshift
,” Michael
corrected.

Emily laughed. “Okay, now I know you’re full of shit.”
She turned to walk way.

“And,” Michael added, raising his voice, interrupting
her movement.

“And what?”

“And that it is something unique to this region that
activates it.”

“What?”

“Yes,” Michael said. “Now, it can’t be the air,
obviously. And that also rules out the water. But, what isn’t ruled out is the
soil. The landscape. The geology.”

“The soil?”

“It has an odd smell, doesn’t it?”

Emily looked from the old man to Jason, and when she
saw him on the ground, doubled over, and panting, she screamed. She ran to him,
her head on a swivel between Michael and the boy.

“What have you done?” she hurled at him, her voice a
panicked shriek. She watched as Michael ambled over, set his bag down on the
ground, and take from it a video recorder.

“Your friend,” he said, “is descended from a Minotaur,
from a member of the parallel species. His genetic marker is being awakened
now. You are here because the Minotaur will need a mate.”

Emily tried to speak, but no words would come out.

*

Dallas is a Minotaur!

We were sitting outside, and we had finished
eating, and then we started fooling around. It got pretty serious, and we went
into the house and I got him naked, and, yeah, well, I lost my virginity to
him.

And fuck if it wasn’t a really good lay. He was so
big, so gentle yet firm at the same time. He made me squeal and moan and writhe
in pleasure. My whole body… I felt something that I’d never felt before. He
filled me up, so thick, so big. It was painful at first, but when I got used to
it… well, then we were really going at it. Loud. Heavy. Wet.