“Umm, I suppose it’s in my nature….We can just sit if you’d rather.”
“That would be nice,” she said and took a sip of her tea.
There are times when a conversation is desired, and other times when it is enough just to enjoy each other’s presence; this was one of the latter. We watched the cows roam around the pasture in no particular fashion. A warm, gentle breeze rustled the leaves in the trees and caressed my face. Despite the warmth, there was still a suggestion of fall in the air. I thought of the calm before the storm, lulling the unsuspecting into a false security. As quickly as the weather can change, so can our fate. In an instant, victory can change to defeat and defeat to victory. I was nearly overcome in the woods, yet here I was. Had I really conquered defeat or simply postponed it? I pondered that question.
Sarah finally broke the silence.
“I’ve always enjoyed sitting here, with the fragrance of the forest in the air, and the quiet sounds the wind makes.”
I agreed and told her so. I also took advantage of the broken silence and decided to fish for information.
“If you keep avoiding my questions, I’m going to think you’re hiding something.”
She smiled.
“I told you, I am,” she said teasingly. It wasn’t a flirtatious tease, it was more like joking between two old friends; and it had the surprising effect of disarming me. I found myself opening up in ways I normally wouldn’t with a stranger.
I played along. “And why would you want to do that?”
“Because… if I give you all the answers, you’ll leave.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“Sooner or later I’ll leave anyway.” I replied, although I had no desire to go.
“I know; but I prefer later,” she said.
“I didn’t know I had such an effect on women.”
“Oh yes, I’m very sure you do.”
Continuing the banter, I said, “Well, now that you mention it, I do know my appearance is quite irresistible to your kind.”
“Quite,” she said, trying to keep a straight face.
“And my demeanor can be very intoxicating.”
“Naturally. You’re forgetting, no doubt, your incredible strength and quick wit.”
“My dear woman, if you’d be patient I was getting there.”
“Ooh, beg your pardon, sir. Apparently, I had forgotten about your modesty, too.”
“Yes, of course—quite understandable in light of my other qualities.”
She laughed. “You better stop before I change my mind and throw you out.”
“Maybe you should, you barely know me.”
“Perhaps I will, but not yet. After all that time I spent fixing you up, it would be such a waste.”
“I am thankful for your help,” I said more seriously. “I’m fairly certain I wouldn’t be alive now, had I not found your place.”
“Yes, well, I’m glad you did. And it has nothing to do with the fact that I’m going to put you to work when you’ve healed up a bit,” she said with a wry smile.
“It’s the least I can do,” I replied truthfully.
Letting her playful demeanor slip away, she said, “You can do something else for me.”
“Really?” I asked. Based on her change of tone I wasn’t really sure I wanted to, but offered anyway, “If I can.”
“I want to know what happened to you in the forest.”
“I was attacked by the monsters and one nearly got me,” I answered matter-of-factly.
She rolled her eyes.
“See? This is what I meant when I said men tend to oversimplify things,” she said with exasperation. “I know all that. What I want to know are the details.”
“Yes, I suppose you’re entitled. All of the particulars then?”
“Spare nothing.”
I told her the tale and tried not to leave anything out. However, it appeared that my efforts were in vain, because she would occasionally ask for information that I didn’t think relevant, such as: how long it rained, how far we ran, whether or not I could smell them, or if I noticed anything odd about the forest, and so on.
When satisfied, she stated, “You’re lucky; few people survive their first encounter.”
“What do you mean?”
“By the time they realize something’s wrong, it’s too late to do anything about it.”
“I suppose I can see how that would happen,” I said. “When we were attacked, if I had been any slower, it would have been my neck slashed open instead of my shoulder.”
“Good thing you weren’t slow then.”
I agreed.
“They didn’t use to be this way,” she continued.
“You mean they weren’t always this aggressive?” I asked incredulously.
It was hard to believe from their appearance that killing wasn’t their primary purpose.
“No. When they first showed up, they avoided humans and were very good at it.”
“Then how did you see them?” I asked, hoping it didn’t sound sarcastic.
“Usually by accident. I think sometimes they weren’t being cautious. If they didn’t see or smell you, you had a small chance of seeing one.”
“And what happened if you did see them?”
“If you did, it was only for a moment before they turned and ran. As you saw for yourself, they are very fast and nimble.”
“Yes, I did notice that,” I confessed, remembering the way they easily launched themselves over and around obstacles. “Then what happened? Why did they change?”
“I don’t know for sure. I’ve thought a lot about that over the years, but haven’t come up with anything solid—except for some reason, they are organized now. For the first few years they were solitary, you would never see more than one. Then one day, it suddenly changed, and they became aggressive. More people started to see them…and die. The lucky few who survived, like you, told tales of coordination and even suggested some planning before the attack. It’s very possible they were stalking you, trying to learn more about the situation before they made their move.”
“Maybe, but they didn’t know I was coming.”
“No, they didn’t. Nevertheless, I think one tried to take you there in that clearing on your first night; but something spooked you and your horse, and you fled. After the first failed attempt, they become a little more cautious.”
