Marysvale (18 page)

She sat there for a moment and then
asked, as if she didn’t care, “Not that I’m agreeing to
anything…but what would the deal be?”

I smiled. “We’ll get an apple from
Sarah. You throw it any way you want, except straight down. If I
hit it with the crossbow, you let me escort you and Hannah back to
Marysvale.”

“
I don’t need your
protection,” she said haughtily.

I replied sincerely, “No, I suppose you
don’t. Even so, that’s the deal.”

She pondered that and asked, “What do I
get if you miss?”

“
What do you
want?”

“
I don’t know. You don’t
have anything I want…except…”

She glanced at Smoke.

“
No,” I said
flatly.

“
So either way you’re out
nothing. If you miss, you have to do nothing. If you hit it, then
you get your way—or rather, I suspect, Sarah’s way, since she’s
making you accompany us, isn’t she?”

“
Well, I wouldn’t say a four
or five-day round trip, through a forest known to inhabit
man-killing monsters, is nothing,” I replied.

“
But, you don’t deny
it.”

I didn’t.

“
That’s what I thought.” She
paused. “I don’t know. You obviously think you can hit it, or you
wouldn’t have bet.”

She looked at the crossbow.

“
That has two
shots?”

I nodded.

“
Then here is what I’ll
agree to: you have to hit it twice in the same throw.”

I started to protest, but she cut me
off. “It’s this or nothing; but I’ll be fair. I’ll throw it as high
and far as I can to give you a clean shot—no tricks. But if you
miss, then I want your word that you won’t follow me tomorrow, no
matter what Sarah says.”

“
In that case, I get two
chances.”

“
You can have three,” she
said smugly. “Because there is no way you can hit the same apple
twice in the same throw.”

“
Then we’re
agreed?”

She quietly went into the
house.

I glanced back at the monsters. They
were gone.
Good,
I thought.
If they really do study
their prey, then I don’t want them to see what I’m about to do…or
at least hope to do.

Jane returned with not only three
apples, but with an excited Hannah and a disapproving
Sarah.

“
Oh, this is so exciting,”
said Hannah. “I hope you win. I think it would be fun to have you
along.”

“
I hope you win, too,” added
Sarah coolly.

I picked up the crossbow and stepped
down off the porch. Jane followed, carrying the three apples. She
stepped a few paces to my side, but as she passed, she brushed her
body against mine and whispered in a seductive voice, “Good luck,
John. You’re going to need it.”

“
Did you see that?”
exclaimed Hannah perturbed. “Did you see what she did? She’s trying
to distract him! That’s not fair!”

I turned, winked at Hannah, and said,
“Don’t worry. It won’t work.”

She giggled.

Jane put two of the apples down on the
ground, and kept one in her hand.

“
When you’re ready,” she
said.

I brought the crossbow up and prepared
for her toss.

“
Go.”

She heaved back and threw the apple in
a high arch. I steadied my breath, aimed, and as soon as the small
red projectile was safely away, I let the first arrow fly. With
little more than the click of the trigger and twang from the
string, it shot out like a streak of lightning. It whirred through
the air toward the fleeing target and sliced off a corner. Jane
gasped, just as the second arrow tore straight through the rest of
the apple, shredding it to pieces.

Hannah clapped and cheered wildly,
while jumping up and down. Sarah looked relieved, and Jane was
speechless.

As the remaining bits of apple rained
down, I walked by the still disbelieving Jane and whispered in her
ear, “I should have bet more.”

“
You knew you could do it in
one try, didn’t you?” she accused, while following me to help
retrieve the arrows.

“
Of course. But I had to
make it look like there was some doubt as to whether I could hit it
or not; otherwise you wouldn’t have agreed.”

She smiled insincerely. “I was going to
let you come anyway. Sarah would have insisted, regardless of our
wager; and Hannah would have harassed me endlessly if we left you
behind.”

“
That’s good, because I
would have come anyway.”

“
And break your
word?”

“
No. But I never promised
that I wouldn’t accompany Hannah. You would have had to join us if
you wanted to ride on horses—or have a very long walk
alone.”

“
You wouldn’t
have!”

I didn’t answer and she shot me a mean
look; but for the first time, her eyes were playful and betrayed
the scowl on her face.

After quickly recovering the arrows, we
walked back toward the cabin together. I found it difficult to keep
my eyes off her. The wind gently blew her long hair, trailing it
out behind and away from her smooth neck. Suddenly, she turned and
caught me stealing a look. Unexpectedly, she flashed a gorgeous, if
not a slightly embarrassed, smile, and then quickly looked away.
And just like that, Sarah’s prediction came true—I was glad to be
accompanying Jane back to Marysvale.

The memory of Jane sitting next to me
on the swing, her sweet smell, and beautiful smile made falling
asleep difficult. But what made it even more elusive was the
disturbing sight of the two Brean. One watching us would have been
bad enough, but two gave me the impression they were collaborating.
Not that I knew for sure, but it didn’t bode well and nothing good
could come of it. When sleep finally did come, it was restless. I
awoke frequently and found it a most difficult task finding a
comfortable position. The room grew noticeably colder. Finally,
abandoning all hope of sleep, I lay there and watched little puffs
of vapor shoot out of my mouth with each breath.

