Charles was just about to give up and exit the site, when someone added another post to the thread. “I heard Donald Baker flew to Vegas to find the rogue,” is what it said.
Charles’ heart tapped out a staccato rhythm. Baker!
Charles was not adept at chat room etiquette or form. He’d never entered one in his life, but here was his connection. This had to be the Baker he was looking for. This was the man who’d taken Julia. Searching around the page, he found an icon that, when highlighted, read “Reply.” He clicked on this and found that he needed to create a screen name in order to continue. After a moment’s contemplation, he typed the word “Searching” in the space provided, selected a password, confirmed the password, and was then rewarded with an empty message box in which to type. Quickly, he posed the question, “Who is Donald Baker?” and then clicked, “Post.”
There was a slight pause, and then several responses hit the screen almost simultaneously.
MO—Dude, you’re kidding—right?
REYATTACK—LOL!!!
ZOOT—Who is this moron?
Charles sighed. Apparently this Baker was some sort of celebrity to these reyaqc geeks. “Sorry,” he typed. “I’ve just recently learned of the reyaqc and find the concept fascinating. I’m trying to learn as much as I can.” He posted the message, hoping his feigned novice curiosity would draw these people out.
There was another slight pause and then responses poured in.
TOGA—Donald Baker is the foremost expert on the reyaqc. He’s a Harvard University professor who has written their history.
MO—Welcome newbie to our little band of reyaphites! Donald Baker is a famous reyaqc whose goal is to civilize the species and bring them into mainstream society.
REYATTACK—Actually, it’s Yale, not Harvard.
ZOOT—Donald Baker is not a reyaqc! He’s a human sympathizer.
REYBOY—Donald Baker, along with other well-established reyaqc, work together to help both individual reyaqcs and even full packs to become educated, secure employment within human society, purchase land, etc.
DIGIT—Donald Baker is a wealthy reyaqc who wrote a book called “Histories” which tells the story of the reyaqc.
MOLTY—You’re both wrong, it’s Princeton.
REYBOY—Histories is not a book! It’s a series of three volumes.
REYATTACK—The college professor is just a front for the real Baker. The true author of histories is a molt who cannot be seen in public. FYI—a molt is a reyaqc who infuses stem cells from animals.
TOGA—Harvard!
DIGIT—Baker is not a molt. He detests molts.
MO—I heard he’s working on volume 4.
ZOOT—A guy I know told me he had him for a class at UCLA.
REYBOY—Donald Baker is a molt, and he is a professor. He’s the molt Dolnaraq from Histories Vol. 1.
MOLTY—No. Not UCLA. He’s Ivy League.
ZOOT—He is not Dolnaraq. Dolnaraq lived in the late 1800’s & early 1900’s.
TOGA—Harvard!!!!
DIGIT—Maybe I’d know more if SOMEONE would lend me his copy of histories. It’s not like I can find it at Barnes & Noble.
REYBOY—He is Dolnaraq! Haven’t you read the account? He and Tresset Bremu fled Europe for America just before WWI. And, no, you can’t buy it at Barnes & Noble! The three volumes of Histories were written in order to give the reyaqc a connection to their past, pride in who they are, and a vision for a brighter future. Baker never intended them to be read by humans, at least not until the reyaqc race becomes established and accepted within the mainstream of human civilization.
Charles was losing patience with the online bickering. Obviously, Baker was a man of stature for those who believed in creatures that went bump in the night—though, no one seemed to know many details, and there were obviously conflicting reports floating around. But now there was something else, another piece falling into place. The guy on Baker’s phone had said he’d gone to see Tresset Bremu. Charles had been having difficulty recalling the odd name until now. But seeing it on the screen, he was fairly certain that this was the name mentioned. “Who is this Tresset Bremu?” he typed. “Where can I find him?”
There were a couple more posts about which university Baker worked for, and if, in fact, the university professor was actually the Baker or just a front guy, and then the responses to Charles’ question appeared.
ZOOT—Tresset was a reyaqc chieftain who lived in the early 20
th
century.
REYATTACK—Tresset is a fierce molt who drinks human blood.
REYBOY—Tresset & Dolnaraq were close companions. They lived in a wild reyaqc pack as children and fled together when the pack was attacked and decimated.
