He went into the dimness under the trees. Here and there he found patches of clear earth, and he hopefully examined these, but there were no more tracks. Twice he found places where fallen pine needles had been pressed down when some animal stepped on them, but the needles were strewn so thickly on the ground that they would not take a clear imprint. There was nothing that could be called a definite track.
Bob went on. The trees grew more closely together. The light grew dimmer, and at last the blue sky was hidden by the interlacing branches. Then, ahead, Bob saw brightness. He went more quickly, and stepped out from under the trees into a small clearing. Almost at his feet was what looked like a huge crack in the earth.
Bob edged forward and looked down into the crevice. It was a split in the ground almost fifty yards long and, in the widest places, about ten feet across. The sides were so sheer that they were almost straight up and down. At the bottom of this peculiar opening in the earth was snow, still unmelted by the summer warmth.
Bob knew what it was. While working at his part-time job at the library in Rocky Beach, he had come across a book of maps of hiking trails in the San Gabriel Mountains and the Sierras. One map of trails in the Mammoth Lakes area showed a similar crevice, caused by an earthquake that had fractured the ground. The temperature at the bottom of the Mammoth fracture, many feet below the surface, was like the temperature in a cave. It was cool even on the hottest day, so the snow that fell during the winter never completely melted.
The beep sounded on Bob’s directional signal. It was Jupe, reporting his whereabouts on the north side of the meadow. A second beep came in, and the needle swung westward. Bob activated his own device to answer his friends, wishing that they had brought the walkie-talkies. The discovery of an earthquake fracture within a mile or so of Anna’s inn was something Bob would have liked to share immediately.
Bob gazed along the rim of the crevice. The earth was bare, and in spite of the dry season it still held some moisture. When Bob stepped back from the split in the ground, he could see the imprint of his own sneakers. Perfect for tracking!
He began to walk along the edge of the crevice, examining the ground inch by inch.
Behind Bob, and to his left, a branch snapped.
Bob stood still and listened. A second ticked by, and two and three. After that single sound, the quiet was intense. Too intense. No birds called and no squirrels chattered in the trees. Even the wind had died. It was as if all the creatures who made their home on Mount Lofty were sitting motionless, watching and waiting.
Waiting for what?
A muscle in the back of Bob’s leg twitched. He shook himself and cleared his throat “Stop thief” he said, and his voice was loud in the stillness. “Get a grip on yourself. You’re letting your imagination run away with you!”
He listened again, and only heard the blood rushing in his ears. Then he heard something else — something horribly close. Behind him, almost at his shoulder, there was the sound of breathing.
Slowly, very slowly so as not to startle whatever it was. Bob began to turn.
There was a warmth on his neck. and then a touch — a soft touch, a mere brushing against his shirt collar.
Bob jumped, twisting in midair, trying to face the being that had come out of the woods.
Afterward, Bob couldn’t tell who screamed first, himself or the creature that had crept up on him. He only knew that his ears were ringing, shattered with sound, and that he was looking into a pair of dark, red-rimmed eyes. He had an impression of hugeness and matted hair. Then he was staggering, slipping on the clean earth at the edge of the crevice.
He fell. He fell backward and saw sky, and then the steep, bare walls of the earthquake fracture. His body twisted and snow at the bottom of the pit rushed up at him.
He felt the impact on his hands and knees and heard another scream. Then he blacked out.
10
The Naked Footprint
Bob opened his eyes. He slowly focused on snow and the brown, muddy walls of the crevice. He lay without moving, and listened. There were no more screams. There was no sound of breathing. Instead, from high above him came the trilling of a bird.
Carefully, slowly, he rolled over until he was on his back. His hands hurt and there was a pain in one shoulder, but nothing seemed to be broken. The snow at the bottom of the fracture had helped break his fall, though it had been too packed down to provide a soft landing.
Bob looked up at sunlight and blue sky. He remembered his glimpse of red-rimmed eyes and of matted hair on the creature who had come so close to him. He thought of giants prowling Sky Village, on the lookout for children who might have lingered out after dark.
After several minutes, he stood up, shivering from the chill of the grainy snow. His directional signal lay a few feet away from him. He picked it up, hoping fervently that the fall hadn’t broken it. It emitted a shrill, important little “beep” and the needle on the dial swung to the north. Bob smiled. Jupiter Jones was reporting in.
Bob held the signal and looked up to the rim of the crevice. The walls of the earthquake fracture were very steep. He knew he would never be able to climb out without help. He would have to summon Jupe and Pete. But what if the creature still waited above, near the crevice? He might be calling his two friends into danger.
Bob considered this for a moment, then decided to find out if the beast was still up there. He was sure no animal would knowingly leap into a pit. He could safely shout and see if the thing looked down at him.
“Hello!” he cried. “Hello up there! Are you there?”
Nothing moved near the rim of the crevice. After a few minutes, Bob decided that the animal was gone. He held up his directional signal and shouted, “Help!” Then, to be sure that the unit had registered his alarm, he shouted twice more. If Pete and Jupe were within two miles of him, he knew that their units would pick up his signal.
He activated his unit so that it sent out its directional beep to guide his friends to the crevice. Then he sat down on the snow and waited.
It seemed to Bob that he waited hours. But it was only fifteen minutes before Pete looked down into the fracture. Jupiter’s round face appeared a moment later.
“Bob, are you all right?” asked Jupiter.
“How the heck did you get down there?” Pete wanted to know.
“I fell,” said Bob.
“No kidding!”
“You’d have fallen, too, if you’d seen what I saw,” declared Bob.
“What did you see?” asked Jupe.
“Some animal — something big. I don’t know what it was. It came up behind me and… look, let’s go into the details later. Right now, I need to get out of here.”
Jupiter measured the depth of the crevice with his eye. “Rope,” be decided, “We’ll need a rope.”
“I’ll get it,” Pete volunteered. “I saw some yesterday when we were looking for the key. There’s a coil of clothesline in one of the kitchen cupboards.”
“You can make better time than I can,” said Jupiter. “You’re the athlete in the group. Get back to the inn as fast as you can and get the rope. I’ll stay here with Bob.”
Pete nodded. “Watch yourself,” he cautioned.
“Don’t worry,” said Jupiter.
Pete sprinted off through the trees and Jupe crouched at the edge of the crevice. “What did you see?” he asked Bob again.
“Honestly, Jupe, I can’t be sure. It happened so fast. I heard something behind me, and something touched me, and I turned around and… well, I saw eyes — really strange eyes. It was practically breathing in my face. I yelled, and I think it yelled. Then I fell.”
“Another bear?” said Jupe.
“Jupe, I really don’t think so.”
Jupe stood up and began to walk slowly along the edge of the fracture, peering at the ground.