MADISON
“Odin,” Chase said confidently. His eyes rolled skyward in deep thought, but only for a moment. “Jaws.”
We were standing outside, at the edge of the trees again. Insects buzzed. A hawk screamed. The sun was rising fast, bathing the old farm field in golden light.
“Fang!” said Chase, snapping his fingers. “It’s gotta be Fang!”
Julian hadn’t said a single word. His fingers were busy working the trail camera, which he’d just unstrapped from a nearby tree.
“Anything on it?” I asked impatiently.
“Can’t tell yet,” he said, punching a few buttons. “I’m not sure where the— Ah, there it is.”
The little LED screen on the back of the camera box suddenly blinked on. The three of us huddled around it as digital photos began to appear. First in daylight — when Noah had first turned the unit on — then in fuzzy, green-grey night vision photos of the field before us.
“There… go slow.”
We held our breath as Julian scrolled through. One by one images flashed across the screen, most containing nothing but insects and orbs.
“I thought this thing had a motion sensor?” I asked.
“It does,” confirmed Julian.
“Then why is it—”
“It must be hyper-sensitive,” the stonemason shrugged. “It’s taking pictures of moths and dragonflies, and—”
He stopped abruptly at the next photo. There was something standing in the field. Something substantial.
“Holy shit…”
Though it was warm outside, my blood went totally cold. Our eyes were glued to the screen as Julian pressed the ZOOM button. Once. Twice. Three times…
All of a sudden, Chase was laughing.
“What?”
“It’s a deer!” he exclaimed.
“Not it’s not,” I frowned.
“Oh no? Look at it again. You’re taking pictures of deer!”
Julian zoomed a little more, then moved to the next photo. Sure enough, a big doe took up half the shot. The animal jumped around the field in the next several photos, lazing and grazing, its eyes glowing spookily every time it looked up at the camera. In the last photo on the disc, two more deer had joined the party as well.
“You’ve cracked the case,” Chase chided, but his joke fell flat. He scratched his head. “Are you sure that thing you saw wasn’t a wild animal?”
Julian and I both looked at each other.
“Yes,” we said in perfect unison.
The rest of the SIM card on the trail camera was unfortunately blank. It was disappointing, but at the same time it was also a relief. Maybe Julian had scared the thing away. Maybe it would never come back.
“You sure this is all you saw last night?” Julian asked me, holding up the trail camera. “Animals grazing in the field?”
“We didn’t even see that,” I said.
“Were you looking?”