Spirits in the Park (29 page)

Askook, who had been watching Soka's party hike northward with amusement, decided to send his mind ahead, to see what fun he could stir up. Animals were his specialty. There was nothing like a pack of dangerous animals prowling outside the village to keep the Munsees afraid and eager to follow. Were there any suitably deadly beasts ahead? Casting about, he felt a flutter of minds racing through the forest directly in his victims' path. Oh yes, he thought with an evil grin. This will do just fine.

The afternoon passed as Bridget and her companions made their way north. Finally, they left the reservoir behind and approached some dense woodlands. They stopped for a bit to rest before entering the trees, and after a moment Hans piped up.

“I think we're being followed,” he said.

“What?” Finn looked skeptical, glancing behind them. “I haven't noticed anything.”

“That's because you've been too busy preening like a peacock in spring,” Hans replied, prompting Finn to scowl at him. Even his scowls looked pretty, Bridget thought sourly. “I turned on a special audio transmitter in my helmet that I normally use to find my way in the darkest of underground tunnels. I thought I'd keep an ear out, you know. And I've picked up something very strange. The mortals go in and out as they slip back and forth between our world and theirs, but there is also a consistent sound out there, a movement through the brush about a half hour behind us. Someone's tracking us.”

“Askook!” Soka cried. “I knew he wouldn't let us leave.”

“It could be an animal,” Finn replied. “Or maybe a friend who's bringing something you left behind?”

“No matter who, or what, it is, we should try to lose him,” Hans said.

“We can run in zigzags!” Bridget suggested. “That should confuse him!”

“Or we can just take to the water,” Soka suggested. “Our hunting camp isn't far from here on the banks of the Loch. If we can get there before Askook, or whoever's behind us, we can grab both the canoes and paddle north through the Ravine, leaving him behind.”

“Perfect!” Finn said, smiling widely. “You are such a quick thinker, Soka. I swear you're ready to be the medicine woman now. You have no reason to doubt yourself!”

Soka had already told him about her hopes and dreams? Bridget was aghast. The next step was holding hands! She stepped between the two.

“So where is this camp?” she asked.

“Not far,” Soka replied, still smiling at Finn. “I'll take you there, come on.”

They swiftly moved through the denser forest that engulfed this part of the park. Outcroppings of rock rose up on either side as they made their way down into the Ravine. Eventually, Bridget could hear the sound of running water. They burst out of the trees onto the banks of a swiftly moving stream. The sound of water gushing over the rocks as the sun shone overhead through the dense ceiling of leaves unexpectedly soothed Bridget's soul. She knelt down, placing her hand under the water, watching as the stream rushed over her skin. Her fingers looked like sticks floating in the river. For the first time since Soka had healed her, Bridget missed her real body. She would have liked to have felt the cool water on her hand. A splash broke her concentration as Tucket leaped into the stream, biting at a fish. She laughed; the dog looked so happy.

Suddenly Soka gasped behind her. “What happened to the camp!”

Bridget quickly sprang to her feet, hurrying after Soka and Finn. She rounded a small bend, almost stumbling into them as they surveyed the remains of what must have been the Munsee hunting camp.

A group of small tents lay along the riverbank nestled beneath a rock outcropping. They'd been torn to pieces—spears, food, and hides strewn everywhere. It was as if a tornado had hit the area. Finn crouched down by the nearest disaster.

“These are claw marks,” he said. He straightend quickly, his face panicked. “We need to go.”

“Why?” Bridget asked. Before Finn could answer, a howl rang out in the distance. Tucket perked up, a low growl forming in his throat. He'd already begun to grow larger, Bridget noticed. She swallowed as she looked in every direction for some sign of the source of the howl. Another howl followed the first, than a third. Tucket's growl was louder now, rumbling from his muzzle like a passing subway train.

“That doesn't sound good,” Hans said, climbing up onto her shoulder.

“Everyone move into the stream,” Finn said, already inching that way as he scanned the trees. “They don't love water.”

“Who doesn't love water?” Bridget asked, looking around in a panic. A final howl, practically in her ear, answered her, which was their last warning before the beasts were upon them.

A gray blur leaped from the stone outcropping above, right toward Soka. Another blur, this one tawny, intercepted it, wrestling the creature to the ground. Tucket had grown to the size of a small pony, and he used his size to keep the attacking animal on the ground.

“Coyotes!” Soka cried, moving toward the river while pulling out her knife. Another coyote joined the first, attacking Tucket from behind. Tucket reached around with his jaws and pulled the animal right off him. The coyotes were the size of lions, and saliva dripped from their snarling teeth as they circled the giant dog. A third coyote loped into view, coming at Tucket from a third side. That was enough for Bridget.

“What are you doing, Bridget!” Hans yelled in her ear.

“Hold on!” she cried. He clutched onto her hair for dear life as she ran right at the nearest coyote. She grabbed it by the neck and threw it to the ground, where it immediately sprang back up to snap at her leg. Its teeth sank into her paper skin, and she used the animal's momentary confusion to punch it in the muzzle. It released her with a whine and momentarily backed off.

“Take that, you bully!” she taunted it. But before she could celebrate, another coyote hit her from behind, sending her tumbling to the ground.

Spinning on her back, she came face-to-face with the slobbery jaws of the enraged creature. It snapped at her face, again and again, trying to get at her neck. She could barely hold it off.

“I've got it!” Hans cried from behind her ear. Suddenly a loud bang exploded right in the coyote's mouth, sending it flying. Bridget saw stars for a moment.

“You could have warned me you were throwing a firecracker!” she cried.

