Cryptid Island Read online

  “When you land, you’ll find a truck rental waiting. I’ll send you the coordinates to where a guide will be waiting for you.”

  “And what will we be looking for exactly?” Jack asked.

  “Indonesian short-nose fruit bats. Pteropus. They’re a species of megabat. Find them and it should lead you to our real prize. The ahool.”

  “Is that like the flying fox?” Jack asked, thinking back to the endangered species list posted on their blog.

  “If you’re referring to the giant golden-crown flying fox, those are in the Philippines and have been reported as weighing three pounds with a wingspan of six feet. No, the ahool is much, much bigger.”

  “How big?” Miguel had to ask.

  “Hopefully, next time we talk, you’ll be telling me.”

  “I’ve got a question,” Jack asked.

  “What’s that?”

  “Why only blood and not try and capture these creatures.”

  “Are you volunteering?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “It’s safer this way,” Nora assured.

  “But what do you do with the blood?”

  “All part of our research. I better sign off. And please, do be careful.”

  The computer screen went to black.

  “You don’t think this is a little bit strange?” Jack asked Miguel. “Why all the secrecy about what they do with the blood?”

  “It’s quite obvious.” Miguel closed his laptop.

  “Yeah? Care to share?”

  “She’s a vampire.”

  “Real funny,” Jack said, but he wasn’t laughing.

  ***

  After landing and getting their rental vehicle—a four-wheel drive Ford Explorer with a moldy-smelling interior—Miguel plotted a GPS route taking them to a disused logging road snaking deep into the jungle. When they arrived at their destination, a barefoot man wearing a black songkok cap, gray over-sized shirt, and a sarong was waiting for them, sitting on a log.

  Jack and Miguel got out of the Explorer to introduce themselves.

  “I am Teguh.” The guide gave them a bow.

  Jack noticed a large tooth hanging on the end of a chain around Teguh’s neck. “Is that from a jaguar?”

  Teguh rubbed his thumb over the smooth surface of the fang. “Ahool.”

  “No way that’s a bat tooth. That has to be over three inches long,” Miguel said.

  “So how do we snare one of these things?” Jack looked around. He didn’t see any tranquilizer guns to subdue the animal or spears with the ability to collect blood samples.

  Teguh picked up his rifle leaning against the log.

  “Now there’s a relic.” Jack recognized the World War II vintage M1 Garand.

  “We hunt.” Teguh raised the .30 caliber rifle in the air like a Native American Indian on horseback ready to charge into battle.

  “Wait a minute,” Miguel said. “We’re not here to kill it. We just need some of its blood.”

  “I get you blood.” Teguh took off down a narrow trail into the tropical forest.

  Jack looked at Miguel. “Do you think he understood?”

  “I don’t know. But we better not lose him.” Miguel headed down the path.

  Jack followed closely behind.

  Teguh kept to a steady pace as they hiked through the trees, the thick canopy blocking out the sky.

  Jack felt something squish under his boot. He looked down. He’d stepped on a half-rotten piece of fruit. The ground around him was littered with ripened fruit having fallen from the trees.

  “We’re in the middle of a mango grove,” Miguel said.

  Teguh stood close to a tree trunk. He threw back the bolt action on the M1 Garand. He stared up into the overhead branches.

  “What is it?” Jack asked.

  “They’re up there.”

  “What?” Jack put his hand on the grip of his Colt revolver. He gazed up at an opening between the treetops. He shielded his eyes from the sun. “All I see are mangoes.”

  “Those aren’t mangoes,” Miguel said. “They’re bats!”

  “Jesus, they’re huge.”

  Teguh fired off a single shot into the air.

  Hundreds of screeching bats burst from the branches.

  The startled creatures descended on them like a twister.

  Jack covered his head, dropping to his knees. The frantic bats swirled around him, their clawed feet raking the back of his shirt.

  A bat crashed to the ground. It had a wingspan of four feet. It looked like a three-pound rodent strapped to a hand glider. Still stunned from the fall, the bat used its claws on the front of its wings to pull itself across the ground toward a nearby bush.

