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“It’s that smart?”

She laughed sardonically. “It’s brilliant.” She brought a tired hand to her forehead. “Let me think a minute. It knows where I live, but taking the bus just might buy us enough time to at least get back to Mothershead and get more help. Maybe we can overpower him again somehow. In a more permanent way.”

“You keep calling it ‘him.’ What is it?”

Madeline looked up at George and almost smiled. She had asked Noah the same question that first night on the mountain. Now she was the one in the know, and her poor friend was trying to understand. She put her arms around him. “It’s so good to see you,” she told him. Then, wondering when exactly the bus left Whitefish, and where she should catch it, she pulled away and reached into the back pocket of Noah’s jeans to pull out the slip of paper the train station clerk had given her.

Her fingers closed around a piece of paper, but it wasn’t the clerk’s note. She fished it out. It was the receipt from the cabin they’d stayed in.

Immediately powerful visions hit her.

Noah, distraught, devising a plan to get Madeline to leave the park by acting crazy to get her out of danger…

Noah planning to go to the creature’s cabin to lie in wait, believing that if he ingests more blood, he will be able to manifest his own metallic spikes and kill the creature…

A gasp escaped her lips. He didn’t hate her. It had been an act-all those hateful words he spat at her-just an act to get rid of her, to protect her. Relief flooded over her as the hurt she’d felt so deeply was replaced by hope, and then fear as she thought of the danger he was in. He couldn’t face the creature alone and unarmed. Clutching the receipt, she pushed the door button and ran into the observation car. George followed. Dashing between the seats, she grabbed up the camouflage coveralls the creature had been wearing. She let the visions come.

The creature fantasizing about dragging her back to his rented cabin, slowly tearing her apart and eating all the soft parts, splitting open bones to get at the marrow. Later, after digestion, he’d go outside to test out his new psychometric ability…

Then… revenge. Killing Noah, his annoying hunter of so many years, before moving on to the next victim, reveling in the choices…

But first he’d go back to his cabin, get a chance to really recuperate, completely heal the wounds caused by Noah’s special knife…

She dropped the coveralls. “Oh, no…” she breathed, staring blankly out of the window, not seeing anything but her visions.

“What is it?”

Madeline turned to look at her friend, her eyes wide. “My friend Noah. He’s going to get himself killed.”

22

AS soon as the train screeched to a halt at the Whitefish station, Madeline looked out one of the windows. The police had arrived, and an announcement from the conductor told them that no one was allowed to leave the train until questions had been asked.

Madeline clenched her teeth. “Damn!”

The other passengers who wanted to get off at Whitefish groaned and complained, standing impatiently in the aisles. They obviously hadn’t heard yet about the disaster in the observation car.

“C’mon!” She grabbed George’s hand, and they darted to the opposite side of the train from the platform. Another set of tracks lay on that side. She pressed the emergency release button on a door on that side. The alarm was still jangling from before, so no new alarm went off to draw attention to them.

“Are you crazy?” George shouted.

“I don’t have a choice.” She grabbed him harshly around the wrist and dragged him out of the train, bounding over the tracks. Large pools of light illuminated the station on this side, and she quickly ran to the extent of the light and darted into the shadows. Dark shrubbery and trees swallowed them on that side of the station, and they ran on.

She listened carefully for signs of pursuit. She didn’t hear any police officers call out or hear anyone crashing through the bushes behind them. They reached a quiet, urban street, all the stores locked up for the night. She released her grip on George, who followed breathlessly, demanding to know where they were going. She shushed him rudely, not stopping to explain until they were several blocks from the station.

She turned down a shadowed, suburban street and stopped, waiting for him to catch up.

“I don’t think they followed us. It was pretty chaotic back there.”

“Okay,” he said panting, trying to catch his breath. “Now you explain?”

She nodded. “Okay. As best I can. And while I’m talking, we have to find a way back to your car.”

He brought his hand to his head. “I thought you’d decided on the bus?”

“No. The creature is headed back to his cabin. And my friend Noah is waiting for him there. I have to help him.” She gazed up and down the street, trying to spot the way to Highway 2, which led back into the park. “Let’s walk while we talk.” She picked up the pace to a jog, heading toward a gas station where she could get directions to the highway. “We’ll have to hitch,” she said.

They reached the gas station, and she went inside the snack store. A burly man sat behind the counter, eating a long piece of round jerky. “Can I help you, miss?” he asked, swallowing.

“Which way to Highway 2?”

He pointed out of the window. “It’s about seven blocks that way,” he said. “Just go straight. You can’t miss it.”

“Thanks,” she said and quickly left the store, George still following in bewilderment.

She spotted a pay phone and stopped. “I have to make a phone call. Got to know my dad is okay. I’ll be right back.” She walked to the phone and dialed his house. Her father answered on the second ring. When she heard his voice she paused, not knowing what to say. They hadn’t talked in over a year, she realized. Tempted to hang up, she remained gripping the phone. “Dad?” she said finally.

“Maddy?” he answered. “What’s wrong?”

A painful lump in her throat swelled up, and she forced a swallow. For a second she was four years old again, still his little girl. She longed to tell him what had happened, ask for his advice, his help. But instead she remained quiet. She hadn’t been his little girl for years now, not since the divorce. “Nothing,” she said at last. “Just wanted to see how you were.”

“You have one of your visions or something?” The coldness in his voice cut her.

“No, Daddy. Just hadn’t talked to you in a long time.”

“Yeah,” he answered simply, sounding distracted. She heard the TV in the background: football.

“So you’re okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He cursed at the home team, then went quiet.

“Well, I’ll let you go, then,” she said, her heart heavy.

“Okay,” he said, and hung up the receiver.

Madeline replaced the handset, and still holding on to it, burst into tears.

“Mad,” George said gently, walking over to her. He turned her around to face him, then took her in his arms. “I’m so sorry.”

“So am I, George.” She desperately missed the family she’d once belonged to. Sitting on the couch watching movies with her mom. Hiking with her dad. She’d become a pariah, even to them. Some nights, sitting alone in her tiny apartment, the grief was palpable. She had never felt so alone in her life than she did then, sitting on her worn couch, with only memories as companions.

She put her head on George’s chest, felt his hand stroking her hair. Her dad was fine. And she suspected Steve was okay, as well. “This must be pretty serious for you to call your dad. That can’t have been easy. You want to tell me what all has happened?”