Campfire Myth Captured

Where Detective Fraser searches for the answer to an ongoing mystery.

Campfire Capture

Detective Fraser inserted the recovered card reader, opened the video file and hit the play icon.

The bloodstained video card.

The video began to run. Low resolution, ambient noise and trembling hand-held quality, captured the moments before the boys’ misadventure. Low sunlight slanted through tall gum trees. Grey clouds hung low overhead, stealing light from each frame. The flare and crackle of a campfire became the focus of the film. Each boy took his turn adding wood and bark to the conflagration.

“You'll be wanting it to burn all night,” Sean said. “To be sure to keep dingoes away.” Sean’s pale skin, green eyes and reddish hair marked him as an Irish tourist, before the accent in his voice betrayed his origin.

Fraser hated the need to deal with grieving relatives, especially when they came from overseas. 

“Dingoes, yes, but what about snakes? Will the heat attract them?” British backpacker James, asked. “I have read of incidents when they crawl into a sleeping bag for warmth”

“Argh. I hate snakes. And spiders.” The American drawl belonged to Angus. “Do y'all know Australia has heaps of really venomous varieties? There are death adders, vipers, the funnel webs, not to mention dangerous ticks…”

“Don’t listen to Angus.” The cameraman’s voice blared. He seemed unaware of his proximity to the camera mic. “If we haven’t had any problems in the last three nights, it is unlikely we will have trouble tonight. Besides, this looks like a popular spot. We might even have company…whoever left all the camping gear should be back soon."

"Looks like a family. Perhaps they will return when they see our fire." Angus agreed.

"Getting lost can be more dangerous than all the toxic creatures that live here." Rodney sounded confident. "There is no way we will get lost. We brought a GPS with us. Just think, there are no bears, mountain lions, crocodiles, or coyotes. And at this time of year the ticks and snakes are not a real problem. Relax, bro. This is the Australian bush.”

“Fair enough, Rodney. You’re the expert.” James nodded, poking at the flames. He glanced over his shoulder to the darkening sky. “We should prepare our gear for the night while there is still light. It’s your turn to wash up, Sean.”

“As soon as I heat some water.” Sean moved into the video’s frame, carrying a blackened saucepan brimming with water and placed it near the fire. “Rodney, to be sure no one wants to watch the washing up. Don’t waste the battery. We will need it for later.”

The video stopped. Fraser leaned toward the computer screen, squinted and chose the next file. Again the video began to roll, obviously now set on a solid surface, it offered steady pictures of the group around the campfire. In this segment night allowed the firelight to dominate the frames. The shadowed images of the boys’ faces flickered and flared. Recognisable but hardly handsome. The expressions on their faces alternated between aghast, disbelief, and fear. Fraser strained to hear the conversation.

“The bunyip yowled and sank below the billabong’s dark surface.” Sean’s voice dropped to a whisper. “No one ever saw the old man or his dog, again.”

“Nothing? No body, no remains?” Angus scoffed. “Even myths need to follow logic. A bunyip? Really, could it get rid of the bodies so completely?”

“Angus, you sure know how to ruin a good campfire story. I liked it, Sean. Gave me goosebumps,” James admitted.

“Yeah, me too. Good ol' Aussie critters, some people swear they've seen them,” Rodney added. “Speaking of which, I swear I heard a grumbling growl while Sean was talking. Sounded weird. Did any of you hear it too?”

Angus turned, his face half in shadow. His shoulders shook slightly though the camera remained still. His expression showed concern. “Come on, I thought it was you, Rod, doing your animal noises…only badly.”

“Not me.” Rodney shook his head.       

 “And you are supposed to be the knowledgeable one. Great.” Sean hugged himself as though suddenly cold. “Don’t koalas make a dreadful noise?”

“True.” Rodney nodded. “I haven’t heard one for real, but they are said to sound like an engine running without oil. People who have them living nearby complain about the noise they make.”

Even through the camera mic Fraser heard a sound that made his blood curdle. He wanted to close his eyes but he watched the video as Sean flinched. “A noise like that?”

