***
Something warmed my face. Am I dead? I pondered the question for a while. Eventually, I forced my eyes open a crack, just for a peek.
A blinding light greeted me. Is this it? Am I dead? I debated those questions for some time, trying to decide what my fate was. However, in the end, aching bones and hunger pains helped me realize that I was indeed still among the living. The sun had found a crack in the trees above and was slowly dragging my frozen, stiff body back to life. With great effort, I rolled my whole self into the sun and lay there, grateful for the warmth. I listened to the comforting sound of chattering birds floating down from the treetops. It lulled me back to sleep.
A long time later, I awoke for good. Lying there, it slowly dawned on me that I hadn’t started this trip alone. With reluctance, I pulled myself up, looked around, and whistled…nothing. I tried again, with the same result.
“Stubborn mule,” I muttered.
Sometimes Smoke came when I called; and sometimes he didn’t. Thank goodness he usually didn’t wander too far. Hoping today wouldn’t be any different, I grudgingly drug myself to my feet, retrieved the crossbow and Smoke’s bridle, and began searching. I not only located his tracks, but also noticed a lightly worn path leading roughly in the same direction I wanted to go. I made a mental note to follow it after finding Smoke. With luck, it may lead to some type of settlement.
A half mile later, I found him standing in a thicket of trees.
“It’s just me,” I assured him, while stroking his nose and slipping on the bit-less bridle.
Although spirited at times, Smoke, for the most part, was an exceptionally obedient horse, and we had both learned to trust each other without question. As a result, I never saw a need to make him wear a bit in his mouth, which I’m sure made it easier for him to eat while we were on these long trips.
I worked the reins back over his neck and hoisted myself up onto his back. I retrieved the rest of our belongings and, in no time, we were off, following the newly discovered trail.
Sharp pains in my stomach reminded me that I had been two days without food. I readied my crossbow, searching the woods for something to eat.
The warm autumn day lifted my spirits. The trees were beautiful with their changing leaves—some had already made their way to the forest floor. Birds still chattered away in the treetops. The whole scene comforted my soul.
However, it was a peace that wouldn’t last long.
Smoke started to tense, ears swiveling like a deer.
“Easy Boy,” I said in a soothing voice; but I also trusted him enough to pay attention when he sensed something unusual. Smoke refused to be comforted. His gait became irregular and he hesitated going forward. I coaxed him on; but to be safe, I secured the crossbow to my saddle and began reloading the musket with fresh powder.
The forest grew thick, and the trail wound its way through tall ferns and bushes growing along the path. The thought crossed my mind that this would be a good place for an ambush. While in the midst of pondering that unnerving idea, I realized, with alarm, that there were no sounds. Birds had stopped their chirping; and the whole forest, again, held its breath. The putrid smell of rotting flesh reached my nostrils and churned my empty stomach. At that instant, the trap was sprung.
***
Smoke saved me. He saw the beast first and lunged forward. At the same time, I noticed, or perhaps more sensed, motion. In a lightning-quick movement, coming at me from the side, a gigantic, furry paw, with sharp claws, shot out of the foliage and went straight for my throat. I twisted frantically out of the way. It missed my neck, but sliced through my clothes, leaving a long gash in my upper arm. I cried out in pain. The force of the slash, Smoke’s leap, and my desperate move to clear the monster, nearly wrenched me out of the saddle. The musket, still in the hand attached to my wounded shoulder, began to slip. Swiftly, I dropped the reins and caught it with my good arm. A bone-chilling, ferocious growl came from the cover of the undergrowth, and the rest of the beast crashed through the bushes and onto the trail behind us. Sharp, yellow teeth and black claws lunged at Smoke’s hindquarters. In a blur, I wheeled the musket around and fired at what I hoped was dead center of the creature. The weapon erupted with a bellowing crack, temporarily obscuring my vision, as white smoke vomited out the end of the barrel. The shot was greeted with a howl of pain. A small cloud of red mist mixed with the smoke which hung in the air, telling me that the little round ball had found its intended victim. The recoil tore the musket from my one-handed grasp, hurling it into the bushes.
