Voracious (6 page)

“I think you’d better change into your hiking boots,” he said.

“But they’re wet and—”

“All the same,” he insisted, never taking his eyes off the jumble of logs. “I think you’d better put them on. I think we need to leave.”

She studied his face, bewildered. He was alert, nervous.

She looked around. Her boots lay on the other side of the chair. Beyond lay the alpine meadow, the wildflowers now lost in the darkness. “We can’t hike down now in the dark.”

“We’ll have to. There!” he said, so suddenly that Madeline started, causing her heart to pound.

And she saw it.

The dark, hunkering shape crept through there again, darting in and out of the logs, furtive and quick, weaving closer and closer to them. She could see now it didn’t have wet fur at all, but oily black skin which glistened in the brightening moonlight. The animal was lithe and muscled, moving efficiently, though she still couldn’t see enough of it to tell what it was.

“Quick,” Noah urged her, placing an insistent hand on her shoulder.

Madeline shucked off the sandals and pulled on her wet boots, knowing they’d soak through the dry socks in a matter of seconds. Quickly she tightened the laces.

With her boots on, she turned her eyes back to the logs. The creature had stopped, and Madeline felt eyes burning into her. And then she watched as it put a paw on one of the logs. It was dark against the white of the wood, distinct in the gleaming moonlight.

And Madeline saw immediately that it wasn’t a paw at all, but a hand. A hand as black as charcoal, with impossibly hooked claws that bit into the wood.

“He’s got the advantage,” Noah said grimly.

“He?”
Madeline asked with bewilderment.
“He?”

Noah didn’t seem to hear her. “I can’t fight him like this. I can’t endanger you. If I could find someplace for you to hide …”

“Fight him—What’s going on? What is that thing?”

He turned to her then, his eyes full of fear. “I’ll explain on the way down the mountain. But right now, we’ve got to get you somewhere safe. C’mon!” He stood up and gestured for her to follow. “There’s an abandoned skiers’ hut just over that rise.” He pointed to a cluster of trees on a hill. “It’s not the greatest, but we’d be more protected than we are now. Okay?”

Madeline nodded, feeling bewildered.

Moving to his pack quickly, he threw everything inside haphazardly and zipped it up, leaving the tent standing some distance away. He grabbed the chair with one hand as he slung the pack over his shoulder. “Let’s go,” he said, and she caught a glimpse of his eyes in the moonlight, haunted and terrified.

THEY
ran down the mountain in near dark, trying to leave the animal behind. Exhaustion seized Madeline, and she knew she couldn’t run for very long. Her wet boots felt as heavy as small European countries.

She followed Noah closely, the pack slapping violently against his back as he struggled to strap it down. For a moment she didn’t think she could keep up, felt her breath failing her, lungs laboring too fiercely as they tore across the lily-strewn meadow. Behind her the furtive rustle of grass told of the thing’s presence close behind.

Then, much to her relief, the old, falling-down ski hut came into view, nestled amid some trees. As they drew closer, Madeline could see that most of the windows were broken, and that one side of the roof had fallen to ruin. The door hung on one rusted hinge. As soon as they reached it, Noah shoved the door open and nodded for her to go inside. She slipped by him, her eyes adjusting to the thicker darkness inside. It was cold and dank, a chill that felt decades old. Instantly a musty smell greeted her, and she wrinkled her nose, holding back a sneeze.

Noah followed her in and, pushing harshly on the handle, convinced the groaning, rusted door to close. Madeline tried to make things out in the gloom. The windows were broken but too small for the creature to fit through. Obviously the place had been built to last under the pressure of many feet of snow, but now it was in ruin, and she wondered how strong and determined the animal was. Madeline thought with those claws it could tear right through the rotten part of the roof.

Beneath her feet lay a soft bed of wet, windblown pine needles and dirt. The chill sank into her bones, and she began to shiver, trying to keep her teeth from chattering.

Noah walked to her and tried to warm her by rubbing her arms. After a moment of looking at her gravely, he said, “I’m going to lead him away from you. You’re in no condition for a long jog down the mountain. I’ll be back.” Quickly, he shrugged off his pack and put it at her feet. “It’s only a matter of time before he finds us in here. Maybe I can make him think we went a different direction.”

