He frowned. He felt a physical imbalance, not unlike the one experienced in Hans Christian Andersen’s famous tale, The Princess and the Pea. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled out a crumpled mass. He smoothed it and stared at the name James Corbotch.
Stared at the phone number beneath it.
He pushed away from the wall. Took another deep breath of New York’s foul oxygen. Then he started walking again, slower and with purpose. Maybe he’d been wrong five months ago. Maybe forgiveness was in his reach.
Maybe it was something he could earn.
Chapter 11
“What are we going to do?” Bailey Mills’ heart pounded against her chest with continuous ferocity. “We can’t stay here forever.”
The hipster with the T-Rex shirt studied the clearing from their perch high up in the strange fruit tree. Below, the saber paced around the trunk at a wide distance, growling softly. “If you’ve got a suggestion, I’m all ears.”
Mills didn’t have a suggestion. In fact, she could barely think straight. Hours ago, she had raced across the clearing with Toland, Skolnick, Elliott, and the hipster. While the saber watched, they’d scaled one of the orange-barked trees and taken refuge among its yellow-green fruit. Then they’d waited. And waited.
And waited.
“Maybe we can—”
Wood splintered and cracked loudly, like gunshots. Shrieks rang out and Mills felt herself swaying and swinging back and forth. Then the tree’s branches, stretched to the breaking point by the extra weight, collapsed in a sudden flurry of noise and commotion.
Mills and the others plummeted to the earth, smashing tall reeds to the ground. Mud splattered everywhere. Chirping in unison, birds took flight from nearby treetops, scattering to the winds.
For a moment, Mills lay in the mud, dazed and disoriented. Then she remembered the saber, remembered how it had stalked them for the last few hours. Get up, you idiot, her brain shouted. Get up and run!
Skolnick shrieked, causing even more birds to shoot into the sky. The saber, which had watched them fall from ten yards out, turned to look at her.
Skolnick, out of her mind with fear, stood up. She raised her voice a few decibels until she was screaming at the top of her lungs.
Mills’ throat ran dry. Despite hours of quiet whispering with the others, she still had no clue how a long-extinct creature had suddenly come back to life. Eventually, she’d just accepted it as reality. But now, back on level turf with the saber, she found herself wondering about it all over again.
Rising to her haunches, Mills stole along the edge of the clearing to a patch of undisturbed grass. Then she chanced a quick look at the saber.
The beast hadn’t left its position. But now its head was cocked to the side. Its eyes, orange and deadly, shifted a few degrees as they followed the now-fleeing Skolnick into the forest.
The saber’s teeth gnashed together. Then a giant roar rang out. Paws slapped the earth as the beast tried to race forward. But it slipped on the wet mud, losing precious seconds in the process.
“Run,” the hipster shouted. “Run, damn it!”
His words cut through the thick air like a hatchet. And within seconds, Mills was running, running for her life.
Brian Toland raced into the surrounding forest, hot on Skolnick’s heels. Tricia Elliott was next to clear the boundary.
Mills’ bare feet skidded in the slippery mud. Somehow she kept her balance long enough to reach the forest, followed closely by the hipster. But as she passed under the canopy of thick branches and fruit, a new problem arose. Rocks, some sharp and some just hard as hell, littered the ground. More than once, her bare feet crunched on these unforgiving objects. And yet, she continued to run, propelled by that most primal of fears.
Prickly bushes, dripping with berry-like fruit, lay beyond the initial layer of trees. Fortunately, she was able to avoid them by following the lead of those in front of her. Confident in her path, Mills shifted her eyes to the ground. Carefully, she directed her feet, soaked with blood and wet dirt, over the rocky terrain.
She ran into a different section of forest, one laced with pine trees. Behind her, she heard damp leaves smooshing against mud. Heavy, constant breathing. Wet twigs snapping dully underfoot.
She yelped as something sharp grazed her left thigh. Looking down, she saw the saber running next to her, its horrible jaws snapping at her leg.
It paced alongside her for a few moments. Then it dropped back and fell in behind her. Spitting and snarling, it sprinted forward.
The hipster grabbed her right arm and yanked her, forcing her to the right. The saber, already airborne, tried to compensate by shifting its massive head toward her.
Twisting her neck away from its curving teeth, Mills lashed out with her left arm. Her fist crashed harmlessly into the beast’s tough hide, glancing off it with little force. But it was just enough to direct the jaws away from her exposed face and toward empty air.
Landing on all fours, the saber roared again as it tried to whirl around on a three-inch carpet of pine needles. But its momentum carried it forward, causing it to smack solidly against an ancient tree trunk.
Mills shot the hipster a grateful look.
He gave her a grim one in return.
She tried to run faster. But her feet, which had seen far more nail salons than jogging paths, felt sore and tired. Her lungs were on fire. Meanwhile, her toned upper body, sculpted for looks rather than function, screamed for a break from the physical exertion. Only sheer terror kept her from falling to her knees and succumbing to a horrible fate.
Pine needles stung her feet and thin branches whipped at her face as she followed Elliott and the others through a patch of dense cedars. Her brain yelled at her, demanding more speed. Or, at the very least, a plan of escape.
It occurred to her that Skolnick, firmly in the lead, was in a pretty good place at the moment. It brought to mind an old truism. To survive, Skolnick didn’t need to outrun the saber.
She just needed to outrun everyone else.
Mills fought back the rising panic in her chest. Why was she sticking with these people anyway? It wasn’t like she knew them. Then again, what else could she do? Go off by herself? She wouldn’t survive a day in this place without help.
Swiveling her head to the rear, she saw trampled needles, some torn up turf, and a few mossy rocks. Plus, about a billion flies that continued to nip at her sweat-drenched skin.
But no saber.
Air rushed and a blur of movement caught her eye. Shifting her gaze to the right, Mills saw the saber streak past her, dodging between pines and prickly bushes.
“Look out,” Mills gasped. “It’s—”
The air swirled loudly, drowning her out. Thundering noises rose above the current—thump, thump, thump—as the ancient beast galloped past Elliott and Toland. Racing ahead, it coiled up into a tight spring of tendons and muscles.
Then it lunged at Skolnick.
The businesswoman screamed as the saber knocked her to the ground. Her head snapped back, striking a weather-beaten rock. Her tongue lolled out of her mouth and she went limp.
Mills ground to a halt. The others did as well. For an excruciatingly long moment, she stared at the saber, at the unconscious Skolnick. Wondered what — if anything — she could do.
Ribs cracked as the beast’s paws, large and heavy, crunched down upon Skolnick’s chest. Lifting its head to the canopy, the saber roared.