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.
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. Not after what had happened. All she could do was stay awake and hope it didn’t find her like the Sickle Moon Killer had.
She lay and watched the trees for so long she lost track of time. The crevice was dark and reassuring, her own safe little cavern, and after an hour of tense watching, she began to relax and rest a little. The dry fleece and polypropylene undershirt felt warm and soft.
Madeline awoke with a start when an owl called out.
A predawn glow filled the crevice, and she realized with amazement that she’d actually fallen asleep. Light spilled into her world. Dawn had never looked so good to her before. She felt overjoyed and relieved that it had finally come.
It was day, and she could find someone to help her.
Carefully she crept out of the crevice, scanning the clearing and trees for any sign of the creature or Noah. She studied the trees. She felt alone, not like she was being watched…
Being watched.
Yesterday, on the mountain, just before the water hit, she’d had the feeling of being watched…
Could it have been the creature, even then, readying to attack her?
Madeline shuddered and pushed off the image. Since acquiring her ability, she’d dealt with the unknown, lived with a talent no one else possessed in her small town. But this was something new. In the back of her mind, she’d always known that her psychic ability could be just another part of the brain that most did not use. But the creature-she thought of its round disk eyes, the mouth full of teeth, the shadowlike skin-was beyond even her expanded scope of what the mundane world held within its ordinary grasp. From here out was unexplored territory. She’d hoped to come to the backcountry to clear her mind, decide how to fit her unusual gift into the usual world. But instead, the world itself had grown unusual, deeper, revealing more of its supernatural secrets. It was far stranger, far more frightening and inexplicable than she’d thought.
She brought a hand to her bandage, not letting the feelings overwhelm her. She had to concentrate on the present, find out exactly where she was and how far it was to the ranger station.
Quickly she unzipped the pack and looked inside. The map lay right on top, and she pulled it out
Noah drinking a morning cup of coffee.
Later, afraid, the thing close behind.
Madeline forced the images away and studied the map. After guessing how long she’d walked the night before, and what kind of time she’d made in the darkness, she figured it was another hour to the ranger station.
Not bad at all.
Stuffing the map back into the pack, she noticed the water bottle. Taking several long pulls on it, she gazed up at the deep blue morning sky, golden clouds set afire in the east. Her head throbbed as she tilted it up, the bandaged gash on her head feeling twice its actual size. She replaced the bottle and stood up. Hoisting the pack onto her back, she buckled it as she began to walk, all the while watching the trees and rocks for any sign of movement. Soon she was back on the trail, rushing toward the backcountry station.
Gratefully Madeline stepped onto the wooden porch of the backcountry ranger station and opened the door. A young ranger sitting behind a beat-up counter looked up as she entered. He was in his early twenties, with straight, dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. She approached the desk, which stood on one side of a small room with a couple of shelves holding books and maps. The ranger stared at her.
“What can I help you with?” he asked. He put down the paper he had been reading. His features were angular and his skin dark, his coloration reminding her of a Romanian friend she’d had in high school. His name tag read Michael Zuwalski.
“Something…” She reached the desk, trailed off, trying to catch her breath.
“Yes?” He arched one eyebrow expectantly.
“Something attacked me and my friend in the backcountry.”
“A grizzly?” The ranger grew alarmed.
“No, nothing like that,” she said quickly, then paused. “Look,” she went on firmly, “I don’t know what it was.”
“It was probably a grizzly. Sometimes people have a hard time identifying wildlife-”
She cut him off. “This was not wildlife. This was a… thing. It specifically, methodically, went after me and this other guy.”
“Who?”
“Noah someone. I don’t know his last name. He went after the thing to lead it away.”
“You were in the backcountry with someone whose last name you don’t even know?”
“No,” she shook her head. “I don’t know him, he just pulled me out of the river and then the creature showed up and-”
“Wait… slow down.”
“Well, I’d never seen an animal like it before, but it was really smart. It was hunting us. Noah seemed to know what it was,” she went on, hoping the story would sound better if she filled it out more. “He went after it. And now I want to send a rescue for him.”
The ranger was just silent. He stared at the bandage on her head. “Nasty blow there.”
She touched it gingerly and then waved her hand, dismissing it. “It’ll heal. But Noah’s in real danger.”
The ranger remained silent.
“Well? Aren’t you going to do anything?” she demanded. “Radio somebody?”
“Are you saying you were caught in the flash flood?”
She nodded.