  A giant winged beast crashed through the trees with a deafening shriek, scattering the fruit bats.

  Jack could feel the powerful wings buffeting the air around him; swirling dust like rotary blades of a hovering helicopter. He glanced up at the colossal megabat looking as though it had flown off the page of a graphic horror novel. The bat’s wings were as broad as a skydiver’s parachute. It had massive four-talon feet big enough to snatch up a large sheep.

  The ahool swooped down, sinking its claws into Teguh’s shoulders. Teguh screamed. He dropped his rifle. The giant bat hoisted the man into the air, as he kept kicking his bare feet all the way up into the treetops.

  Miguel stood, brushing some guano off his shirt. “How are we going to explain this one? That makes two guides now we’ve lost.”

  “Definitely not good.” Jack saw the M1 Garand lying on the ground. He walked over, picking up the rifle. He noticed Teguh’s necklace in the dirt. He snatched up the chain, putting it in his shirt pocket.

  Miguel did a slow pivot while staring down the gun sight of his Desert Eagle. “I don’t think I want to be around when that thing comes back.”

  “I’m with you brother.”

  They hustled back along the trail to where they had parked the Explorer.

  Miguel sat in the front passenger seat. He immediately turned on his laptop.

  After a few minutes, they had Nora on ChatLine. She looked apprehensive, as though she wasn’t expecting them to contact her so soon indicating something had gone wrong.

  Miguel relayed what had happened. That Teguh was probably dead, though there was no real way of confirming unless they went back which they had no intention of doing.

  She reacted to the terrible news by saying, “Oh my God. Does this mean you weren’t able to get a blood sample?”

  “Whoa. A man just died. I mean, we think he did.” Jack couldn’t believe her callousness.

  “I’m sorry, I really am. I know how insensitive that must have sounded but I’ve been under a lot of pressure.”

  “Maybe it’s time you explained what we’re really doing out here.”

  “I will, Jack, but not just yet. I really wish you could have gotten me something from the ahool.”

  “Wait a minute.” Jack took Teguh’s necklace out of his shirt pocket.

  “What do you have there?” Nora leaned closer to the camera lens on the top of her computer, making her face appear bigger on Miguel’s screen.

  Jack held up the chain. “Teguh was wearing it. He said the tooth was from an ahool.”

  “Oh my God, Jack. That’s fantastic news!”

  “It is?”

  “Go back to the airport. We’ll arrange to have someone meet you there and get the tooth.”

  “And then what?”

  “You’ll be given your next assignment.”

  Jack and Miguel watched the laptop screen go blank.

  “I don’t know about you, Jack, but I think I’m ready for a little vacation from all this.”

  “You and me, both.”

  20

  SOCOTRA

  Located off the horn of Somalia near the Gulf of Arden and the Arabian Sea, the island of Socotra had been described as “the most alien-looking place on Earth.”

  As a kid, Jack and his parents spent many weekends
and vacations traveling to different states, camping and hiking. Many of his favorite places were memorable because of their strange landscapes like watching the dead moonscape of the limestone pinnacles in Mono Lake, California, transform into a fantasy world during a purplish sunset or witnessing the active hydrothermal geysers in Yellowstone National Park, Wyoming, spewing like clockwork every minutes or trekking the floor of Bryce Canyon, Utah, and gawking up at the 10-story rock spires.

  As wondrous as those locations were to him growing up, he had to admit the archipelago island was the most bizarre with its unusual rocky topography and plant life; dragon blood trees that looked like giant green umbrellas and behemoth cucumber trees that sprouted right out of the rocks like gigantic sweet potatoes crowned with budding flowers making the land appear like a magical kingdom.

  The isolated island was only eighty miles long and thirty miles wide but was teeming with 700 endemic species of which 37% of the plants were found exclusively on Socotra.

  Professor Nora Howard strongly believed of the animals occupying the island, two of the indigenous creatures were on her cryptozoology list, which was why she agreed to Jack and Miguel’s request to go there for a little rest and relaxation as long as they squeezed in a couple of cryptid expeditions.

