Alice Henderson - Voracious

They checked the closets and even under the bed at her request. The cabin was small and sparse, built in the ’30s, and the bedroom contained only a bed, desk, and a rickety chair. Bathrooms were in separate buildings, shared by all the guests of the cabins. Madeline had seen one of the structures on the way in, a large, lighted building that looked like it had flush toilets and even hot water. The thought of such luxuries after her ordeal almost made her giddy.

After Noah checked the cabin, she collapsed into a chair. In the soft glow of a table lamp, she could clearly see the concern on Noah’s face and something else: a profound tiredness. He looked over, caught her staring, and she glanced away toward the windows.

They didn’t look very secure. What if the creature came scrambling up the stairs, broke a glass pane in the door, reached in with furtive fingers-

“Will it… come? Here?” she asked at last. “Will it find me?”

“No.” Noah shook his head. “There’s no reason to think that. His attacks are random…” His voice trailed off, eyes fixing on the darkness beyond the windows.

Madeline had the distinct feeling he was lying.

WHILENoah unloaded his backpack, Madeline walked the short distance to the bathroom with a toothbrush and toothpaste Noah had bought for her at the campground’s general store. She had no money on her whatsoever; no gear to speak of except what she’d been wearing when the water hit. Her clothes lay drying next to the little heater in the cabin. She was still wearing Noah’s warm fleece. Luckily she had money nearby, however; she’d stashed her wallet under the seat of her car. Tomorrow she’d get a ride to where her car waited, miles down the Going-to-the-Sun Road at the Loop Trailhead. And then she’d go home.

She had done all she could here. She’d notified the rangers, they hadn’t believed her, and Noah was determined to hunt the thing himself. He’d obviously had prior experience with it, and he was still alive, so hopefully he’d be successful. Madeline was lucky she was in one piece, and she felt anxious to go home.

A nagging feeling preyed on her, and she pushed it away. It loomed back up, though, surfacing repeatedly. She could help. She could use her ability.

This was exactly what she wanted to avoid: working on murder cases, sacrificing any chance she had of living a normal life and enjoying her youth, relinquishing whatever innocence and happiness was left to murder and violence.

Loud laughter brought her attention to a cabin a couple doors down from hers. A group of college-age guys sat around a bonfire in front of their cabin, laughing and drinking beer. They looked like they’d come out for a weekend of partying.

She envied their carefree demeanor. They could afford it. Probably their biggest concern was passing calculus or asking someone out for a date.

She walked by them and hesitated before the bathroom door. Closing her eyes, Madeline made a brief wish for a safe bathroom: nothing hiding in the stalls or behind the trash cans, or under the sinks, and especially no bodies in the rafters. Her wish done, she pushed the door open. It creaked on rusty hinges, admitting her to a large, brightly lit bathroom with a white tiled floor and white painted walls. Immediately Madeline looked up. No rafters. The ceiling came to a point above her. Nothing was up there.

Three stalls stood on one side of the room. All three doors were open. Cautiously Madeline crept past them, peering inside each one. The last door was partially closed, and she pushed it open with her foot.

Nothing.

Just a normal bathroom with normal toilets, two normal sinks, and a couple of shower stalls.

Outside she could hear the college guys getting rowdier and rowdier. She heard a beer can being crushed, followed by more laughter and drunken shouting. They turned up their radio so loud it overpowered the droning of a nearby RV generator.

After she’d gone to the bathroom, Madeline took a deep breath and stood before the mirror. Grasping the length of tape, she carefully peeled the bandage aside. Underneath, an inch-long angry-looking gash nestled amid brown and blue bruised flesh. But it wasn’t as bad as it felt, and she replaced the bandage. She brushed her teeth and recapped the toothpaste. Taking another long look at the gaunt, exhausted Madeline in the mirror, she sighed, then walked to the door, where she paused. Originally a source of fear, the bathroom, having proved clear, now felt like a safe haven. The creature could be out there, even now, its approach muffled by the radio and the voices of the drunk guys across the way.

Noah said the creature killed at random. If that was true, then it was illogical to think it had followed her here. Except that it had intercepted her at the ranger’s station. But now that she was down in civilization, maybe it wouldn’t risk being seen.

She wished she’d asked Noah if it hunted in more populated places. She wished she’d asked Noah a lot of questions.

Opening the door, she stepped out into the night. The college guys were now throwing different things into the fire and seeing what effect it had. One of them sprayed something- Bug spray? she wondered-into the fire. It spat out flame in a long, flowing arc.

When they started talking rudely about a woman one of them had asked out, she slunk by them quietly, hoping they wouldn’t notice her.

“Hey!” one of them called as she began to pass by. “Hey, baby! Come over here!”

She just ignored him and kept walking, as if he wasn’t talking to her at all, but to someone else.

“Don’t just walk by!” slurred another. “We need some company!”

“Yeah,” a third one laughed as if that was the funniest thing he’d ever heard. “We need some company!” The way they said company let Madeline know exactly what kind of “company” they had in mind.

Great, she thought, a perfect end to a perfect day.

Madeline shot them an unfriendly look, which enabled her to see how many there were, and how far away.

She counted four by the fire. Just as she looked away, she glimpsed one of them get up from his seat and begin walking after her.

Madeline’s mouth went dry. At community college last semester, she’d taken a self-defense class, and she remembered the teacher saying to look around continuously when you were under threat so no one could sneak up on you. She also remembered the instructor saying, “GET him!” which meant strike at the groin, eyes, and throat.

Madeline picked up her pace and glanced behind.

“Shit!” one of the guys said. “Pete’s going after her.”

“C’mon!” another said. Soon all four guys were up, following her along the road. Her cabin was too far away. She didn’t think she could reach it in time. She made a decision and spun around quickly, shouting in a loud, aggressive voice, “What the hell do you want?”

This completely surprised them, and the lead guy stopped. The other three caught up with him.

“Just some company, baby.”

“Not a chance in hell.”

She waited to see their reaction. They looked unsure. She turned to leave, and then heard one of them start to run after her. She whirled around and came face-to-face with Pete. Hostile brown pig eyes glittered under a crop of blond hair.

She remembered what her instructor said about the “reaction range” and stepped back so she was too far away to be grabbed. At least she could see where all of them were, she thought, looking for an advantage.

“You’re a real fucking bitch,” Pete said, “you know that?” He stepped forward, and she echoed his move, striking out with her palm and connecting with his throat. He reeled back, grabbing his neck, a hiss of pain escaping from his lips.