Before she could think of what to say, he wrenched open the rickety door, disappeared through it, and closed it after him.

And then Madeline was alone, standing in the center of the cold building, the wind whistling through the shattered windows. She was freezing. For a long moment she stood stiffly, listening until her head ached with tension, too afraid to move, wondering when Noah would be back, and if he was okay.

An image of the clawed hand on the log flashed in her mind, and Madeline moved toward one wall of the old hut so that her back wasn’t exposed. She longed to move around, to get her blood flowing, but she couldn’t risk the noise. She stuck her tongue between her chattering teeth to muffle the sound.

She waited silently, hugging herself.

And then she heard tree branches cracking outside. From where she was standing, she couldn’t see what might be out there and was afraid to look out anyway. She waited a moment longer.

The rustling drew closer. If it was Noah, he would probably say something to let her know it was him. Now the branches moved just outside the nearest window. Madeline braced herself to fight.

The door moved in the frame, and Noah appeared, replacing the door behind himself. It groaned on its single hinge. Instantly he saw her fighting posture and held his hands up to show her he meant no harm. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” Then he came toward her. “He’s following us, all right. But I think I managed to lead him away. He won’t stay confused for long, though. We should move now. My fleece looks good on you. Warm?”

He said the last bit in the same urgent tone of voice, and it took her a second to register the question.

“Yes, thanks,” she lied, eager to be on the move. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m not sure. Going to think of something now.”

The chill sank into Madeline’s brain. She couldn’t think of anything, her mind muddled.
Hypothermia.

“You’ve get to get down the mountain. There’s a backcountry ranger station not far from here.” Picking the pack up from the ground he said, “Turn around.” She did so. “Just about everything you’ll need is in this pack … food, water … the map.” He slid it on her shoulders and turned her back around.

“But—”

“Don’t argue with me.” Working quickly, he buckled the straps at her hips and chest. “You’ve got to move fast. Don’t stop, no matter what you hear. Just keep moving. Agreed?”

Madeline didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even have time to think or begin to sort out what was happening.

“Agreed?” he repeated urgently.

Finally, Madeline nodded.

“Good. I’m going out there again. As soon as I’m out of sight, I want you to run as fast as you can. The trail is not far from here. Angle northwest. We’re only about a hundred yards—”

The sudden cacophony of splintering wood cut him off. In an instant the door splintered to nothing, and a dark figure filled the frame, a flash of teeth in utter blackness.

Noah turned and lunged toward the door, impacting violently with the creature, sending them both tumbling out into the forest.

“Run!” he screamed. “Run now!”

For a second Madeline couldn’t move, couldn’t bring herself to rush toward them. A gleeful howl pierced through her shock, and she came to life, rushing toward the door and out into the woods. The two struggling figures tangled several yards away, and after glancing at the moon’s position, she dashed toward the northwest.

Behind her she heard Noah scream, long agonized shrieks, and then he was silent. Panic and terror filled her as she ran, darting into the shadows of trees, praying the thing wasn’t loping after her in the dark.

Forty-five minutes later, having located the trail, she made her way through the forest. So far she’d heard no sounds behind her. The chill that had settled in earlier had fled with her panicked run. Though her hair was still damp, the fleece jacket and polypropylene shirt had trapped in the heat. Sweat trickled down her back.

The ground leveled out, sloping only slightly downward.

During the day, she would have passed someone on the trail and asked for help. At this hour, though, backcountry packers would be nestled warmly in their tents. She envied them and pushed on.

Without a flashlight, she continually tripped on large tree roots and rocks in the path, feeling grateful for having her boots instead of the sandals.

The ranger at the backcountry station could help her. In the summer, backcountry rangers usually patrolled the trails and manned the few stations scattered about in the wilderness. Hikers were required to sign up for passes before camping in the backcountry.