The night was silent; not a sound could
be heard. I felt uneasy and couldn’t quite figure out why. Nothing
seemed that different, just like any other night; but I had a
feeling I was being watched. I glanced at the doorway expecting to
see Sarah, or perhaps Jane, but it was empty. I doubted one of them
watching me sleep would cause such a nervous feeling anyway. In
anticipation, I got up, sat on the edge of the bed, and looked
toward the stairs for a moment. Nothing appeared. I wondered if I
was just upset from lack of sleep, and debated if lying back down
would do any good.
Probably not, but sitting by the warm
fireplace might
. I started for the stairs and stopped.
Something told me to get the rifle that had taken up residence near
the bed.
Downstairs is full of weapons,
I argued with
myself.
Why would I need this one?
I again turned to
leave, and once more the feeling returned.
Stupid. I’m just
being paranoid.
I renewed my efforts for the door. Again, the
impression to grab the rifle stopped me in my tracks.
Fine,
I told myself.
Have it your way, you
chicken.
I turned to retrieve the weapon and leapt back with
shock and horror.

There was no light coming through the
window—no moonlight, no stars, trees, nothing. In their place,
filling the entire frame, sat the hideous face of a massive Brean.
Cold, red eyes studied me. It was huge, larger than any of the
others I had seen. A long, ugly scar ran down the forehead and
through its nose and cheek. It made no movement, except for its
breath, which fogged the glass momentarily with each
exhale.

Our eyes locked and it glared at me in
hatred. Its lip turned up in a silent snarl. There was something
different about this one, something about its presence. Its eyes
were keener, sharper, more full of substance; and they were red,
when the others had been black. Fearful, but momentarily intrigued,
I tried to read its soul. I expected the dark vortex of nothing.
What I found was something entirely different, and it left me
aghast. This Brean had a soul. It wasn’t like that of an animal; it
was more human, with thoughts and intelligence. It was also dark
and full of evil. I got the impression that it was curious about
me. His eyes probed mine—as if searching for recognition. I pushed
deeper, trying to harvest some thoughts; but the moment I did, it
burst into a terrible rage and let out a horrifying roar that
covered the window in spittle and rattled its frame.

The intensity of its anger paralyzed me
with fear and broke my mental link. A huge, hairy fist smashed
through the window, sending shards of glass everywhere. With its
incredible strength, it tore away large chunks of wood, increasing
the hole where the glass had been, at an alarming rate.

The dog finally started to
bark.

In an instant, my paralysis wore off
and my mind screamed,
Move!

I lunged for the rifle, snapped it up,
turned, and fired. The deafening explosion and concussion from the
weapon, in such a confined space, caused my ears to ring. Acrid
smoke from the burned powder filled the room.

I cut through the lingering cloud with
my special vision. The monster was gone. It must have seen me grab
for the rifle and had dropped to the ground, because it was now
streaking across the open fields.

I cursed and ran for the stairs. Jane
and Sarah were halfway up, both wearing panicked looks. I shoved
past them and leapt over Hannah, who was as the bottom of the
stairs. Landing on my feet, I grabbed another rifle, sprung to the
door, and flung it open. As I ran out, I wondered if this was a
trap.

Fortunately, nothing happened. I forced
my extended sight open again and saw the huge shape moving
amazingly fast. It was almost to the edge of the woods. I raised
Sarah’s long black rifle, aimed, and squeezed the trigger. The
weapon erupted in another ear-splitting boom, which rocked me back,
and broke my concentration; the vision closed. By the time I got it
open again, the Brean was gone. I strained, trying to find it, but
it was out of range. I tried to summon the power that flowed from
me when I was angry, but it was useless. Frustrated and exhausted,
I let the vision close.

Slowly, I turned and faced the three
terrified women.

Jane, with wide eyes, asked, “What
happened?”

“
We need to leave quickly,”
I replied somberly.

“
What? At this hour? But
why?” asked Hannah.

I looked at Sarah; she was
pale.

“
Something’s changed. We’re
not safe here anymore.”

I couldn’t explain how I knew—I didn’t
really know myself. Perhaps it came from the brief glimpse into the
monster’s soul. Regardless, we were in immediate danger, I was sure
of it.

Jane and Hannah looked at Sarah,
waiting for some sort of denial. She simply said, “Girls, you
better get ready.”

They didn’t move.

“
I want to know what’s going
on,” demanded Jane.

“
So do I,” added
Hannah.

“
Please, girls,” pleaded
Sarah softly. “I wish we had more time for explanations, but time
is the one thing we don’t have. Now let’s go and change. We’ll talk
while we ready the horses.”

Reluctantly, and with anxious looks,
they did as they were told; and so did I.

It only took me a moment to throw my
clothes on and return, as it did with the girls. Sarah gave them
some instructions as to what food to pack. It was too much for four
riders and three horses to handle, and I told her so.

She simply replied, “I’ll take care of
that.”

With the girls busy collecting food and
supplies, Sarah walked me to the barn. I noticed for the first time
that fog had rolled in during the night. The moon illuminated the
eerie mist and bathed the barn in a ghostly dim glow, making it
look like a leviathan rising out of the depths of a deep, dark
lake. I shivered, partially at the thought of what else may be out
there, and because my body was already preparing for the onslaught
of cold.

“
What happened upstairs?”
she asked.

I told her, except for the part about
digging through its soul. When she was opening the barn door, I
added, as an afterthought, the detail about the monster having a
scar.

She stopped. Her face drained of color
and her hands trembled slightly.

“
What is it?” I asked
concerned.

She answered quietly, “That was the
beast that beat me and dragged me back here.”

Her little revelation left me
speechless, and I didn’t know what to say.

“
It doesn’t matter now,” she
continued.

“
I think it
does.”

She ignored me, walked over to a horse,
and worked on saddling it.

Deciding I wouldn’t get an answer, I
left the topic alone. I readied Smoke, who was eager for another
adventure into the dark night. Finishing first, I went to work on
the third horse, but Sarah stopped me. “He doesn’t need a saddle,
he can carry the food.”