Peter & Max - Bill Willingham [43]
They held hands while they crossed, to help each other keep balance, but they didn’t let go on the other side, when their footing was secure again. Hand in hand they started up the other hill forming the gully. It was a large slope and very steep. It took them a long time to climb it, but it became easier once the rocks gave way to trees again and they could rest with their backs against the tree trunks, which kept them from falling back down into the gully. After resting for a few minutes they’d set out again up the embankment.
By the time they reached the top, they were back in the dense wood once more, under a canopy that deepened the shadows and blocked every patch of sky overhead.
That’s when they heard the monster.
First there was a simple coughing sound, which is what great beasts sometimes make when they stalk through the night. But neither Peter nor Bo had ever encountered a great beast before, so at first they simply thought the noise odd. They grew more nervous as the coughs came initially from one direction and then from another, as if something was circling them — something very big.
Peter stopped Bo in a spot about equally distant from four big tree trunks. It wasn’t quite a clearing, but there was scant undergrowth in the place. From here at least they could choose to run in any direction. Peter could feel Bo’s hand trembling in his. With his other hand he slowly reached around behind his back and untied the laces that kept the flute case’s flap closed. Once the flap was freed, gravity took over and Peter felt Frost slide softly out of its case, quiet as a whisper, and into his hand.
Now there was a deep grunting, growling sound from only a few feet in front of them. They could make out nothing in the darkness.
“Bo?” Peter said.
“Yes?”
“When I start to play, you run. Don’t go before that, or the thing might get you. But once I begin, run as fast as you can.” He released her hand.
“But I can’t leave you here.”
“Yes you can. You have to. I need to stay here to keep the beast away from you, and you need to run and get help. Find your father or mine and bring them back here. I’m counting on you to run fast and find them and save me.” Peter was lying. He knew that she couldn’t possibly find anyone out there in the dark and then lead them back here in time to save him. But he needed to make sure she’d run as far and as fast as she could to get away, and this seemed the best way to convince her to do it. He’d hold the beast as long as he could, but he didn’t know how long that might be, so he wanted her as far away from him as she could manage.
“That’s a grand idea, little girl,” a voice said from out of the concealing blackness. “Run fast and lead me a merry chase. You’ll have as much head start as it takes me to gobble down your friend. Give me enough good sport and, even though I can’t promise to spare you, I’ll at least make sure you don’t suffer overmuch.” The creature’s voice was deep and growling, like huge stones scraping against each other. With the muffled squishing of dead leaves underfoot, it approached closer, on heavy paws. It stepped between two trees and Peter could see just enough to make out the great black shadow of a giant wolf. This close its breath sounded like a blacksmith’s bellows.
Even though he was no longer in contact with her, Peter could feel Bo beside him, shaking like a leaf — or like a scared deer who, cornered and exhausted, surrenders to the idea that its only remaining purpose is to be food for another. Peter was shaking, too, so much so that he wondered if he could successfully play a note.
“We don’t mean you any harm,” Peter said.
“Gracious of you,” the giant wolf said. “But I can’t say the same. I absolutely