A morbid curiosity overcame my desire for flight, and I seized the reins to keep Smoke from bolting. As the cloud from the musket cleared, I was astounded to see that the creature didn’t lie at our feet as I had expected, but was staggering away from us, walking upright on two feet. It was huge, slightly bent, and covered with what looked not to be fur, but hair, all over. Long hair flowed from its flat head, past its broad shoulders, and mixed with the thick mane that covered its entire body. It had an incredibly muscular arm that extended down to its knees; the other appeared to be clutching its shoulder. It reminded me of the pain in my own, and I became aware of the strange sensation of warm blood oozing down my cold skin.
The beast turned and filled the path where I had come. I gasped; there was no hair around its eyes and squashed nose. It had a broad sloping forehead. Large feet and hands replaced what I had first thought was a paw; both were tipped with long, black, claw-like fingernails. A wide mouth, with lips twisted in a snarl, revealed sharp, yellow, pointed teeth as long as my fingers. The black, human-like eyes burned with hatred and fury. A new terror seized me as I recognized the dark, sucking void of emptiness behind its eyes. Like the monster in the clearing, it too had no soul.
Lifting its massive head towards the sky, it emitted a loud, high, staccato-like cry that sent the silent birds in the treetops screeching into the air. I listened in horror as a similar cry answered frightfully close by. My blood turned cold when, incredibly, another call also responded a little farther away than the last.
My curiosity satisfied, I kicked Smoke hard into action. We tore down the path at a frantic pace. My heart leapt in my chest when, minutes later, I heard crashing through the forest. With a snarl, a second monster burst onto the path behind us, and the deadly chase began. We flew down the trail, ducking branches and weaving through the trees. The pursuing beast slowly faded behind the raw speed of Smoke; but it wouldn’t be enough. After another mile, ahead and off to our side, I saw small trees and bushes give way as a third monster pushed its way through the thick foliage. The ugly brute was just about to materialize on the trail in front of us. Amazingly, it was even larger than the other two, easily surpassing my height on top of Smoke.
As quickly as I could, I unlatched the crossbow with my good arm, brought it up, aimed, and shot.
Incredibly, the beast realized what I was doing and, as I fired, it slid on its feet and leaned back just as the first arrow sliced through the air, inches from its head. The arrow sailed past and embedded into a tree with a thump.
The shot wasn’t a complete loss, however; it slowed him enough to allow us to gallop past. The monster continued its pursuit and crashed onto the trail behind us with an angry, bellowing roar, which made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.
Smoke increased his pace without needing to be told. I re-secured the crossbow and dumped the extra weight of the packs, with the exception of my arrows. There was no need to keep the extra gunpowder, balls, and other things, when what Smoke really needed was less weight.
The forest grew too thick to do anything but stay on the trail. I looked back and saw the beasts still in pursuit, but they were fading back now and losing ground.
We reached the top of a gently sloping hill and were greeted with another surprise. A large, fallen tree blocked the path—it was too late to stop.
We’re going to collide, I thought in a panic.
In one last, desperate move, I coaxed
Smoke to keep going and took our only chance of escape….We leapt. I’d never seen Smoke (or any other horse, for that matter) jump, or even attempt to jump, something so high. Up we flew. Unable to look at our impending disaster, I closed my eyes and waited for the impact. Miraculously, we still continued up and up, and then crested. I opened my eyes in time to see Smoke’s hind legs tuck up as we sailed over the trunk. I couldn’t tell if they had scraped and had no time to debate it. We came down hard, but Smoke magnificently bore it in stride and kept going. I whirled my head around to see if the monsters would give up. To my disappointment, they didn’t even slow down. Only a second apart, one after another, they leapt. Planting the palms of their hands on the top of the tree, they heaved themselves up, tucked their legs into their chest, and launched over it, landing lightly on their feet. I cursed under my breath.