“Well, look, that thing was bad. It’s amazing you even got out. Just about every available person we’ve got is helping people who were caught in it.”
“Well, ‘just about every person’ must mean you have someone who can help.”
“Only for genuine emergencies.”
“This is an emergency!” she practically yelled.
The ranger crossed his arms. “Did you see the creature after you bumped your head?”
Madeline became flustered. “Well, yes, but I don’t see…” And then she did. She saw perfectly. He thought she imagined the whole thing.
Exasperated, she said, “It all really happened!” Looking down at herself in Noah’s clothes suddenly reaffirmed that.
“Look at these clothes. They’re huge on me!”
“So?”
“They’re Noah’s. He gave them to me before the thing attacked.”
“I see,” he responded.
But she could tell that he didn’t see.
“This guy Noah…” the ranger went on, then he trailed off. “Listen,” he said finally. “There are a lot of guys out there who’ll take advantage of you. Tell you a scary story to make you vulnerable.”
“It wasn’t like that!” she yelled. “He didn’t make this up, I saw it!”
“Are you sure?” he said, gesturing at her head and leaning over the counter with a condescending look. “That is quite a nasty blow.”
Madeline grew more and more frustrated. Forced herself to take a deep breath. Normally, rangers were so helpful, but this guy was pure aggravation. “Look. Regardless of whether or not you believe I was attacked by some thing, there is a guy named Noah out there, and he’s in danger.” She paused, her eyes falling to the registration book on the desk. “Please,” she asked, trying to hold back the anger she felt at that moment. “Could you just look in the book and at least see when Noah’s supposed to get back? Maybe he’s already overdue.”
The ranger remained still for a few moments, then shrugged. “If it’ll make you feel better,” he said.
“It will.”
“Okay.” He slid the book over toward himself. Scanned the first page of people who’d signed up for backcountry passes. Flipped backward. Scanned that page. Then the one before, and the one before, and the one before that. Then he went back over them again, and flipped even farther back. “I’m at three weeks ago now. No one named Noah has taken out a pass.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You’re sure?”
“No one. I can read, you know.”
She ignored the rude comment. “Could he have gone without one?”
“Well, that’s always possible. It’s illegal, you know, but there’s not someone standing guard at the trailhead or anything, if that’s what you mean.”
“I know,” she said, sighing. “Then I guess he didn’t get one.”
“Or he lied about his name.” He eyed her intently. “He might have lied to you, you know.”
She couldn’t believe this guy. “What kind of ranger are you, anyway? Don’t you even care?”
“Of course I care!” he responded, his tone softening. “I care that you might have gotten mixed up with the wrong sort of company.” He gestured at the book. “There’s no Noah in here, so I can only assume he lied about his name to one of us or just didn’t get the pass at all. Either way, it’s pretty shady.”
Madeline fell silent. Was this guy right? Had Noah deceived her? Certainly not about the creature-that had been real enough. But had he really given her a false name? Why would he do that?
Their meeting had been so brief it was hard to be certain. But she did believe that Noah had tried to protect her.
No, she thought. Why would he lie? It didn’t make sense.
“Look. I don’t know what to tell you. I think this guy wasn’t on the up-and-up,” the ranger went on.
A sudden thump resounded from down a corridor that lay beyond the small bookshelves. They both turned in that direction but saw nothing unusual. Another thump followed shortly afterward. It was dull and heavy, echoing down the corridor. Madeline started violently. She didn’t see anything there.
“Huh,” said the ranger, wrinkling his brow. “That doesn’t sound good. I better go check it out. Sounds like the generator is acting up again.”
Hurriedly he moved around the end of the counter and filed past her, heading in the direction of the noise. Madeline waited for a few moments, then looked down at the backcountry reservation book. Maybe the ranger had overlooked Noah’s name.
Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the ranger halfway down the corridor, still headed away from her. Quickly she spun the book around to face her.
The instant she touched it, she saw blood.
Instinctively she pulled her hand away. She had seen nothing else specific. Just a pool of blood on a brown cement floor. Forcing herself to touch the book again, Madeline flipped back and forth until she found the reservations that had been made for the past few days.
And almost immediately she saw Noah’s name. It was even at the top of the page. Noah Lanchester.