“Sorry, no time!” Hans replied. “Another one!”

She whirled to see another coyote join the group, trying to bring Tucket down. Grown still larger, to the size of a bear, he swiped angrily at the coyotes nipping at his flanks. Two of the coyotes sported arrows in their sides—courtesty of Soka, Bridget guessed—but they weren't slowing down.

“What is with these things!” she cried in frustration.

“They've been whipped up into a frenzy,” Soka yelled from her spot knee-deep in the river, where she was reloading her bow. She loosed another arrow at a coyote that was leaping at Tucket's head. “We've got to get out of here.”

“I've got boats!” Finn called, paddling down the stream toward them. He was seated in a dugout canoe, pulling another one behind him. “Get in, Soka!”

Soka grabbed the other canoe and pulled herself aboard. Bridget yelled at them.

“We can't leave Tucket!”

“He'll come if you do!” Soka cried back. She sent another arrow flying into an attacking coyote who was just about to hit Bridget from behind.

“Let's go! There are too many to fight,” Hans cried in her ear. Bridget ran forward and scattered the two coyotes hanging from Tucket's flank.

“Tucket, come!” she yelled, and turned to race toward the waiting canoes. Suddenly a coyote sprang out of nowhere to sink its teeth into her neck, pulling her down. She hit the ground, batting at the animal frantically. She could feel something pushing against her neck from the inside; the paper wasn't as thick there, and the coyote's teeth threatened to tear through. So far she'd been able to survive some small punctures in her paper body, but what would happen if she split open? Would her soul escape? Terrified, she thrashed around, but the coyote would not let go. She heard something begin to tear and the pushing inside grew unbearable as her soul strove to break free . . .

Suddenly she heard a thud and the beast shuddered, losing its grip on her throat as it fell to the side. Her hand sprang to her neck. Her fingers ran over the rough paper, checking for rips. She felt some rough grooves where the teeth had dug in, but no holes. She shuddered at her close call; she wasn't as invulnerable as she thought. Sitting up, she looked over at the coyote, which lay dead at her side. Its head had been crushed by a large rock.

“It just fell from the outcropping onto the wolf's head!” Hans breathed from beside her head. “Somebody up there likes you!”

Glancing up, she saw a small cliff looming above the riverbank. Could the rock have just fallen like that, dislodged by Tucket's thrashing? Was she that lucky? She hoped that luck held.

“Bridget, come on!” Soka cried from the canoe. Bridget hopped to her feet, Hans still hanging from her hair. She ran to the water, hitting it with a splash; the stream was surprisingly swift. She pushed forward, struggling to keep her balance on the slippery rocks of the streambed, finally reaching the side of the canoe. Soka held out her hand and pulled her aboard as Finn reached over from his canoe with a steadying hand to keep them from capsizing. Turning back to the shore, Bridget was able to see the full picture. There were at least ten coyotes rushing over the ruins of the Munsee camp at poor Tucket, nipping at every side of the giant dog as they tried to bring him down.

“Tucket, COME!” Bridget screamed, and this time Tucket turned to look at her. Seeing that she was safe, he barreled through the predators, kicking and biting until they fell back. He reached the river and gave a mighty leap through the air right at Finn's canoe.

“NO!” Finn cried, realizing that the giant dog would crush both him and his boat. He threw up his hands. But Tucket was shrinking in midair. He landed, normal size, in the bow of the boat with a yelp. Finn sighed with relief, then grabbed a paddle.

“Let's go!” he yelled back, and began to guide his canoe downstream. Soka grabbed the paddle of their canoe and followed suit, pulling the oar through water on one side and then the other, picking up speed as they left the decimated Munsee camp behind. The coyotes ran alongside the stream, keeping up for a while, but soon the canoes became caught in the pull of the water and they swiftly moved forward down the Loch, leaving their attackers behind. Finally, only the howls of the frustrated beasts remained, until even these, too, faded into the background of the forest.

“Is everyone all right?” Finn called back.

“Sure,” Bridget replied sarcastically. “I mean, I just fought off a bunch of crazy killing machines with my bare hands while you went and got boats! I'm just peachy!”

“Hey, we needed these canoes to escape, Bridget,” Soka reminded her gently. “Be nice.”

“Fine.” Bridget pouted. “Thanks for the awesome boats.”

“You're welcome,” Finn called back, fighting sarcasm with sincerity. “Thanks for fighting off the killing machines with your bare hands.”

“My pleasure,” Bridget muttered, sinking down into the floor of the canoe.

“Well, at least we left a little present behind for whoever is following us,” Soka said. “A whole pack of angry coyotes!” Bridget nodded, gradually calming herself down. They'd escaped, that was all that mattered, she told herself. They were still on the path.

Soka continued paddling, her oar moving from side to side with smooth, practiced motions. No one spoke; the hum of the forest around them begged for their silence. The air was alive with sound—birds chirping, frogs croaking, the buzz of insects along the shore—the music of the woodlands overpowering Bridget's adrenaline and reminding her that they were safe again, at least for the time being.

After a while she propped her chin on the edge of the canoe to watch the trees pass peacefully by. Ahead, she spied Tucket doing the same, and she smiled to see the dog's tongue wagging happily as they glided down the river. He'd earned this moment of rest. Bridget turned her gaze back to the scenery, which took her breath away. Soka had called the Ravine the most beautiful place in the park, and as Bridget stared up at the cliffs on either side, covered in beautiful beds of wildflowers, she could see why. She wondered if the Ravine was this beautiful in mortal Central Park. Probably not. But even if it was just a fraction as breathtaking, it would be the most peaceful spot on Manhattan.