MO—Tresset’s still alive. He and Dolnaraq are mortal enemies.
Charles sighed. There was so much myth. He didn’t know where the facts were in all of this—if there actually were any facts to be found. “Where is Tresset Bremu now?” he typed.
ZOOT—Dead. He was born in the 1800’s.
MOLTY—I heard he leads a pack in Montana.
REYBOY—He’s not dead. Reyaqc live longer than humans.
DIGIT—He’s in Pennsylvania.
TOGA—Reyaqc are immortal.
REYATTACK—He returned to Europe in the mid sixties after receiving a revelation from The Beatles White Album.
MOLTY—Reyaqc are not immortal, they just live about another fifty years longer than us.
REYBOY—My sources say he lives in Nevada.
Okay, here was something—maybe. The kid on Baker’s phone had said Baker had taken Julia to meet this Tresset. Obviously, he must be in Nevada. “Nevada? Where in Nevada?” he typed.
TOGA—Tresset Bremu lives with Donald Baker at Harvard.
REYBOY—No one knows where he lives. In order to protect their species, the reyaqc are very secretive. That’s why there’s so much contradictory information floating around.
There were a few more posts claiming whereabouts for Bremu, placing him on nearly every continent, and one crazy actually asserting that he was jettisoned to the moon from Apollo 13. Charles rose, stretched, began to pace. Most of what he’d read was nonsense, but the name Donald Baker fit, as did the term reyaqc, and the name Tresset Bremu. Obviously, none of the myth could be true, but there was a germ of something here, and Julia had somehow stumbled into it. He wondered if the reyaqc was in reality some sort of cult. Maybe they dressed up like animals or lived out in the wilderness. Julia may have stumbled onto some pack of whackos. Maybe they’d abducted her. So much of this made so little sense.
Passing back before his computer, Charles leaned forward, clasping the mouse, with the intent of exiting the site, when a new posting caught his eye.
REYBOY—Police just captured the rogue reyaqc in Vegas!
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Julia removed the blindfold, squinted at the bright desert sunlight, and then, opening the car door, stepped from the vehicle into the searing heat. The scene was nearly incomprehensible. If there had been any lingering doubts concerning Donald Baker’s extraordinary claims, they were erased in that instant. They were at an abandoned mining operation set amidst low-lying foothills of brilliant red and calico tan. The sandy ground was peppered with stones and pebbles, and it seemed to Julia that even the few visible cacti had difficulty making a go of it here. There were a handful of nearly dilapidated buildings, some rusted machinery, a blue Jeep and a beat-up Ford pick-up; but beyond these few anchors to normality, Julia might have been on a different planet. The entire place was populated by what could only be these reyaqc that Donald Baker had gone on about.
They were in various stages of undress. Some were entirely naked, walking about as if this was the normal state of things, which, perhaps for them it was. Many others wore some clothing, but not as a human would see fit. One young male, repairing the Jeep, wore a floppy yellow sun hat and a pair of Nikes—nothing else. His companion—also a male—wore a blue and green housedress that flapped in the hot desert breeze. Several of the reyaqc wore pants but no shirts; others, shirts with no pants. A slender male, relaxed naked on a lawn chair reading
Great
Expectations
.
The attire was disturbing, but the reyaqc themselves were of a sort that perhaps Jim Henson and Picasso could have colluded. No two were alike. Some were quite furry and bore varying degrees of animal-like snouts and teeth. Some had ears large and pointed, which twitched at sounds, or lay back against their scalps. Many looked as though they could have been rejects of some Frankensteinian experiment. A nose would be off center, residing more on a cheek than above the lips. Julia noted a female with two hands attached to the same arm. Nothing seemed complete, as if the reyaqc were caught somewhere between a human and an animal existence and couldn’t quite commit to either.
Then there were humans. Or, at least, they appeared human. Only perhaps a dozen were visible, all but one male. Their clothing was worn and dirty, but seemed appropriate for both climate and gender. They went about, performing tasks alongside the reyaqc, seemingly entirely adapted to the strange circumstance.