I started to comprehend. “I see. Once the predator is discovered, catching its intended prey becomes much more difficult.”
“Yes, because the hunted can take measures to flee or even defend itself.”
“As I did.”
“Yes,” she agreed. “Humans can be very dangerous prey.”
A fact that Mr. Martin had learned too late, I thought. He lost his life going after his intended quarry…me.
“A few Brean have died in failed attempts,” she continued.
“Brean?”
“That’s what we call them. It comes from an old word meaning foul smelling and odious. Fitting name, don’t you think?”
Remembering the stink in the forest, before both encounters, I found the name most appropriate and told her so.
I continued, “It’s hard to imagine that they get killed often. The one I shot walked away, when just about any other creature would have died.”
“No, it doesn’t happen too often; but who’s to say the one you shot won’t die? Perhaps its wound will heal and maybe it won’t. If it doesn’t, you’ve sentenced it to a slow and painful death—a lesson that won’t be lost on the others.”
“What do you think they’ll do?”
“It’s hard to say. One thing is for sure…” she said, staring out into the trees with a concerned look on her face.
“What?” I pressed, when she didn’t finish.
“They are going to study you.”
“How do you know?”
“Because there’s one watching us right now.”
I froze. Searching her face to confirm she was serious, I slowly turn
ed and scanned the woods; but I saw nothing. I looked at Sarah again. Despite her calm voice, she was tense. I tried following her gaze, but still couldn’t see anything. Normally, I was the first to spot an oddity, and it somewhat bruised my ego to finally have to admit, “I don’t see it. Where is it?”
She pointed to a clump of trees a few hundred yards away on the edge of the woods.
I tried again with no luck. Slightly exasperated and embarrassed, I confessed, “I still can’t see it.”
“Don’t get too worked up about it,” she said patiently. “I have a lot more experience with them than you do. You’re concentrating too much on one area. You have to contrast it with the surroundings. It’s like trying to tell the difference between two shades of white. If you focus on one without seeing the other, it’s hard to see the variation. To really tell the difference, you have to hold them up to each other and take them both in at the same time.”
Then her voice changed ever so slightly and she added, “You have to sense them as much as see them.”
I looked at her curiously; but she was still fixed on the trees. So, without focusing on anything specific, I visually took in as much of the forest as I could. Immediately, I saw something different about one tree in particular, but had a hard time telling what it was. I squinted, yet it looked like all the others as far as I could see. Then, I did something I hadn’t ever tried before. Normally, I read only one soul at a time. I had never felt the need to perceive a whole group of people, nor had I ever thought it possible. But now, I forced my mind open and read the entire forest at once, as if it was one living organism. What I saw left me speechless. A whole new world opened up before me. I was amazed to see that every living thing has its own aura, or color, and different levels of brightness. The grass has one, the trees another; insects, birds, everything has its own special, spiritual characteristic. Even the same species differ from one another. I could see animals and insects buzzing and moving around that I never would have seen with my natural eyes. Even from this distance, the woods and fields teemed with life that just a few moments prior had appeared empty. The one exception was around the tree that had stood out before. Other than the plants and trees swaying in the gentle breeze, there was no other sign of existence. All animal life had either fled the area or had stopped moving and remained as motionless as possible. Perched high in the branches, obscured by the leaves, sat the still, dark vortex of the Brean, just watching us. Goosebumps made the hair on my arms and neck stand on end.
Exhaustion overcame me and the vision began to close. It was hard enough work to open an individual soul, but opening a whole forest was monumental—something I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep up for long. It was akin to holding a large barrel over your head; eventually, it would grow too heavy and your physical limitations would force you to lower it. But it didn’t matter. I knew what to look for now, and I could see it well enough.
Sarah was looking at me curiously. Suddenly self-conscious, I closed my gaping mouth. I must have looked like an idiot with my jaw hanging open and looking all over the place, but felt pleased to discover that at least I hadn’t drooled.
“Can you see it?” she asked.
“Uh…yes. Yes, I think I can,” I stammered, trying to recover.
Her gaze returned to the woods.
“How long has it been there?” I asked.
“Not long.”
“Did you see it come?”
“No, but I know it wasn’t there when we first came out.”
“Are we safe? Do we need to arm ourselves?”
“I don’t think we’re ever fully safe with one of those creatures around. Even so, I don’t think we are in any immediate danger. However, if it will make you feel better, you may get a weapon.”
It would make me feel better; but I stayed put since she wasn’t moving and I didn’t want to look like a ninny.
“I guess I’ll trust you,” I mumbled.
She smiled, which I thought strange in light of the circumstance.
“Have you been attacked?” I asked suddenly. I wondered why I hadn’t thought of asking before.
She hesitated before answering, “Yes.”
“Well?” I asked expectantly.
“Well, what?”
“Are you going to tell me what happened? You say how hard it is for men to tell particulars, but it’s near impossible getting information out of you.” Especially since I can’t read your soul, I thought.