Angus, Rodney and James turned to look beyond the camera.

“Holy Shite. Did you hear that?” Rodney’s voice rose.

“What creature makes a sound so blood-curdlingly awful?” Angus scowled. “Is this some sort of prank?”

“A bunyip, perhaps?” James offered with a shrug. “Perhaps a yowie? Come on, guys. Who is doing this? Enough. I am seriously freaked out.”

“Angus… you are always looking at the logical explanation… what gives?”

“I suggest we investigate. The abandoned campsite… perhaps the other campers are playing tricks on us. I don’t buy that sound came from a living creature.”

“Oh god… not a dead one?” Sean crossed himself.

“No you idiot, I think we are being pranked and I for one will not sit here pissing in my pants. Y'all grab a burning branch, a solid log, and the mallet we used for the tent pegs and let’s see who has the last laugh when we spoil their fun.”

 The film bounced, as though Rodney had attached the camera to his belt.

Fraser tried to focus  as Rodney rushed to grab a burning branch and follow the others.

Sean’s shout brought Rodney to a halt, all four boys gathered in a trembling huddle. On the path ahead of them, bathed in silver moonlight and caressed by ruddy torch light, awful in their grotesque silence, lay the bodies of three humans.

Two adults and a child. Hideous injuries, black chasms gouged in flesh, obscuring their humanity.

Horror filled the camera’s frame. Rodney stepped closer, allowing the awful detail to etch into film. He turned and Fraser heard the wrenching sound of the boy vomiting. The camera focused on leaf strewn ground. Only sticky black shadows showed the presence of congealed blood.

“This isn’t a prank, Angus.” James’ voice broke the silence. “We should get out of here. Who would do such a thing?”

Sean lifted his torch, swinging light across the path. “Or what? There is nothing we know of that preys on people, is there?”

Rodney straightened, lifting the camera’s focus again to include the other youths, depicted in spears of red flame and the harsh blades of silver torch light.

“Have you ever heard of ‘drop bears’?”  His voice shook. “I didn’t think they existed. But this… this makes me think they do.”

Angus shook his head, bracing as the bush reverberated with a rumbling growl.

“Oh my god! Did you hear that?” His features contorted. “We need to get the hell out of here!”

“Run!” James yelled. He bumped into Sean as he sprinted away from the gruesome scene.

Rodney stepped backwards. He dodged James. Sean scrambled to his feet and lunged passed at a run.

A growl covered the boys’ shouts. Angus’ flaming branch spun toward a moving shadow.

The hair on Fraser’s neck stood on end as he watched the dark shape descend from the branches of a eucalypt. Like a possum flying through the air, a creature the size of a large dog grabbed Angus. Ignoring the flames, it slashed clawed limbs around the youth’s face and neck.

Rodney’s flight dragged focus away from Angus’ plight. His scream scored into Fraser’s mind. The camera’s focus showed the boy’s attempt to escape. The sound of Sean howling drove Rodney’s feet faster. A guttural roar, a shrill scream and Rodney’s flight paused. The youth turned in time to see a set of gleaming teeth glint in the moonlight.

There was a cacophony of gnashing, growling and yowling. The camera now focused on the leaves above the path, silhouetted against the beautiful full moon.

Fraser rubbed at a cramp in his shoulder.

A shadow crossed above the camera. For an instant Fraser looked into the glowing eyes of Australia’s lethal legend, the mythical drop bear.

With a final lurch the video stopped. Fraser sighed.

Seven dead in two days. The drop bear had gorged on their flesh and disappeared. It might not return for months, or years. No one knew the creature’s habits. No one had ever captured its image before.

The thrill of being able to prove the existence of a myth paled against the need to counsel those who had lost loved ones.

A simple, safe camping trip should not cost lives.

