Project Hannibal Kathryn Hoff (best free e book reader TXT) 📖

wasn’t a campsite, it was a plywood hut the size of a pickup truck. The roof sprouted a narrow chimney pipe and a shortwave radio antenna. A large stack of firewood lined one side of the hut; a postage-stamp garden was visible up the slope.

Atop the roof, a man was nailing down a tarp.

“Oh, God,” Luis murmured. “Homesteaders. Be careful.” Alaskans valued their independence—and their firearms. Illegal squatters on public land could be particularly touchy.

Brandon stepped forward, hands raised, smile plastered on his face. “Hello there, brother!”

The man on the roof jerked around—and drew a pistol from an underarm holster.

Luis lifted his hands and grinned. “Easy, partner. We’re just passing by, didn’t want to startle you.”

“Come out where I can see you.”

Hands up, Brandon and Luis stepped a little closer.

“Jerry?” A woman’s voice came from the cabin.

“Stay inside,” the man ordered.

A tiny face peeped out the door at knee-height and was immediately drawn back.

Hell, a woman and kid, too.

“There’s a storm coming,” Brandon called. “We’re looking for someplace to wait it out. We’d be glad to lend you a hand in return.”

“Turn around.”

Hands in the air, they pivoted slowly, letting the man see their packs and their lack of weapons.

Rooftop Jerry holstered his pistol and slid to the ground. “Sorry about that, but you can’t be too careful, right? What are you two doing out here?”

“Hiking and camping,” Luis said. “Do you mind if we pitch our tent on the lee side of your house?” Although house was way too dignified for the shack. “We could help you nail down that tarp and tie down anything that might get blown.”

Jerry looked at the hut and then back at them.

Luis leaned forward and dropped his voice. “We wouldn’t bother your wife—me and Brandon, we’re a couple.”

“Hmph. Well, I could use a hand, that’s for sure. Help out, like you said, and you can pitch your tent.”

“No, they won’t. They’ll stay in the house with us.” The woman had come out of the cabin. She was a thin wisp wearing a man’s flannel shirt and grappling a two-year-old on her hip. The family had solved the potty-training issue in the most basic of ways, by leaving the little boy bare-assed.

Jerry tensed up. “Minnie . . .”

The woman raised her chin. “I’ll not leave strangers outside to be murdered. Mind you, it’ll be crowded—we can’t offer you food or bed, just floorspace.”

Luis exchanged a glance with Brandon. “Murdered?”

“Now, Minnie . . .”

“Bigfoot,” Minnie said. “If you was camping nearby, you’re lucky to be alive.”

“Bigfoot.” Brandon scrubbed a hand over his mouth, but it didn’t disguise the smile in his eyes.

Luis wasn’t tempted to smile—if Quick-draw Jerry saw one of the mammoths, he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot to protect his family.

“Maybe it wasn’t Bigfoot,” Jerry said. “It ran off before I got close enough to see it good. But if it was a bear, it was the biggest damn bear I ever saw in my life. Huge, hairy thing.”

“It came here last night,” Minnie said. “Ate everything in the garden.” Her face collapsed in tears. “Everything. I don’t know how we can make it.”

Jerry put a hand over her shoulder. “It’s a setback, that’s for sure. Look, you want proof? Come up here, I’ll show you.”

Jerry led them up the path to the little garden. “Look at it. My wife put her heart into that garden. We were counting on the vegetables to get us through the winter. But now . . .”

It had been trampled. Bits of cabbage leaves, turnip greens, and carrot tops were scattered, along with a few straggly cannabis plants. Huge gouges scarred the dirt.

Luis felt sick. One of the mammoths, maybe more than one, had eaten everything in sight, using their tusks to dig out some innocent family’s store of food.

Jerry pointed to the ground where a wide, flat foot had left a circular footprint. “See that? That’s no moose or bear.”

Brandon leaned down, pretending to examine the footprint closely. “I’ll be damned. You might have something here. A genuine Bigfoot sighting.”

“You got a phone or something you can take a picture? Here, I’ll put my foot next to it so’s you can see how big it is.”

Brandon obligingly snapped shots. “Tell me who to send them to, and I’ll forward the pictures as soon as we get back into cell tower range. Maybe you could make some money off that. An eyewitness account of Bigfoot ought to be worth something.”

Luis nodded approval. A Sasquatch rumor could be very useful in obscuring any random mammoth sightings.

“I’d appreciate it.” Jerry chewed his lip. “I’ll need something. I’m not sure Minnie will want to stay here, not with Bigfoot around.”

As they returned to the hut, Brandon whispered, “What do you think? Diamond?”

“Or Turq, or both.” All the mammoths loved carrots and turnips. No garden would be safe now that the clever animals had learned to sniff them out of the ground. “We’ll have to get them out of the area as soon as we can.”

“Sure, as soon as the storm passes.”

Brandon joined Jerry on the roof, using the butt of his camp hatchet to tack the tarp over the plywood while Luis helped Minnie salvage what was left of the vegetables.

“You were camping nearby?” she asked. “You must have heard something.”

Luis tried to look innocent. “Nothing unusual, but we were a few miles upstream.”

“Jerry went out with his pistol and took a couple of shots at it, trying to scare it off, you know? He just made it mad, I think. It roared like a lion, scared little Mikey half to death.”

Shit. Luis hoped Jerry’s aim was bad. “I’m sorry it damaged your garden.”

She shook her head. “I’ve prayed and prayed, but I don’t see how we can stay. I just don’t