Donald Baker had moved off to the side, perhaps thirty feet from the Hummer. He spoke with a small, bare-chested reyaqc of about five foot three inches in height. The creature had elongated canines protruding from both upper and lower gums. His nose was dark with wide flaring nostrils. The top of his head was covered in a mop of stringy black hair, but much of his form bore the short tawny fur that could have come from a lion. The reyaqc continuously pulled a rag from the right pocket of his green military-style pants, wiping both hands, and sometimes the forearms up to the elbows, then folding the rag in quarters, and replacing it in the pocket. Perhaps thirty seconds or a minute later, he’d repeat the process. It seemed an unconscious act and Julia wondered at the psychology behind it.
Shane had exited the Hummer and now stood beside Julia. “They’re staring at us,” said Julia in a near whisper.
Shane slipped a stick of gum into his mouth. “Yeah. You’re staring at them too. I’m sure this reyaqc community doesn’t get many visitors.”
Julia gazed about the compound again, taking in the bizarre scene. “I guess I didn’t expect them to be so…beastly.”
Shane nodded a weary nod. The man seemed entirely void of energy. “Yeah, well, all reyaqc infuse from humans. A lot infuse from animals too. This community gets off on their hybrid characteristics.”
“They look like rejects from a bad
Star
Trek
episode.”
Shane shrugged. “Ever wonder where the idea of vampires and werewolves came from? You’re looking at it.”
“But human DNA and animal DNA aren’t compatible.”
“The reyaqc aren’t human, Jules.”
It seemed to Julia that Shane might well be saying this more as a reminder to himself than as an admonition to her. She wondered what happened during those four days she’d been drugged. She had not known Shane prior to that day, had spoken no more than a few sentences with him. Yet, she sensed a change. The man she’d met at the hospital had been full of youthful exuberance. He’d seemed brimming with energy, nearly ready to burst at the seams. But now it seemed the life had been drained from him, as if it was an effort to move about, to stand even. Surely the death of the girl, Taz, affected him. Julia sensed it was more than this. There was something troubling the young man, something deep, perhaps even life altering.
Perhaps she was simply projecting her own emotions onto him. She had to admit the possibility. Her life was in shambles, why shouldn’t everyone else’s be the same?
Donald and the short lion-like reyaqc had concluded their conversation and were making their ways toward Julia and Shane. Julia noticed the short reyaqc nod at two others who fell in step behind them.
“So, Dolnaraq,” the reyaqc said. “I see you’ve brought humans. New givers, I hope.”
Donald offered a sideways glance at the shorter reyaqc. “These are my companions, Shane Daws and Dr. Julia Chambers. I have promised them safe passage, and hope you will respect that.”
The reyaqc said nothing, but continued forward until he stood before Julia. She had to fight the urge to flee as he studied her head to toe, a contemplative grin upon his peculiar face. “A female,” he said with an approving nod. “Healthy, tall, dark-of-skin, and intelligent, yes? You are a doctor?” His accent was similar to Donald’s, but with less sophistication, his tone authoritative, his voice strangely compelling. Despite his freakish appearance, this creature was somehow charismatic.
“Yes, a doctor,” nodded Julia.
“Under my protection,” added Donald with an indirect glance at his companion.
“Mmmm, of course she is. The male seems healthy enough. No congenital diseases, I hope.”
Shane glanced sideways and took a half step back. “Doc, I think you’d better do something here.”
“Tresset,” said Donald. “They are under my protection.”
“Which means what exactly? You’re weak, Dolnaraq. You’ve forsaken your own kind for the world of the humans.” The reyaqc motioned to the two others standing three paces back. “Olac. Berid, take them both. We’ll decide what to do with them later.”
“Tresset, leave them be. This is not necessary.” This from Donald as the two freakish reyaqc stepped forward.
“I decide what is necessary, Dolnaraq. Givers are scarce. The human scent is on the wind. Your companions will be safer in custody.”
A tall brutish reyaqc, which may have been part bear, grasped Shane above the left elbow and moved as if to lead him away. Shane glared at Donald, and then allowed his head to drop in defeat. It was at this moment Julia made her move. The Hummer was still only a few feet away. If she could get inside, lock the door, maybe the keys were still in the ignition. She hadn’t seen if Shane took them with him or not. But even if she couldn’t drive the vehicle, she might still evade the creature’s grasp.