by Chaz Hamilton
ID# 22349
“There are plenty of heroes who protect the concrete jungles
of the world, but some fight to protect the areas without skyscrapers and
subways. They stay hidden in the parks, nature reserves, and forests that, in
today’s high-tech world, often are left forgotten.” Chaz Hamilton said into the
camera. “Today, we are looking for one such hero. One that has been reported to
protect New Amsterdam’s largest natural preserve, Peyton’s Park.”
His cameraman, Mitchell, removed the camera from his
shoulder. “You know that this is just an urban legend. There isn’t a secret
hero of the forest here in New Amsterdam.”
“I’ve done the research. There are multiple police reports
describing people that were attacked while in this park and then saved by some
mysterious being out of nowhere.” Chaz replied as he started walking on one of
the marked pathways deeper into thickening forest.
“Couldn’t we just go interview the guy at that food truck
back there? Everyone loves a Taco Tuesday story.” Mitchell glanced up into the
trees ahead. Had something just jumped from one limb to another further up the
path?
He shook his head, dismissing his paranoia. What cape would hang
out in the middle of a park when there were supervillains like Dr. Fulcrum and
Vixen out there in the real world to deal with?
“Just keep the camera on me. We need some footage from out
here to work into the interviews with the eye-witnesses.”
The ventured deeper into the park. Tall oak, maple, and pine
trees towered over the two of them, blocking out most of the sunlight, despite
the lack of leaves on the branches. White snow laid untouched all around them,
blanketing the ground, except for the packed trail they walked that had been
groomed for skiing. Mitchell kept his camera trained on Chaz while he droned on
about the park and its history.
After several minutes, both men were breathing heavily in
the air, clouds of white vapor pluming out from their mouths.
“I thought it was supposed to be warm today,” Mitchell said
as he shivered as a cold breeze washed over them.
Chaz cupped his hands together and blew into them. “Blame it
on the weather department. You know that they are the only people that manage
to keep their jobs at the Sentinel while still being wrong half the time.”
Above them, a crack as loud as a gunshot broke the silence.
A large clump of snow fell and splattered on the path just ahead of them.
The two of them looked up and searched for the cause. The crisscrossed
patterns created by the layers of branches revealed nothing.
“Wind must have knocked it off,” Chaz said as he tromped
through the pile of snow and continued on. “Lucky. I’m glad it didn’t land on either
of us.”
Mitchell shook his head and followed with the camera cradled
in his arms. He kept his eyes on the layer of forest above them.
Blending into the canopy while balancing on a thick branch,
a silent observer watched them move on. A thick, black lip raised up in ire on
its feline face, revealing more of its sharp teeth. Thick fur protected it from
the cold weather and absorbed the sound it made as it rapidly leapt from tree
to tree, digging its sharp claws into the wood.
Chaz and Mitchell approached a stretch of river that ran
through the park. A small covered bridge extended from one bank to the other
side as water flowed quickly beneath the structure. The sides of the river had
a thin skin of ice built up on either side. Chunks of the ice broke off under
the pressure of the water’s flow and were carried downstream with the torrent.
Chaz pointed, “How about some footage from over there?”
Deeper snow than that they had been wandering through rested
in the area Chaz indicated. Mitchell made a disgusted face. “Can’t we just film
it from here?”
“We can, but I’d really like to get more of the scenery
behind me,” Chaz said. “Better footage, better chance at one of the broadcast awards
shows…”
Mitchell shook his head as he moved into the deeper snow. He
trudged up to his knees up the slope, cursing under his breath while he readied
his camera. “Now my feet are going to be wet for the rest of the day.”
“STOP!!!!” A commanding voice snarled from above him.
Mitchell spun around searching for the source and his footing
went out from beneath him. He began to reel, dropping the camera into the snow
as his arms whirled at his sides while he tried to keep from falling.
A white-and-gray furred man-beast leapt from a branch thirty
or forty feet in the air behind him and landed within inches of Mitchell. A
clawed hand reached out and grabbed at the equipment harness the cameraman wore,
securing him from falling backwards.
A large whoosh erupted as the snow behind the two of them collapsed
down into a large pit. The feline-humanoid turned Mitchell around so he could
see what he almost fell into.
Clearly female, the rescuer crouched down and sniffed at the
air. “A sinkhole. You need to stay on the paths. They're there for your
safety.”
“Th…th…thanks,” Mitchell said as he forced his heart back
down from his throat into his chest.
“I knew you would be out here.” Chaz moved through the snow
up towards the other two. “Can I get a statement from you—”
Snow Leopard leapt back into the canopy of branches and
disappeared from sight.
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