The chase continued and the trees thinned out. The beasts flanked us, spreading out, with one on each side. Stealing another look, I stared with a strange fascination as they easily dodged trees, occasionally using their long arms and knuckles to catapult over and around obstacles.
Smoke’s breathing grew labored and sweat drenched his dark gray coat as he struggled on. The miles up and down the valleys and hills were taking their toll. If he collapsed now, we’d both be dead—though odds were we were going to die anyway. The only question was: would it be under the crushing weight of Smoke as he cartwheeled into the ground; or, would it be by sharp teeth and claws tearing us to bits? I decided it would be better to make a stand and not go out like some scared rabbit fleeing from a wolf—even though I felt more terrified than any rabbit.
I looked back one last time to formulate a strategy and saw that they, too, were tiring—but not fast enough. If Smoke hadn’t run so much just two days previously, on top of our long trip, I think he could have easily outrun and even outlasted them. As it was, it looked like they would catch us.
I could see a clearing ahead. For better or worse, we’d make our stand there.
Chapter Five: Deliverance
WE burst into the clearing. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this. There was a large lake, with trees growing right up to the water on the far shore. The shoreline nearest me had a rickety rowboat tethered to a sagging dock. In front of the lake, facing me, sat a beautiful cabin with large windows and a porch that wrapped around it. There was a barn to the left of the home; and a lush green pasture, in which cows were grazing, stretched out before it all. Everything was surrounded by a wooden fence that was now only a few yards away. We hurtled over it and dashed through the pasture toward the house. From the porch, a dog started to bark wildly and a thin man, with a broom in his hand, turned and gaped at us. I imagine seeing a rider pursued by two huge monsters isn’t a sight you’d likely experience every day.
Charging up to the cabin, I leapt off Smoke, flew over the railing, and landed on the porch. The dog growled furiously. Ignoring it, I grabbed the man by the hand, pulled him into the cabin, and lowered the wooden arm that blocked the door. He came easily, without protest; but then, I was surprised that he hadn’t run into the cabin upon seeing us and barred the door himself. I thought painfully about Smoke still out there and hoped the monsters would leave him and go after easier prey, like the cows.
“Shouldn’t we perhaps introduce ourselves first?” asked a smooth, silky, feminine voice.
I whirled around and was surprised to see that the man wasn’t a man at all, but a woman dressed like a man with boots, breeches, a white shirt, and striking blue eyes. Her long brown hair, pulled behind her head, showed strands of gray; and she had slight wrinkles around her eyes. She was actually quite beautiful. Though she looked to be around 40 years old, I had the impression her age was deceptive, and that she was probably older.
Urgently, I demanded, “Do you have any weapons, ma’am?”
With an amused look, she pointed to an array of muskets, pistols, knives, and swords hanging above and around a huge stone fireplace, and said, “Over there.”
How did I miss them? I thought.
“Are they loaded?”
“Yes.”
Ignoring the burning pain in my shoulder, I grabbed two pistols and tucked them under my belt. Next, I grabbed a musket and flung myself against the outer wall, expecting the beasts to smash the door and charge in at any moment. Nothing happened.
The dog had quit growling and now fell silent. I slid against the wall over to a window and peered out, expecting the worse. Smoke stood untouched, but still covered with sweat and breathing hard. I looked around and saw… nothing. I unlatched the door, stepped back, and braced for the onslaught…again, nothing. Using my foot, I flung the door open and leapt out, swiveling the musket left, then right…still nothing. The dog sat on the porch looking at me as if trying to figure out what I was doing. I made my way down the steps and scanned the tree line and everywhere else.
“Are you expecting someone?”
I turned and looked up at her. She was leaning against the door frame, with the door still wide open.
“If you tell me, maybe I can help. Should I arm myself first?” she asked with an amused look.
“They…they were there,” I stammered, “right behind me!”
“Who was?”
Now I was getting irritated.