Madeline furrowed her brow. She didn’t see how the ranger could have missed it. It had immediately caught her attention. She looked back down the hallway. He wasn’t in sight. Returning her attention to the book, she saw that Noah had taken a three-day backcountry pass and was due back tomorrow. She looked at the initials of the ranger who had checked Noah in. MZ. As in Michael Zuwalski, the same initials of the ranger she had just been talking to. Wouldn’t he remember someone he had checked in just the day before? She scanned over the names and dates before and after Noah. Only one other party had gone out besides him that day, a couple who were only going to be gone overnight. Surely the ranger would have remembered him then. And she doubted there was more than one ranger at the station with the initials MZ.
Shuffling in the corridor alerted her to the ranger’s return. She rotated the book back around and stood there, trying to look innocent. He emerged from the corridor and walked back behind the counter.
“It was the generator, all right. That thing’s always acting up.” He gave her a smile, but she couldn’t bring herself to smile back. Was he intentionally lying, or was it an honest mistake? She didn’t see how he could forget so quickly. And what about the image of blood? It was so vague. The ranger could have just cut himself slicing bread for all she knew. But her gut pulled at her. Something was wrong. She didn’t trust this guy. The same sense that told her she’d be safe with Noah was now gnawing at her to get away.
But she had to find help. Perhaps another ranger was nearby.
She waited until he reached the desk again, and then asked, “Is it possible another ranger checked him in?” She hoped he would tell her when the other rangers were on duty, or where she could find them.
But instead he only answered, “No.”
Madeline waited a long time, hoping he’d say something further, but he only watched her, tight-lipped, as if waiting for her to say something.
“Well,” she said at last. “Thanks.” For nothing, she added mentally and turned from the counter. Shouldn’t he at least have offered to assist her, if nothing else? She had suffered a “nasty blow,” as he had put it.
“Good luck,” the ranger told her. “It’s wild and woolly out there.”
For a second Madeline paused before she went out the door. She almost turned to confront him, to ask him why he was lying about Noah. But then she decided she’d go find another ranger. Something was wrong here, and her instincts told her to get away from him. Somehow she had to find help elsewhere. Noah could be out there, right then, gravely wounded.
Or worse, came a grim voice from within her. With utter clarity, the sounds of his agonized screams returned to her. She ran a nervous hand over her face and left the ranger station, stepping once more into the desolation of the backcountry.
Beyond the building she saw the lone structures of two typical National Park Service vaulted toilets, dry toilets that were a step up from pit toilets. She hadn’t stopped for anything but sleep since last night. Her bladder pressing painfully, she headed for the toilets.
The smell of pine was strong in the air as a wind kicked up, blowing down into the valley where the ranger station was settled. Overhead a few clouds had gathered during the night, and Madeline found herself shivering a bit in spite of her warm fleece. Noah’s warm fleece, she thought.
She approached the dark wooden structures and selected the one marked Ladies, surprised at how little the toilet smelled. The faint scent of citrus from an air freshener wafted in the still air, and a fly buzzed dully at a small, square window. Her boots squeaking on the smooth cement floor, she entered.
Madeline had just locked the door when something wet and warm splashed on her hand. Instinctively she jerked it back, seeing a rivulet of red dribble between her fingers. A few more splatters hit the floor in front of her.
Blood on the brown floor.
Then a thick, warm drool rained down on her head.
Gasping, Madeline reeled back, confused, and looked up. The bathroom had a high ceiling that came to a point, with rafters below it.
And hanging over one of the rafters was a corpse of a man, his face twisted in a hideous scream.
It took Madeline only a second to take in that the corpse was naked save for its underwear and one prominent piece of clothing: a hat.
A ranger’s hat.
And then, a second later, her brain registered the cause of the dripping.
The ranger she had spoken to earlier was up there in the shadows with the body, chewing on a tattered leg, digging his nails hungrily and greedily into the raw, bloody flesh.
Then she watched transfixed as the ranger’s head suddenly elongated and shifted, becoming more streamlined as the skin grew darker, darker, until it was an inky black. The fingers grew long and wiry, claws springing from the tips. It continued to tear into the body, its brown ranger’s clothes stained red, until it looked down at Madeline with the same red disc eyes that had frightened her so the night before.
“Forgive my rudeness. Meat is best when it’s still warm,” it said in a low voice, a piece of ragged flesh hanging from its mouth.
Madeline’s jaw fell open. She had never talked to a ranger at all. This… thing had killed the ranger and taken its place, shape-shifting from hideous creature to human with so much ease, and now it paused from its meal, looking down on her with hunger, readying to tear into her, just as it had probably torn into Noah up on the mountain.
Wiping its dripping mouth, it leapt down from the rafters, landing solidly in a crouch before her.
Madeline screamed.