  The best part for Miguel was he was able to use some of the funds they had acquired from the past adventures and purchase plane tickets for Maria and Sophia to fly them to the island.

  After a blissful reunion at the airport, Miguel, Maria, and Sophia took a shuttle across the island where they drove by urban dwellings constructed of hewn stone with lavishly whitewash-trimmed windowed façades, apartment structures built on the side of high cliffs, some perched precariously on top of seemingly inaccessible buttes.

  A short while later, they arrived at a remote stone house on a grassy ridge overlooking a white sandy beach with a spectacular view of the azure blue Indian Sea.

  Jack opened the sliding door on the minivan. “Hey, missed you guys.”

  Sophia jumped into Jack’s waiting arms. He spun her playfully.

  “I missed you, too, Uncle Jack,” a moniker Jack cherished even though there was no blood relation. Not married, and having no kids of his own, it was a nice privilege to be able to share some of Miguel and Maria’s joy.

  Maria climbed out of the minivan. She gave Jack an affectionate hug, kissing him on the cheek. “Nice to see that woman hasn’t gotten you both killed.”

  “So, I guess Miguel filled you in.”

  “Every detail.”

  “Not to worry.” Jack turned to introduce the owners of the house. “Maria, Sophia, I would like you to meet Amin Raab and his lovely wife, Asha.”

  Amin wore a white lightweight shirt, a pair of loose fitting gray pants, and leather sandals. A janbiya was on his belt, the ceremonial dagger worn by Arabic men.

  Asha was beautiful and looked stunning in her floor-length burnt orange dress, accentuating her natural curves.

  Amin came up first, placing his hands gently on Maria’s shoulders. He made a kissing gesture on each of Maria’s cheeks though not actually touching her with his lips, but making tiny smacking sounds. Asha stepped forward and repeated the same greeting.

  The couple leaned forward, smiled at Sophia, and together said, “Hello.”

  “Hello,” Sophia replied and smiled back. She raised her right hand and shook Amin then Asha’s hand.

  “Amin and Asha have been kind enough to let us stay with them during our visit,” Jack told Maria.

  “Thank you so much,” Maria said.

  “You are so welcome,” Asha replied. “I hope you are hungry. I have prepared lunch.” Asha showed Maria and Sophia inside the modest home.

  “Let me give you a hand with those bags.” Jack lugged out two travel suitcases. Miguel paid and thanked the shuttle driver, who drove off and headed back down the rural road.

  As soon as they’d put the bags in one of the rooms made up for the Wallas, everyone assembled around a long wooden dining table with benches and a single chair at each end designated for the head of the house and his wife. Asha had gone all out and set out a wonderful feast with bowls of rice and beans and various other dishes.

  “To start, we have maraq. I hope you enjoy it,” Asha said. Each serving had been poured in a teacup with a spoon and a lemon wedge on the saucer.

  Maria tried her soup. “This is very good. What is it?”

  “It is a Yemeni lamb broth.”

  Some of the table settings had a fork, knife, and spoon laid out for the houseguests. Everyone had their own individual salad plates of tomatoes and cucumbers topped with yogurt.

  Asha had simmered two types of stews: matfaiya, which was kingfish chunks in a tomato sauce, and fahsah, a hearty lamb stew. She had recently baked so there were four large plates of malawah, a traditional Yemeni flat bread, enough to go around for everyone.

  Afterwards for dessert, Asha brought out a tray of freshly fried qamir, sweet dough treats that looked like triangular-shaped egg rolls.

  To drink, Asha, Maria, and Sophia had karak, a milk tea made with evaporated milk and cardamon spices. The men capped their meals off with the Arabic coffee, qahwah.

  Jack sat back from the table, patting his full stomach. “That was very good, Asha, thank you.”

  “You are very welcome, Jack.”

  After lunch, Maria and Sophia helped Asha clear off the table and carry dishes into the kitchen. Amin took Jack and Miguel outside to a small area set up with chairs overlooking the water. He poured raisin wine for the three of them.

  “You have yourself quite the paradise,” Miguel said, taking a sip of his wine as he enjoyed the magnificent view of the sea.

