Alice Henderson - Voracious

“Noah!” she cried, running toward him. Even closer, she saw the full scope of his injuries: a terrible slash in his stomach; blood soaked through the tear in his shirt; ragged, torn skin exposed beneath. A similar gash along one thigh had torn through his jeans. Through it Madeline saw muscle and the white gleaming of bone.

“It’s nothing,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m just glad you’re alive.”

“Nothing!” she said in disbelief.

“I’ll heal,” he said simply. “You should have seen this an hour ago. I could see my own bone marrow.”

She winced.

“How are you?”

“I’m fine,” she reassured him, feeling the slick of his sweat beneath her fingers as she hugged him back.

“But… I don’t understand.” He pulled away. “Didn’t he come after you? Didn’t he find you?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“But-” Noah shook his head, looked down. Ran a hand over his face, wiping blood out of his eye. “I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t he come after you?”

Madeline had no idea why. She stood there silently. “What happened?”

After a moment, Noah looked back up at her. “We fought, but I didn’t have the knife, so it wasn’t much of a struggle.”

She cut in. “I found the pack and came back with the knife, but I couldn’t find you.”

“I’m glad you’ve still got it. We crashed through the cabin, ended up breaking through the back door. I took off down a path in the back. He came after me…” His voice trailed off.

“Go on.”

“He gave me one hell of a swipe to the head. I went unconscious. As I faded out, I heard him move off in your direction.” He looked down her intently. “I thought he’d get you for sure.”

“Well, if he had come after me, I would have been ready.” She thought of the knife lying safe in the backpack.

“Damn, you’re tough.” He held her again, but she didn’t feel so tough. She was scared. Damn scared.

“So where do you think he is now?” she asked, hugging him again, placing her head on his shoulder.

They parted. “I don’t know. But I think we should get out of here. Fast.”

“I’m with you on that.” She looked around at the deepening shadows, wondering what they hid. “Let’s go.”

As they walked to the car, he asked her, “Where were you going?”

She shrugged. “To hike out.”

“Just like old times, eh?” he laughed.

“I wasn’t looking forward to the seven-mile hike back. As much as I love hiking, fleeing down a mountainside because I’m in mortal peril is getting really old.” She paused. Then, looking around she said, “Do you think he’ll find us again? I mean, back at the cabin in Apgar?”

Noah gingerly touched the wound on his cheek. “At this point, I don’t feel like we’re safe anywhere.”

She took in his injuries. “I think I should drive. You’re in no shape. Do you have a first aid kit?”

He shook his head. “I think it’s back at the cabin. But give me another hour. My leg and neck will be just fine.”

She gazed at him in amazement. “Not even Neosporin?”

He laughed.

Noah opened the doors to the Jeep, Madeline checking the back end about five times before she was convinced the creature wasn’t in there,

“It’s not back there,” Noah said finally. “Really. I don’t think it can change into a box of snow chains. At least, not a very convincing box of snow chains.”

She raised her eyebrows. “You’re the expert.” Hefting herself into the Jeep, she said, “Are you coming or what?”

Noah shook his head, a bemused smile on his lips as he climbed into the passenger seat of the Jeep.

“Should we return to our cabin?” she asked.

“It’s too late to go anywhere else tonight.” After a long pause, he added, “Are you going home now? I mean, now that you say you aren’t in danger?”

Madeline climbed into the driver’s seat quietly, resisting the urge to say yes. She was a changed person when it came to her gift. At least, she was trying to be. Finally she shook her head. “No,” she said at last. “I told you I’d help you track him, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.”

Suddenly reality dawned upon her. She thought of the centuries Noah had been tirelessly tracking the creature. He still hadn’t succeeded in killing him. Classes started in San Francisco in just two months. This was her chance at a normal college life. What was she supposed to do? Postpone classes? She stopped that train of thought. They had two months. Two whole months. And there was a difference now. Until now Noah didn’t have her gift aiding him. Now they would know where the creature was. And for now, she knew it would stay close to her, at least until it chose its next victim.

“I’m starving,” he said suddenly, cutting into her thoughts. “Are you hungry?”

She nodded.

“There’s got to be someplace to eat near the campground.”

“No cheese and crackers tonight?”

He shook his head. “There’s a diner out on Route 2. Great omelets.”

Her stomach grumbled at the thought of it.

“But don’t you even want to clean the cuts?”

“That’s what restaurant bathrooms are for.”

“Of course.” She threw the Jeep in gear.

At the diner, a rotund waitress in a burgundy apron and large-collared white dress seated them by a window. The diner was of ’50s cinder-block construction, the exterior painted utilitarian gray like an old bomb shelter. Heck, maybe it was one, Madeline thought. But she didn’t care. She was starving.

Bright neon signs in the window advertised a Breakfast Special and four kinds of beer.

Inside, attempts at cheery decoration included enough plastic flowers and plants to open their own craft store, and vases at every table held genuine carnations in reds, pinks, and whites.

They sat down in a vinyl-seated booth, the material creaking as they squeezed in.

The waitress, after giving Noah a long, disdainful look, as if he’d been out picking fights in the local bars, gave them each a menu and walked away. Noah excused himself for the men’s room and returned ten minutes later, looking infinitely better. He was right; he healed fast. Already the swelling in his eye had receded, and he could now open both eyes. The wounds in his neck and stomach were mere scratches, and the gash in his leg had almost closed completely, just a thin, red line visible through the tear in his jeans.

They made small talk while they glanced at the menu, resuming again after the waitress took their order. Noah looked nervous, glancing out of the large windows now and again at the darkened parking lot. When he wasn’t doing that, he studied her intently as she sipped the steaming cup of coffee that tasted like two-day-old peanut shells soaked in hot water. For once he seemed at a loss for words and kept unusually quiet as they munched on their omelets and steaming French toast drenched in maple syrup.

She glanced around at the other customers, most of them middle-aged men and women wearing ranchers’ clothes: worn overalls, warm corduroy shirts, and almost all the men in wide-brimmed cowboy hats. She loved that none of them stared at her or whispered surreptitiously. She was a total stranger here.

Country music played softly from a tinny speaker above them. A man sang about his “girl” in a mournful voice, crooning that he would have loved her forever, even if it took all night.

An electronic bell chimed as another customer entered the diner. Madeline turned to look at him and froze. It was Steve, the naturalist.

Or something pretending to be Steve.

He walked in, giving the waitress an easy smile and removed his ranger’s hat. With one hand he fluffed his sandy brown hair to get rid of his hat hair and began following her to a table on the other side of the restaurant. He walked with a bad limp.