Then, no one should dismiss the warnings at the edge of the park. “Beware  Drop Bears”

***

For more information on DROP BEARS... visit Australian Museum or Aust Geographic article
DROP BEARS are on facebook too.
Thank goodness Koalas are not bears. They are marsupials. But they are not cuddly. ;)

Rosalie Skinner resides on the east coast of Australia when not totally immersed in the fantasy world of her writing.

Rosalie’s love of the ocean, nature, history and horses has enabled her to give her books an authentic air. Her latest achievement has been to ride through the Australian Snowy mountains and see the wild brumbies run. When not watching the migrating whales pass her doorstep she has more humble pastimes.

Other than being a published author, her greatest thrill is being a grandmother. Born over fourteen weeks early her granddaughter’s perfect development and growth are a miracle and joy.

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Let’s Talk About Camp

Kai's husband enjoying their isolation in Cornucopia, OR

Growing up, my family didn’t go camping. I never really developed a taste for it. And yet, when this discussion thread posts, I’ll be starting my tent camping summer vacation. We are visiting the Grand Canyon, Zion and Bryce National Parks as well as any ‘largest ball of twine’ or other sites we might stumble upon on the way. I’m willing to put up with some sleepless nights in order to explore our astounding country.

I remember in sixth grade I went to summer camp with a friend. We slept on cots, in platform tents. Really, not the worst situation possible. However, being in the Midwest and next to a lake, we had to sleep under mosquito netting. Just as I dropped off to sleep one night, I heard a buzzing close to my ear. I slapped my hand over my ear and trapped the fly inside. Smart move! I still flinch at a buzzing sound. A couple nights later I was awoken by someone tickling my foot. Or rather, something. I awoke to find the silhouette of a raccoon, standing on his back feet, trying to capture my toes with his paws and mouth. Luckily the heavy canvas of the tent between him and my tootsies made that darn near impossible.

The summer after my sophomore year of high school I went to camp with a different friend and I fell madly in crush with a boy. Nothing happened, but we remained friends for quite a while afterward. He and his sister and his best friend even worked with me for a short time. So not all my earliest camping experiences were horrible.

What about you? Do you enjoy camping? Do you sleep in a tent? Refuse anything less than an RV? Sleep under the stars? Were you a camp counselor? Go to band camp? Let’s talk about the pros and cons of camping.

Tales From the Field: Olivia's Camp Fail by Katie L. Carroll

Sometimes the hardest person to forgive is yourself.

The table sags under heaping containers of salad, pasta, and rolls at our pregame party the night before the big match against our cross-town rivals Valley High. But all it takes for me to lose my appetite is one comment from team captain Megan.

“We don’t want a repeat of camp finals.”

The low rumble of conversation and the smack of full mouths immediately ceases as nearly every player on the Central High women’s soccer team looks at me. I lock my gaze on the fat meatball atop a pile of spaghetti covered with tomato sauce, which I’m sure matches the color of my face right now.

“What happened at camp?” asks Brooke. An innocent enough question, if you don’t know what happened this summer—which she doesn’t because freshmen don’t attend camp—but a terribly taboo one if you do know what happened.

Sadie comes to my rescue. “We lost in extra time to those stuck-up Valley girls, but it wasn’t Olivia’s fault.”

Finding the courage to look up from my plate, I smile at Sadie. She’s best friends with Addison Hunter, but we’ve grown a lot tighter since Hunter got hurt during preseason.

“It was my fault.” I’m the first to admit that.

I set my plate down on a TV tray and take in the eyes of all the girls in Denise’s living room. Most of them have looked away by now, but I meet Paloma’s dark brown ones, full with curiosity. She’s a sophomore, but didn’t attend camp because she’s new to the team after moving here from Spain.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” she says in a soft accent.

“No, you and Brooke should know…” Heat rises up my neck to my face, and beads of sweat form under my sports bra. “It’s just embarrassing, that’s all.”

I take a deep breath and prepare to face not only the worst moment in my soccer career but probably my love life as well. It all started on the first day of our weeklong co-ed camp at the state university campus. As both of Central High’s varsity teams piled off the school bus, I noticed Valley’s bus was right in front of ours. And one of their players was staring right at me.

