Alice Henderson - Voracious

The creature moved swiftly, tearing a bloody gash into Noah’s neck. Then it let go and leapt to the ground, its feet no longer human but clawed and elongated. As Madeline grabbed for the day pack, he swiped it up deftly before she could reach it and flung it violently toward the forest beyond. Its arc in the sky was tremendous, so high she lost track of it in the branches. She kept running and slammed into Stefan, who toppled to the ground next to Noah. She scrambled to her feet, dry pine needles jabbing her hands. Stefan leapt up on muscular legs and faced her.

Noah moaned on the ground, grasping his neck as blood trickled through his fingers. The wound wasn’t bleeding as much as she had expected. A tense silence followed while she waited for the creature’s next move. Maybe if she ran now, she could hunt for the pack, find the dagger, and kill him.

They couldn’t fight him without the weapon. Stefan stood between them, his arms slightly outstretched, ready to leap in either direction. Darting to the side, she took off toward the trees, ready to hear the pounding of his footsteps behind her. She ran, kicking up dry soil in her wake, plumes of dust and pine needles. The ground beneath her blurred, dry mountain air stinging her eyes. Not able to hear over her own labored breathing, she chanced a look back.

He wasn’t following her. Instead, he had turned back to Noah, standing menacingly over his prone body. She had to find the knife.

Madeline ran toward the shadow of the forest, scanning the ground as she went. She entered the treeline, running and scanning quickly. Every dark lump looked like the day pack but turned out to be a shadowed stump or log. Glancing around at the tree limbs, she made sure the pack wasn’t dangling from a branch above her.

She spotted it then, some twenty feet away next to a fallen tree. She snatched it up, then turned back. In the clearing before the cabin, she rummaged through its contents and came up with the knife.

She broke from the treeline, making a straight line for the cabin. But now she didn’t see the creature or Noah. She raced to the door, fell panting against the wall, and searched the area for signs of any movement or struggle. She saw none and heard no sound except her own laborious breathing.

She burst through the door, then, knife gripped tightly in her hand. The kitchen was empty. So were the bedroom the bathroom. She left the cabin, running around its perimeter. The back door lay off its hinges, tilted to one side in the doorframe.

They were gone.

On the wind she heard a long, strangled cry, and her gut sank, churning with fear.

MADELINEstopped, listening in the ensuing silence for the direction of the cry, hoping for another. Only the sigh of wind in the pines met her ears. The cry of a distant hawk. A creek gurgling nearby. She thought of calling out for Noah but was afraid to give her position away to the creature. Instead, she crept silently around the perimeter of the cabin again, gripping the knife in one hand.

She hoped that Noah had successfully driven the creature away, but her gut knew Noah was no match for the creature. Without the dagger, the most he could hope for would be to knock it unconscious and run away. With a chill she thought of the men who had attacked her, of the gleaming, silver spike that the creature had summoned, driving it deep into their flesh.

She searched the entire area, moving in bigger and bigger circles radiating out from the cabin. She thought the cry had come from the north and searched longer in that direction, but to no avail. An hour passed, then two. She covered every foot of the surrounding area. Sweat clung to her body, stinging her eyes.

If Noah had been successful, even in knocking the creature out, he would have been back by now. She had to get help, get a rescue team going. Right then he could be lying helpless, bleeding to death while she searched fruitlessly.

She returned to the cabin and to Noah’s Jeep, flinging the door open. No keys. She was sure he had them in his pockets, but she just wanted to be certain. Quickly she checked the visors, under the seat, the glove compartment, and finally under the Jeep itself to see if he had a spare. No luck.

For a moment she frowned, looking at the steering column of the Jeep. In movies, criminals just touched two wires together and spark! They were on their way. She gazed at the tangle of cords hanging from the steering column, a rainbow of twisted cords bound together with small plastic clips. She had no idea which two would start the car if she touched them together. For a second she considered just ripping them all out and touching them all together until she found the right combination, but she thought that might just take the Jeep out of commission completely.

The nearest cabin lay two miles down the road, but when they’d passed it earlier, it showed no signs of occupation. And she knew it wouldn’t have a phone. The dirt road meandered for miles through the forest before rejoining North Fork Road on the outskirts of the park. She knew there’d be faster, more direct trails than sticking to the winding road.

At last a terrible wave of déjà vu washed over her as she realized she was going to have to hike down. She couldn’t just wait here for Noah and hope he came back. She couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t lying far away somewhere, wounded, or worse. If she was going to get help, she had to do it now.

Putting the driver’s seat forward, she rummaged in the back of the Jeep, pulling out Noah’s huge backcountry pack. She could hike out without it, she knew, but there were a few supplies she didn’t want to be without. Laying it out on the ground, she unzipped the main compartment. From inside she took the map, a compass, two bottles of water, five mint-chocolate Genisoy protein bars, a purple and black Gore-Tex raincoat, Noah’s fleece jacket, and a baseball hat that read “Banff National Park” above the bill. These she stuffed in the day pack along with a flashlight, and zipped it up. She kept the knife in one hand. Quickly she returned the huge pack to the Jeep and shut the door. Hunkering down beside the car so she’d have at least a little cover, Madeline opened up the backcountry map and studied it.

In a few moments she’d located her position: a graded dirt road that ran from North Fork Road up a ridgeline. She was about thirty miles from the west entrance of Glacier National Park if she took the road. She shook her head. That would take too long. Way too long. She’d have to spend the night out, possibly two. She studied the map closer, and found a nearby trail that cut down into a valley and led to the Polebridge Ranger Station. According to the map, it was a mere 7.5-mile trek to the station, almost all of it downhill. She stood up, slinging the day pack over her shoulders.

According to the map, to the west the trail came within four hundred feet of the graded dirt road. She hiked in that direction, crossing the front yard of the cabin and entering the treeline beyond. Trying to stay in as straight a line as possible, she wove between pines and stepped over logs, avoiding thorny brambles.

The sky rumbled, and a few moments later rain erupted, trickling down through the trees. She paused, pulling out the rain gear and donning the parka.

“Madeline!” A sudden voice crashed in through the quiet pitter-patter of rain on her hood. She turned back around, trying to find the source of the voice. “Madeline!” shouted the voice again. Noah.

“Noah?” she called out, taking the hood down so she could see better.

“It is you!” Peering through the trees, she saw movement back at the Jeep. He ran out from behind it.

When she saw his face as he grew closer, Madeline cringed. One eye was completely swollen shut, the rest of his face bruised and cut. Blood wept freely from the gash in his neck as he hobbled quickly toward her with a painful-looking limp.