“You can always get information out of me; the question is whether or not it’s the information you seek.”
I sighed, “See? You’re very good at not answering questions.”
“There really isn’t much to tell…”
“Go on,” I prodded.
“If you insist,” she said a little sadly.
“I do.”
“Very well, but it was a long time ago. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t dwell too much on the details.”
She glanced up and saw that the irony of her disclaimer hadn’t been lost on me.
She continued, “I’d grown accustomed to seeing a Brean now and then; not very often mind you, maybe once every few months. At first they terrified me, but then I grew used to them—well, as much as one could, I suppose. All the same, I got into the habit of taking my dogs with me wherever I went. Better to be safe, you know. Most animals usually leave you alone, but there is that chance they might change their mind.
“I lived in this state with them for several years. Then, one year, in early spring, everything changed. There were a few farms in this country at that time, some not too far away from here. One day, while traveling back from Marysvale, I heard screaming, and I ran toward it. I didn’t really think much of it at first; I thought that somebody was hurt and needed help. However, the nearer I got, I could tell something was very wrong. The cries were all different—filled with terror. At the same time, horrible growls and roars, sounds I had never heard before, filled the forest. Drawing closer, I saw the Whiting’s cabin on fire, surrounded by four of the monsters.”
It was the first time I had heard Sarah call them monsters.
“Joshua, the father, ran out to fight…they tore him to pieces.” Her eyes moistened up. “His screams, and that of his family watching, wrenched the air. My dogs went crazy. That’s when they noticed me. One of the creatures pursued me, and I ran. My dogs tried to defend me.”
She swallowed, and then continued in a shaky voice, “The fighting was terrible. As I fled, I heard bellowing roars, howls of pain, and the sound of tearing flesh. It all ended with a yelp; and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I was caught. I’m still surprised that I wasn’t. My lungs and legs burned, and I wondered if it was pointless to try to escape. I was nearing steep cliffs, with nowhere else to run. Nevertheless, the snarls from the Brean, and remembering the sight and sounds of that poor man, kept me going. In desperation, and the knowledge that any death would be better than at the hands of a monster, I did the only thing I could think of: I ran to the edge of the cliff and threw myself off.”
She paused, reliving the experience in her mind; and I contemplated what I would have done in her situation.
After a long moment, she continued, “It was very high, and I felt like I’d never hit the ground…. I guess I really didn’t. The impact of the lake water on my body was incredibly hard; at first I thought I’d broken something. The cold from the spring runoff was so intense that it sucked the life and movement right out of me. I started to sink, but I told myself, ‘Just one kick’…then another…and another, until I made it to the surface. The Brean was still at the top of the cliff, glaring at me. I thought it was going to jump in, but it didn’t. However, it did follow me from the cliff top. With no other alternative in sight, I swam for the opposite shore. I expected to drown. Finally, nearly frozen to death, I drug myself out on the other side.
“After a very cold night, I made my way back to the farms. In all, only three others survived: Michael Wolfe and his two you
ng daughters. They were also coming back from Marysvale at the time of the attacks. I found their mother in a field. All the rest of our neighbors were slaughtered….I buried most of them myself.”
Tears flowed down her cheeks and her hands shook slightly. I felt awful and guilty for badgering her to reveal the story, and wished I could take it back.
“I’m very sorry. I…I didn’t think it would have been so terrible. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”
“Don’t feel bad. Still, you need to know what they are capable of, now that you’re in their country.”
Suddenly, without warning, I felt my face flush, as an inexplicable anger flared to the surface. It wasn’t directed at Sarah, but her story had triggered something deep inside me. I wanted to grab all the weapons I could and blast that thing out of the tree.
Sarah studied my face for a moment and then said, “I know what you want to do, John. I’ve wanted to do the same thing; but now isn’t the time.”
“How do you know what I want and what time it is?” I spat, my voice trembling, trying to control the rage.
The fury within me erupted and my whole body was consumed with the desire to tear the beast to pieces. It enraged me in ways that I didn’t understand. My thoughts turned to the husband—and to the daughters who had to grow up without a mother; and I thought of the others, whose lives had also ended so horrifically. And it was all…for what? Because some beast decided to mark its territory? Were the people simply a nuisance to the Brean? Or was it just evil…and evil is irrational and selfish. Did it even matter why the monsters did it? No, not to me. I didn’t want to understand; I just wanted to kill them.
“John,” said Sarah, in a soothing voice that pulled me back from the dark chambers of my mind. She softly put her hand around my wrist. “Look at me.”
Reluctantly, I peeled my eyes away from the dark figure and turned them to the beautiful, compassionate face that was silently pleading with me.
“Let it go, John. Don’t strike in anger. There will be a time and a place for it; but it’s not now. Trust me.”
Something told me to believe her; and with great effort, I forced myself to settle down. Slowly, the illogical hatred subsided. My shaking and clenched fists eased, revealing little drops of blood where my fingernails had dug into the palms of my hands.
Marysvale Page 7