He had dark brown hair, shiny with gel, and a tan face. A flash of a smile exposed a chipped top tooth, and I remember running my tongue over my own straight, smooth teeth. He wore a jersey of the Italian national team, baggy soccer shorts, and blue socks with white stripes at the top pulled all the way up to his knees. A duffel bag was slung loose over one shoulder.

He looked more like a model trying to be a soccer player than an actual player. You could tell his teammates worshipped him by the way they surrounded him. Most of them had tried to copy his style but none quite pulled it off the way he did. Everything about him screamed arrogance; not my type at all.

Busy with training sessions in the morning and scrimmages in the afternoon, I didn’t really think about him most of the week. But every once in a while in the cafeteria or at the water station, I’d catch him staring at me. I kept hearing his teammates yelling his name across the fields. “Marco, I’m open!” “Marco, check this out!” “Marco! Marco! Marco!”

He was Valley High’s star player and leading goal scorer with an ego the size of Italy—his favorite team, of course. Absolutely not my type. Yet I was fascinated by him, and his seeming fascination of me.

None of this I told Brooke and Paloma. They just needed to know the facts. So I started the story on our last night of camp. We had the evening off in preparation for finals the next morning. The competition had been fierce over the week, but our team and Valley High’s team had risen to the top in the women’s bracket. We would face off with them after the men’s final game, and the whole camp would gather to watch both matches.

Valley’s men’s team had also made it to the finals, largely thanks to spectacular play by none other than Mr. Spectacular Himself Marco. Our men’s team would sadly be watching from the sidelines after losing in the quarterfinals.

Megan called a team strategy session that droned on for forever. When we were finally released, a bunch of us had decided to hang out in the common area of the college.

It was pretty crowded, but Sadie, Hunter, and I managed to find a free love seat by the TV to squeeze into together. We were watching Bend it Like Beckham when Marco and his entourage barreled into the common room. It seemed the whole room paused to take in His Magnificence. I spared him a glance before turning back to the movie.

Like a bee to honey, he zoomed right to the three of us. He perched himself on the arm of the love seat, forcing me to move my arm. I groaned, but he didn’t seem to hear it. An assault of cologne made my eyes water.

“You’re a goalie, right?” he asked.

“Yup.” I kept my gaze glued on the screen.

“Tough bunch, you goalies.” He pinched my arm. “Wanna go for a walk? We could trade victory stories.”

I grabbed my arm and glared up at him. Oh my God, who did this guy think he was? He smiled, showing off the chipped tooth like a badge of honor. Sadie and Hunter exchanged a look and giggled. Hunter, who was closet to me, elbowed me and mouthed, “Go.”

“No way,” I mouthed back.

They collectively pushed me up and out of my spot, practically into Marco’s lap. He took my hand in his, which I was surprised to find was a little sweaty, looked me right in the eyes, and said, “Please.”

I glanced back at my good-for-nothing teammates to find they had spread out to fill in my seat. Sadie raised an eyebrow at me and flicked her hand toward the door. Warmth spread across my face and I figured the fresh air would do me good.

I pulled my hand from Marco’s and muttered, “Fine,” as I headed toward the exit. He followed close behind. We walked around campus in silence for awhile. Finally we ended up on one of the grass practice fields.

Marco tried to take my hand again, but I tucked them under my armpits. He walked to the goal line, bent down, and kissed the white line. Then he lay on his back with his feet in the goal and his head on the field.

He extended his neck to look at me and a patted the goal line next to him before tucking his hands behind his head. “Come on. I'm  not going to kick you. Though I've done that to my fair share of goalies.”

Reluctantly I sat down next to him. There was no way I was laying down next to this guy.

“Being a goal scorer isn’t much different than being a goalie.” His eyes were closed as he quietly talked. “We both spend a lot of time thinking about this line we’re on. You want to keep the ball from crossing it, and I want to push it past. We take lots of risks in our positions. Our teams depend on us. We can make or break a game—a season—with one heroic move…or one mistake.” He stared up at me. “It’s a lot of pressure, isn’t it?”

