Near the Bone(19)

Mattie climbed the bank, using her hands to steady herself as best she could, scrabbling in the snow. After what seemed like a very long time, she made it to the top. She was on the same side with the deer path that would lead home.

Home. Not my home. William’s home.

She trudged forward, hardly able to lift her feet. They felt like two heavy blocks of ice attached to her ankles. It was even darker under the trees, with the moon still hidden by the clouds and the branches crouching over the path like giants’ arms.

They might grab me up and take me away, take me to a place far from here. She knew she was on the verge of hysteria, that exhaustion and terror and pain had sapped her so that she didn’t know how to think in a straight line.

All that nonsense about Samantha. That’s a fantasy, a dream. There is no Samantha. There’s only Martha.

Her left eye throbbed. There was a faint buzzing in her ears and just under it she heard the crunch of her footsteps in the snow and her own labored breath.

A branch broke nearby, the crack of wood as startling as thunder.

Mattie stopped, listening hard, biting down on her lower lip to keep herself from exhaling.

It’s out there, she thought, and there was no doubt, no attempt to convince herself that it was a deer or a squirrel. The sound came from the creature. She knew it with every terrified beat of her own heart.

She peered into the trees, trying to detect any shape that wasn’t a tall, slim tree trunk, but it was hard to see anything properly with only one eye.

It could stand right next to me and I wouldn’t know. I’d never see it until I turned my head.

Mattie didn’t move for several moments. There was no other sound so she cautiously started forward again, trying to make less noise. She was conscious of every rustle of clothing, the swipe of her long braid against the back of her coat, the squeak of her leather boots, the rough exhale of her breath.

Something else was breathing.





CHAPTER FIVE



Mattie stopped again, terror making her whole mouth numb. This time she heard the sound of its claws against the snow for just a half second before it, too, paused.

It’s stalking me.

Panic bloomed inside her. Sweat trickled over her ears.

It’s stalking me. It’s playing with me.

Mattie had no doubt that an animal that large could kill her with one disinterested swipe. It had no need to hunt her.

Unless it wants me to be afraid first.

But it was impossible that an animal would think like that, or that an animal could really even think.

Only humans enjoy the fear of others, Mattie, don’t be stupid. It’s only being cautious, the way predators will be, making certain of their prey before they strike. You need to get away before it does.

But how? She didn’t know exactly how far she was from the cabin. The path to the stream and the traps from the front door normally took about a half hour or so round trip, but she wasn’t going at anything near her normal walking pace. The cabin couldn’t be too far from where she stood, but would she reach it in time? Would the creature allow her to get that far?

Just walk forward. Just move forward and try. If it attacks then you can . . . what? What can you do against a thing that size? You can’t even stop William.

She stifled a crazy laugh, the kind of laugh that only emerged when a person was at the end of their rope.

You won’t be able to stop it if it attacks.

(but I don’t want to die)

That stiffened her spine, because it was comforting to realize that despite everything, she didn’t want to give up and die right there. She still wanted to live, no matter how painful life was, no matter how much God had forsaken her.

Mattie moved forward again. Now that she knew the creature was near, she heard its subtle movements, the way it carefully mirrored her pace.

It’s not a normal animal. It’s not natural.

The creature was on her left side, the blind side. If she turned her head she might catch a glimpse of its shape out of her right eye but she didn’t need to see it to know it was there.

She felt it, felt the way it disturbed the air between them, felt the intensity of its stare—its watchfulness.

Mattie was so frightened she could hardly feel her body. Her limbs seemed both stunningly heavy and light as air, and she felt caught in a kind of slow-motion haze. Her head throbbed, especially the left eye, and her mouth kept filling up with saliva, forcing her to swallow convulsively over and over. All the while she felt the shadow moving in time with her, smelled the rank scent of its fur and the blood on its breath.

The blood in the snow and the animals hanging from the trees. Why does it do those things? Why does it not eat its prey the way an animal is supposed to? Why is it following me? Does it want to eat me or add me to its collection?

The atmosphere seemed to shift, the quality of the creature’s attention changed. She sensed it, the way she could smell a storm approaching on a sunny day. Mattie’s heart beat even faster than it already was doing—a little rabbit sprinting away inside the hollow of her body.

It’s had enough of this game. It’s going to attack.

She curled up her fists, though she didn’t know what to do with them, didn’t know how she might hurt the creature, didn’t know if she’d even have a chance. Her hands seemed like tiny, pathetic things—weak and useless.