  “Yes. Asha and I are very happy here.”

  “Have you always lived on the island?” Jack asked.

  “No. We came here ten years ago hoping to escape the unrest.”

  “You’re talking about the Yemeni Revolution?”

  “That’s right. I fear the sea is not wide enough to keep it from our shores. Already soldiers are here patrolling our airport.”

  “They are intimidating,” Miguel said. “Maria and Sophia were a little nervous getting off the plane and walking through the terminal.”

  “I’m afraid it will only get worse.” Amin drank down his wine. He offered to fill Jack and Miguel’s glasses, which his guests graciously declined.

  “So what’s the plan for the rest of the day?” Miguel asked Jack.

  “No plan. Have fun with your family.”

  Miguel looked at Amin. “Is there a path down to the beach?”

  “On the other side of those rocks,” Amin said, pointing to some boulders on the grassy ridge.

  “I think I’ll take Maria and Sophia down for a swim. Care to come along?”

  Jack shook his head. “Nah, you guys go ahead. I think I’ll take a little snooze. Give me time to digest some of Asha’s good cooking.” Jack looked over at Amin, patting the man on the shoulder.

  Amin raised the bottle of raisin wine.

  “Ah, what the heck. We’re on vacation.” Jack held out his glass.

  Miguel went inside the house.

  Ten minutes later, he came out with Maria and Sophia. He had changed into a pair of swimming trunks and a T-shirt. Maria and Sophia wore two-piece bathing suits. They carried towels over their shoulders. Miguel swung a small wicker basket at his side filled with a glass bottle of fresh well water and a few snack-size morsels of goat’s cheese and bread.

  Once beyond the rocks, Miguel led the way down a traversing pebble path to the beach. The sand was so white it looked like fine granules of bleached salt. Once they’d picked a spot, Maria and Sophia laid out their towels. Miguel spread his out, placing the picnic basket on one end. He pulled his T-shirt up over his head, tossing it on the towel. “Last one in is a rotten tamale.”

  Miguel dashed across the sand. He splashed into the water, diving into the crystal clear ocean. He swam underwater for fifty feet then b
urst up through the surface.

  He shook his shaggy black hair like a dog expelling water from its coat.

  Standing up to his waist in the water, he raised his arm and yelled, “You better get your...” but then he saw Maria and Sophia standing apprehensively at the water’s edge.

  “What’s wrong?” he yelled.

  Maria pointed over Miguel’s shoulder. When he turned, he saw half a dozen dorsal fins knifing through the water in a circling pattern, maybe a hundred feet away.

  “Miguel, get out of the water!” Maria shouted.

  He glanced at the shore. Sophia jumped up and down, screaming, “Daddy, Daddy! Sharks!”

  Miguel turned. The fins were no longer cruising in a circle. They were headed straight for him.

  “Damn it, Miguel! Get out of there!”

  He could see their sleek backs speeding toward him.

  Miguel raised his arms and came down fast, slapping his hands on the water. He repeated the movement wanting his presence to be known. He prayed his actions didn’t give Maria a heart attack and worry Sophia too much.

  The first dolphin whooshed by his right leg, the displacement of water pushing him out of the way. A second dolphin swam by his other side. Soon the entire pod was doing a merry-go-round, curious of this two-legged creature that had ventured into their playground. Knowing they wouldn’t harm him, Miguel dipped his hands into the water so his fingertips could caress each passing dolphin.

  A school of shiny fish drew the dolphins away.

  Miguel waded back to shore.

  “Jesus, Miguel, I thought for sure...” Maria wrapped her arms around him as if he was about to accidentally step back off a cliff.

  “I was never in any danger.”

  “You scared me half to death.”

  “Come in, the water’s great.”

  “Maybe later. Let’s go lie in the sun.”

  “Okay.” Miguel felt bad for upsetting Maria. He followed her over to the towels.

  Sophia ran up to him. “Daddy, can I look for shells?”

  “Sure.”

  “But stay away from the water,” Maria said sternly. “And don’t go far. I want to be able to see you.”

  “Okay, Mama.” Sophia shuffled off in the sand.