I shrugged, unnerved by his intense honesty. “I guess.” When I play, I try not to think of the pressure, stay in the moment.

“I admire goalies,” he said. “I admire you, the way you play. You’re confident, but not in a showy way. I don’t know how to be like that. If I don’t strut my stuff on and off the field, I don’t have it…the confidence.”

My mouth suddenly turned very dry and I swallowed. “You’re a star with or without the strut.”

He sat and scooted right next to me, shoulder-to-shoulder. We were facing opposite directions but our mouths were lined up perfectly.

“I wish I could be more like you with your natural confidence.” I felt his breath on my lips as he talked. The cologne wasn’t so assaulting out there in the open. He leaned in. Just as our lips touched, a hissing sound filled my ears, and then we were getting soaked. The sprinklers had turned on!

I jumped to my feet and squealed. Marco let out a booming laugh. He took my hand and we ran around the field, jumping in the water like little kids. He walked me back to my dorm. I shivered in the night air and he rubbed the goose bumps off my arms.

Acting like a gentleman, he gave me peck on the cheek. I turned into his lips and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him in for a real kiss. After, he smiled, and for the first time, I found his chipped tooth enduring instead of irritating.

“Good luck tomorrow,” he said.

“You too.” I squeezed his hand and headed back to my room.

All of these memories come to me in a moment, but all I say to the girls is that Marco and I went for walk and got to know each other.

“They kissed!” Sadie giggles. I throw a pillow at her, almost knocking her plate of food on the floor.

“Lot of good it did me,” I say as my thoughts turn to the next morning. “They won their final game, Marco and Valley High. Then him and his teammates stayed to watch our game. They cheered for the Valley women’s team, naturally.”

Though Marco was more subdued than I had ever seen him. I had forced myself to focus on the game and thought no more of him.

“We were in extra time, tied 1-1. The Valley center midfielder kicked a ball over our defense. I ran out to get it. One of their forwards was racing towards me. Just before I reached the ball, I heard a familiar shout—“ my voice breaks off. My face burns with mortification.

It was Marco, cheering for her, not me. Not that I ever expected him to cheer for me over his school, but it was a shock to hear him rooting for them so exuberantly.

“What happened?” Brooke’s eyes are wide.

All I say is, “We lost.” What happened was I hesitated. The Valley forward got a foot on the ball and scored. The whistle blew. The game was over. 

“And it wasn’t just Olivia’s fault,” says Sadie, and I love her for coming to my defense. “That player and the ball had to get past the rest of us before they got to you.”

Megan cuts in, “Olivia lost her concentration. That’s what happened. But it won’t happen again, right?”

I shake my head. But I’m not convincing anyone, certainly not myself. I haven’t seen Marco since camp. He tried to talk to me as we waited to board the bus, but I huddled into the cocoon of my teammates.

Marco’s urgent voice reached me from behind their shoulders. “I just want a minute to talk.”

Sadie and Hunter shielded me, wouldn’t let him get close. I was able to avoid him then, but tomorrow I’m sure he’ll be at the game. I don’t know how I’ll react when I see him, and I can’t afford to lose my concentration again.

***

Stay tuned next month to find out how Olivia and the Central High women's team fares against cross-town rivals Valley High! Plus, don't miss all the other Tales From the Field. 

Katie L. Carroll is a mother, writer, editor, and soccer player. She began writing at a very sad time in her life after her 16-year-old sister, Kylene, unexpectedly passed away. Since then writing has taken her to many wonderful places, real and imagined. She wrote her YA fantasy ELIXIR BOUND so Kylene could live on in the pages of a book. Katie is also the author of the picture app THE BEDTIME KNIGHT and a contributor to THE GREAT CT CAPER, a serialized mystery for young readers. She lives not too far from the beach in a small Connecticut city with her husband and sons. For more about Katie, visit her website at www.katielcarroll.com.