“I saw the tracks and so did my men. That’s why they were away from us. I asked them to get closer and identify what was there.”
The journalist almost said something, then stopped.
“Yeah, it’s my fault,” the guide admitted. “Still, I’m not dying to save anyone else. As Bashar will say, it’s not in the contract.”
Jones nodded.
“Then tell me what we’re up against.”
The hunter pushed back his hat as he came closer and leaned against a tree. He looked around, then let out a breath.
“Like I said, I’m not sure. But the things happening fit what I remember as a kid. My dad used to tell me about the Native Americans who claimed when the gods grew bored, they descended from the sky to feed upon the people. He said they came from the Taurus constellation every twelve years to wreak havoc of the land.”
“So, you’re saying their UFOs?” Jones’ skeptical tone caused Andersen to push away from the tree.
“Call it what you want. I just know that the people who lived this land long before us were afraid of these so-called gods. They claimed the gods stayed invisible in the night and observed those who wandered into their range. Those from the sky entered the minds of the people and forced them to do things. It’s been twelve years since the last occurrence. I remember dad said there were missing people.”
He shook his head wearily.
“Hell, I didn’t believe in this idea much until everything started happening to us. But it explains what happened to my men as well.”
“Seriously, don’t tell me you really believe this hocus-pocus superstition?” The journalist insisted.
Andersen shrugged.
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