She’d signed up for a pass herself, though at a ranger station on the other side of the mountain. She’d written down four days from now as her expected return date. They wouldn’t be looking for her for quite a while yet. Madeline pictured dogs and helicopters sweeping the other side of the mountain, friendly light and sound breaking through the impenetrable darkness.

She let herself pretend that a search party really was looking for her, and the thought cheered her a little.

A sudden scuffling made her go still, as if a fatal crack had split open beneath her skating feet on a desolate, frozen pond. Barely daring to pant in the darkness, she listened, straining her ears.

She could hear something breathing to her left, just off the path. Her hair stood up. Quickly she moved to the cover of a nearby pine. Peering intently, she tried to make out shapes in the moonlight.

A dark, sinewy shape slunk from one tree to the next. Madeline wished it were a bear but knew it wasn’t. It moved upright, and though bears could walk on their hind legs, the movement was always cumbersome and lumbering. This creature was agile and quick as it moved, slipping from shadow to shadow. It was almost a shadow itself, with no features, just smooth, inky blackness.

As it moved onto the trail, Madeline caught sight of its face and bit back a scream.

The thing had turned to face the moon, and she saw its eyes: two huge, luminous red discs in an inky face, reflecting back the moonlight, flashing eerily. The mouth parted to reveal a row of hideous, sharp teeth, then turned up in an eager smile as the thing scanned the darkness.

It was hunting her, and it loved it.

QUICKLY
Madeline left the trail, making her way through the underbrush and pines. Several times she glanced back toward the creature, hoping Noah was near it. But she didn’t see anyone. Had it
killed
him?

Panic crept into her belly. She struggled to keep it in check, her head whipping from side to side, trying to find a hiding place. For a moment she couldn’t catch her breath, felt her lungs constricting in terror.

To her left, a little bit ahead, Madeline saw a small clearing in the center of which stood three huge boulders very close together. Maybe she could hide behind one of those, wait till the thing had passed.

Briefly she wondered if she could outrun it, then quickly brushed away the image of it gaining on her in the darkness: she, slowed down by her wet boots and pack: the thing, preternaturally quick and relentless, tearing into her back and neck, opening ragged wounds—

Madeline steadied her mind. Glancing behind now, she couldn’t see the creature, though she dared not look for very long. Wincing as she stepped on three splintering sticks in a row, Madeline pushed for the clearing.

When she got to the edge, she slowed, not wanting to dive out into the open, to be in plain sight in the brilliant moonlight.

But the rocks looked like the best hiding place.

She burst through the trees and into the clearing. Where two of the rocks met was a crevice just wide enough for her to hide in, and the shadows there would completely cover her.

Quickly she ran to where the two rocks met and threw the pack in first. She sat down, stuck her legs through the opening, and then pushed herself farther and farther in with her arms. Soon the rock’s shadow overtook her, and with one more push she was deep inside the crevice, pulling cobwebs off her face.

There was little room to move around. She lay down, glancing furtively out of the opening, desperately hoping the thing hadn’t seen her crawl in. She could see the silvery blue trees of the forest glowing in the moonlight and suddenly wondered if she should have gone in headfirst, so she could kick the thing if it found her in there. But glancing at the inky blackness at her feet, she realized having her head trapped at that end with limited ability to look out would have been too terrifying.

She waited beneath the rock, not taking her eyes from the treeline, and wondered how smart the thing was.

And then she saw it.

The creature emerged from the treeline into the clearing, long, black, lithe body moving furtively, nose turned to the wind, sniffing eagerly. She looked for any hint of features besides the eyes and mouth—hair, wrinkles—but saw none. Its shape was humanoid yet streamlined, a three-dimensional shadow come to life. Its claws met its fingers seamlessly, one flowing into the other. It had no ears.

As it sniffed, she felt a tiny surge of relief and hope when a breeze greeted her face. The wind was blowing toward her, making it difficult for the creature to catch a scent of her.

Dropping low to the ground, it crept about, just as comfortable on all fours. Smelling the rocks and moss, the flowers and grasses, it snapped its head up and stared directly to where she lay in the shadows, its huge, luminous eyes reflective in the moonlight.