A dark, terrible thought crept into her mind as her savior turned back into her killer. “Do you think he killed those guys so that he could still be the one to murder me?”
“Gods,” Noah breathed. “Probably.”
“That’s terrible!” Madeline almost yelled. “What kind of twisted, demented, screwed-up-” She stopped short when she realized how much her voice had raised. “Why me?”
“In the past, he has always chosen victims of extraordinary talent. Something that sets them apart from the rest.”
“You said he killed randomly!”
“I lied. I wasn’t sure if he had chosen you as a specific victim, and I didn’t want to worry you.”
“Well, I’m worried.” She swallowed back a painful lump that had suddenly moved into her throat and begun to home decorate. “Exceptional talent?”
Noah nodded. “He’s killed writers, inventors, architects, scientists, a classical pianist once…” His voice trailed off.
He knows? she thought, unnerved. This creature knows? “Touch me…”
“Do you know why he’d be after you?”
Madeline quickly shook her head. She just wanted to get away. Go home. “I guess I’m just one of those people who got in the way.”
Noah looked closely at her and then shook his head. “I don’t think so; he’s hunting you. If you were merely in the way, he would have just killed you outright.”
Madeline just wanted to slink away somewhere, make herself as tiny as possible. She looked to where it had vanished, though she knew it could probably leap out from anywhere it wanted, tearing them both down to bloody nubs. “Let’s go inside somewhere,” she said. “Somewhere light.”
“Of course!” Noah said quickly.
He took her arm, and they walked back toward their cabin, Madeline glancing behind all the while.
Up ahead, the cabin lay in the shadows of the pines, shielded from the dusk-to-dawn glow of the campground light posts. Madeline was leery to go toward the cabin, nestled in the dark, and she walked slower and slower, until Noah slowed to a stop beside her. “What is it?” he asked.
“It just looks so… small, so fragile.” She stared at it reluctantly. “Like the creature could tear right through the walls.”
He followed her gaze, studying the shadowed building. “I’ll be with you. Even if we manage to get some sleep, I’ll be right outside the bedroom on the couch.”
Madeline screwed up her face in hesitation. “What if he knows which one is our cabin?” She paused. “He could break in while I’m sleeping, slash your throat, then find me in the bedroom.”
“Glad to know I’ll be so helpful in this dark scenario of yours.” The corner of his mouth turned up in a smile.
She shook her head. “Sorry. I’m a little on edge, as you can imagine.” Her head pounded. Gently she checked the bandage again.
“I understand. Tell you what, then. We’ll go to the cabin. We can lock the doors, latch the windows, drink a cup of tea. I’ll stay up and keep guard.”
“But you’re already exhausted!”
“He needs to sleep, too, you know,” Noah said. “Not to scare you more, but he really likes to draw out the hunt. We probably won’t see him again tonight.”
“Well, that’s reassuring. About as reassuring as if you’d told me, ‘Don’t worry. We won’t get hit with another flash flood until tomorrow.’ ”
The chittering of a squirrel brought their attention up to a nearby tree. Madeline jumped. “It’s just a squirrel,” Noah said, putting a reassuring hand on her back.
The woods crept in on her, full of creaking wooden arms and reaching limbs. Then the disturbing hush of night fell over them, all animals save the squirrel quiet in the presence of a waiting, virulent predator. The quiet sigh of wind in the pines was alive with the breathing of the creature, and the chattered words of the squirrel were a terrified warning, uttered sharply and urgently.
“Let’s go inside,” she said, peering into the darkness beyond the dim yellow glow of the lights. “Now.”
Without a word, Noah turned and hurried with her to the cabin. Along the way he fished in his pocket for the keys, producing them as they climbed the two steps to the door. The chilly night air crawled down the collar of her jacket, and Madeline turned to keep watch behind them as he unlocked the door. She sniffed the pine-scented air, in case she could detect some unnatural scent on the wind. Only the familiar river and deep earthen tree smells greeted her. But somewhere out there, somewhere close, she could feel it… the heaviness of it staring at her, its red disc eyes narrowed with hunger.
As soon as she heard the lock disengage, she pushed past Noah into the cabin. “After you,” he said in a startled voice.
“Sorry, just anxious to get inside. Lock the door! Quick!”
Immediately, Noah entered, slamming the door behind him and reengaging the locks. Madeline sprinted around the cabin, rechecking locks on all the windows. The air inside was damp and chilly, and she shivered in the fleece jacket. After she was satisfied all entrances to the cabin were barred, she returned to the front door to find Noah staring out one of the windows, pushing aside one of the curtains.
She flipped a wall switch, spilling even more light into the cabin, then checked both rooms: the main room and the bedroom.
Noah turned to look at her as she returned to him. The pit of fear had given up its condo in her throat and opted to move into her belly. It spread itself out there, distributing its weight into one uniform mass of dread.
“I want to get out of here. Tomorrow I’m hitching a ride back to my car.”
He raised his eyebrows in concern. “Nonsense. My Jeep’s here. I’ll take you. You don’t need to hitch.”
“I’d leave now if I thought there’d be anyone on the road at this hour to give me a ride. Can’t we leave now?”
Noah shook his head. “He’s content to sit tight for now because he knows where you are. Leave, and he’ll pursue.”
“How reassuring.”
“You’d be putting yourself in danger again.”
“Maybe,” she said. “But I can tell you one thing.” She squared her jaw. “I’d feel a hell of a lot safer hitching a ride to my car than sitting here like a waiting duck.”
“I think that’s a sitting duck,” Noah said, looking frustrated with the situation.
“I don’t care if the duck is doing a goddamn gold-medal triple lutz. Waiting here is suicide, precisely because that thing knows where I am.”
Noah walked to her and put his hands on her arms, trying to comfort her. “Stay here with me,” he said. “I’m your best chance for survival. I have the only weapon that can kill him. As long as you’re here, where I can watch over you, he won’t be able to harm you.”
She pushed the curtain aside just slightly and peered out. “He’s so… powerful. How would you fight him?”
“I have a way. I’ve done it before. I’ve completely foiled his plans several times.”
She looked at him, then, his face determined. Then she looked back through the window. She couldn’t see anything beyond the bright glow of the dusk-to-dawn lights. Replacing the curtain, she turned to face him. She felt lost. Muggers could be tackled. Gunmen could be disarmed. But this creature was beyond anything she’d ever dealt with. Her life up to this point, even with its own strangeness, simply had not prepared her to fight a physical, supernatural being. Before last night, she didn’t even know such a thing could exist. Now she was expected to fight it. “He’s just seems so… undefeatable.”
Noah stepped closer. “He’s not. And I’m going to stop him.”
She looked at him doubtfully, but exhaustion crept up on her as she stood there, uncertain.
“C’mon,” he said. “You look beat. Why don’t you sit down? I’ve got some clean clothes you can change into.”
She looked down at his clothes she already wore, covered in dust from the hike down. “Soon I’ll have the whole set.”