Voracious - Alice Henderson [19]
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.
Madeline’s heart almost stopped.
The thing crept forward slowly and paused after a few feet, sniffing the air again. It lowered its head and scanned the rocks.
Then, just when Madeline expected it to come leaping out to her hiding place, it turned and retreated into the darkness of the trees, moving along the ground like a sinuous black spider.
Madeline exhaled, realizing she’d been holding her breath while she watched the creature. She stared long at the treeline, waiting for the reappearance of the thing. Nothing stirred there.
Madeline waited. And waited.
She thought of Ellie, felt her mind reaching out to her old friend. In the cramped space her fingers closed over the bracelet and its tiny lockbox.
Ellie? she thought. Am I going to live through this?
She tried to breathe in the tight space, her neck cramped as she remained twisted in the crevice. Staring out, she longed to open the little box, to take out its contents. To use her gift for the one thing that brought her peace, feeling closer to her lost friend. The terrible grief over Ellie was so powerful at times her brain staggered over the reality of it, denying it. Now the memory of running for her life all those years ago surged back, her mouth dry and her blood thrumming in her ears. The Sickle Moon Killer. His face of fear and rage, the sound of his pounding steps on the forest floor—
Ellie, she thought, if you can hear me … She craned her neck farther to see more of the clearing. But she didn’t finish the thought. She couldn’t ask for protection.