Voracious - Alice Henderson [64]
“What was it?”
“Something big. Huge. Way taller than my dad. And covered with hair. He spun around just as it vanished, and then took off down the trail toward me. He asked me if I’d seen anything. I nodded.”
“But what was it?” Madeline asked again.
“I don’t know. Bigfoot, maybe? A homeless guy with a lot of hair? I only saw it that one time, and we’d hiked that trail a bunch of times before and since. So all I’m saying is that there’s some weird stuff out there. And I don’t doubt that you saw something up on the mountain.”
And down here, she thought grimly. “Thanks. That makes me feel a little better.” But then she thought of Mike, the murdered ranger, and how Steve had no idea that his friend was dead, and how the thing had imitated him, even down to his voice. She shivered, feeling cold even in the fleece.
They traveled on in silence, and after twenty miles they saw the sign for the trailhead on the left. Steve slowed and pulled into the parking area. There, like her own version of the Holy Grail, sat her beloved 1980 VW Rabbit, its red paint gleaming in the headlights, the white and gold racing stripe glowing reflectively.
“Yay!” she said aloud, not able to help herself. “Um, that’s my car there, the Rabbit.”
It was the only car parked at the trailhead, as if she was the only person to attempt the hike that day, the only one unfortunate enough to get caught in the flash flood.
Before he’d even fully stopped the car, Madeline opened the door, ready to jump out. Then she turned and hugged him. He looked startled, then returned the hug. “Thank you,” she told him. “Thank you so much.”
“No problem. And now I’ll be able to see my sister, too.”
She climbed out of the car, and he added, “I’ll just wait here till you get the car started.”
“Thanks.” She closed the door and walked over to her car, resisting the urge to throw her arms around it, too. Instead, she said, “Hello, Rabbit!” Lying down on her stomach, she felt around under the car for the magnetic key holder. Her fingers closed around it almost immediately, and she tugged it off. Inside, safe and sound, rested her spare key. Unlocking the door, she swung it open, then sank down into the familiar black bucket seat, breathing in the comfortable smell of her faithful car.
And realized she hadn’t checked the backseat first. Spinning around in her seat, she looked back there. Nothing. Then she got out, walked to the back and peered in through the hatchback window. Nothing. Sighing with relief, she climbed back in the driver’s seat and started up the Rabbit. It roared to life.
She closed the door, locked it, and waved to Steve. He waved back, watched her for a moment, and then pulled his Jeep out, swinging onto the road and driving away.
Madeline leaned back momentarily. She longed to return to her normal life, to the life that made sense. Days ago she’d wanted nothing more than to escape Mothershead. Now she just wanted to escape back into its familiarity, put all of this into perspective. She reached under the passenger seat and pulled out her wallet, grateful she’d stashed it there. Strapping on her seat belt, she thought of Noah, asleep back in the cabin. She hoped he would catch up to the creature soon and end his long, miserable quest. Maybe then he could have a chance at a normal life, get back the future that had been taken from him that night in Vienna.
She backed up and pulled out of the small lot onto the main road toward home. The moon rose behind her, the road glowing when she looked back. She wondered about Noah, and if she was doing the right thing. The sky darkened as a cloud passed over the moon, and Madeline’s lights were the only ones on the road. Dark shadows of pines rose on both sides of her, with the looming black mountains beyond. She felt different, like she never had before: sad and full of a strange kind of regret. But she couldn’t go back. What