“The monsters!!!” I exclaimed. “Good heavens! How could you have missed them? They were right on me!”
Her smile faded. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to poke fun at your situation; it’s just that you were the only one I saw.”
“They were probably only feet away from me when I cleared the tree line.”
She doesn’t believe me, I thought with despair.
“They followed you all the way to the edge of the woods?” she queried.
She seemed more curious than concerned.
“Yes ma’am,” I said. “Do you believe me?”
“I do. But when you say they…” She gasped. “Oh my, you’re wounded. You’d better come in so I can take care of that.”
I couldn’t agree more, but asked, “What about the monsters?”
“I don’t see them, do you?”
I had to admit that I didn’t.
“Well then, come in and let me have a look at that.”
Still scanning the tree line, and more than a little baffled by the turn of events, I stammered, “I…I should tend to my horse first.”
Looking at my arm, which was still oozing, she said, “He looks to be in better shape than you do. He’ll be fine; I’ll take care of him after we get you all patched up.”
“No ma’am,” I said as firmly as I could muster under the circumstances. “I need to take care of him first. He just saved my life, and I want to make sure he’s unharmed. I owe him that much at least.”
She looked disapprovingly at me, but gave in. “All right, I can see there will be no convincing you otherwise. Hold on for just a moment.”
Disappearing into the cabin, she quickly returned with two large, red apples and a strip of cloth.
“You look pale and hungry,” she noted, handing me the apples. “Here: one for you and one for your horse.”
Then she took the cloth and tied it around my injured arm. I winced, but said nothing.
“There, that should slow down the bleeding some.”
I looked into her eyes. “Thank you.”
She smiled. “There is food and water in the barn, and grooming supplies on a nearby shelf. I’ll get some things ready for you when you’ve finished. Now off you go. And hurry back before you faint from hunger and lack of blood; I’d really rather not have to carry you.”
My apple lasted about as long as it took me to get over to Smoke, and it was delicious. Smoke must have thought so too, because his disappeared in two bites. I quickly scanned his legs for any injuries. Amazingly, he looked unscathed. I led him into the barn where two other horses were stabled. One-handedly, I removed the remainder of the gear, groomed and fed him, and then returned to the cabi
n.
I hesitated at the door, wondering if I should knock or just go in. My answer came quickly.
“You didn’t bother to knock the first time, why start now?” she called from somewhere in the cabin. “Come on back to the kitchen.”
I did and was greeted by the smell of something wonderful roasting in an oven; it made my mouth water. A table was pushed up under a window that gave a spectacular view of the setting sun reflecting across the tranquil lake. On the table were two lit lamps, some clean rags, a needle, thread, and a bottle of some kind of liquid.
“How did you know I was at the door?” I asked.
“The boards on the porch squeak for a reason—they let me know when someone is coming.”
“Oh, I didn’t think of that.”
“Most people don’t—except the ones who don’t want to be heard. They’re the ones you really have to worry about.”
“Do you get many of those?” I asked curiously.
“No, but still it’s better to be prepared. If something happens out here, there really is nowhere to go for help. Now sit down and take off your shirt,” she ordered. “This is going to hurt.”
I believed her.
She poured some scented liquid onto one of the cloths and began to scrub. As predicted, it turned out to be a very painful process. I gritted my teeth while she scoured, until all the dried blood and grime were gone and the wound was clean.
“Good,” she said, picking up the needle and threading it. “Well, I suppose it’s time we introduce ourselves.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“My name is Sarah Stone. You may call me Sarah, and please stop calling me ma’am—it makes me feel old. Now, who might you be?”
I started to say, ‘Yes, ma’am,’ but caught myself and simply replied, “John Casey.”
“Hello John. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
I looked up and our eyes locked. I decided to read her. However, as soon as I began, the window to her soul closed and blocked me from finding anything out. I had never experienced such resistance before in my life. I tried not to look surprised, though I’m not too sure I succeeded.
Marysvale Page 5
