Beastly Bones Book

[Galeno Kent]

Whendinosaur bones from a recent dig mysteriously go missing, and an unidentifiable beast starts attacking animals and people, leaving their mangled bodies behind, Abigail and her eccentric employer R. F. Jackaby, investigators of the supernatural in 1892 New England, find themselves hunting for a thief, a monster, and a murderer.

When the animals were discovered by the ASPCA, one could barely breathe and three had their bones jutting through their skin. One dog starved to death, according to Queens District Attorney Richard Brown.

In this module we explore and discuss the many archaeological questions to which animal remains can contribute, from Palaeolithic hunting to post-medieval trade, taking in topics such as domestication, environmental impact, and the cultural roles of animals along the way. Associated practical workshops provide a grounding in the zooarchaeologist's basic toolkit: age and sex determination, quantification, metrics, and butchery analysis. The module will be useful for anyone who needs to read and interpret zooarchaeological reports, as well as those planning to study animal bones directly.

The last few weeks are given over to the Yok Hyk research simulation workshop which allows students to recreate the entire zooarchaeological research process in the context of a fictional Neolithic excavation in Turkey: developing research questions, applying sampling strategies, and analysing and interpreting results.

Three Golden retrievers sat on the front porch in a little puddle of moonlight, as pretty as you please, with just the tips of their tails wagging as if they were valiantly trying to contain their mirth. Clutched in each mouth was the black plastic handle of a Jack-o-lantern candy bucket. Contents of said bucket: nothing.

Midge handed them out after she received the sniff-and-lick treatment, and they munched contentedly for a few minutes, licking up every stray crumb that fell. I looked at Midge and she gave that small shrug she always gave when faced with a perplexing situation.

Since we were all now fast friends, I took the opportunity to check their necks for any collars or ID. No go. They were clearly well cared for and well-groomed, but where they came from, we had no idea. I also confirmed that all three were, indeed, boys.

After the treats, they all took turns making a run at the water bowl, then sat back down in a line and looked up at us with expectant eyes. They then leaned down and picked up their Jack-o-lantern buckets again. I caught one of them looking over by the hearth, where we had a large sheepskin rug set before a cozy fire.

A large shadow loomed before me and the smell of decay suddenly intensified. I caught a glimpse of something very large and very hairy, and felt the air beside me part with a whoosh as a gargantuan paw swiped at me.

I blindly swung the heavy wood carrier at it and felt it connect with a meaty thud. The sound of sharply exhaled air gave way to that same low and rough-edged growl, which then morphed into a keening howl.

Midge and I stood in the hall, rooted with terror and awe at the spectacle unfolding before us. As the dogs jumped and yelped at the door, a final booming thud sounded and the door flew into the house. The dogs narrowly missed being crushed as the door landed in the front hall in a cloud of plaster dust.

Rain poured into the house and the porchlight outlined the immense furred shape standing in the doorway. I only caught a glimpse, but it was easily 7 feet tall with massive shoulders that spanned the doorway and teeth that shone like desert bones. It threw back its huge head and let out another deafening roar, breath steaming.

All three leapt and hung on by their teeth, trying to get at its great, thick neck. It swept at them with its huge paws, but as soon as it had knocked one off, the other two dogs would set on it. I could see it was almost toppling over from the weight of three attacking dogs, and it took a step backwards to steady itself.

The dogs sensed the change in posture and must have taken it to mean they had the upper hand and the tide was changing in their favor. They leapt with renewed fervor, swerving to avoid muscular forearms and sharp claws, jaws clamping on befouled fur.

We were awoken by scratching and whining at what was left of the front door. A paw (thankfully, a normal-sized dog paw and not the least bit werewolf-y) managed to poke between the door and the bent and twisted doorframe, as if beckoning us.

The clock read 2:58 a.m. and the fire was down to embers. The storm still raged on outside. I threw a log on the fire and clutched the rifle as I looked out the living room window towards the remains of the front door.

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