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“I think you’d better change into your hiking boots,” he said.

“But they’re wet and-”

“All the same,” he insisted, never taking his eyes off the jumble of logs. “I think you’d better put them on. I think we need to leave.”

She studied his face, bewildered. He was alert, nervous.

She looked around. Her boots lay on the other side of the chair. Beyond lay the alpine meadow, the wildflowers now lost in the darkness. “We can’t hike down now in the dark.”

“We’ll have to. There!” he said, so suddenly that Madeline started, causing her heart to pound.

And she saw it.

The dark, hunkering shape crept through there again, darting in and out of the logs, furtive and quick, weaving closer and closer to them. She could see now it didn’t have wet fur at all, but oily black skin which glistened in the brightening moonlight. The animal was lithe and muscled, moving efficiently, though she still couldn’t see enough of it to tell what it was.

“Quick,” Noah urged her, placing an insistent hand on her shoulder.

Madeline shucked off the sandals and pulled on her wet boots, knowing they’d soak through the dry socks in a matter of seconds. Quickly she tightened the laces.

With her boots on, she turned her eyes back to the logs. The creature had stopped, and Madeline felt eyes burning into her. And then she watched as it put a paw on one of the logs. It was dark against the white of the wood, distinct in the gleaming moonlight.

And Madeline saw immediately that it wasn’t a paw at all, but a hand. A hand as black as charcoal, with impossibly hooked claws that bit into the wood.

“He’s got the advantage,” Noah said grimly.

“He?” Madeline asked with bewilderment. “He?”

Noah didn’t seem to hear her. “I can’t fight him like this. I can’t endanger you. If I could find someplace for you to hide…”

“Fight him-What’s going on? What is that thing?”

He turned to her then, his eyes full of fear. “I’ll explain on the way down the mountain. But right now, we’ve got to get you somewhere safe. C’mon!” He stood up and gestured for her to follow. “There’s an abandoned skiers’ hut just over that rise.” He pointed to a cluster of trees on a hill. “It’s not the greatest, but we’d be more protected than we are now. Okay?”

Madeline nodded, feeling bewildered.

Moving to his pack quickly, he threw everything inside haphazardly and zipped it up, leaving the tent standing some distance away. He grabbed the chair with one hand as he slung the pack over his shoulder. “Let’s go,” he said, and she caught a glimpse of his eyes in the moonlight, haunted and terrified.

4

THEY ran down the mountain in near dark, trying to leave the animal behind. Exhaustion seized Madeline, and she knew she couldn’t run for very long. Her wet boots felt as heavy as small European countries.

She followed Noah closely, the pack slapping violently against his back as he struggled to strap it down. For a moment she didn’t think she could keep up, felt her breath failing her, lungs laboring too fiercely as they tore across the lily-strewn meadow. Behind her the furtive rustle of grass told of the thing’s presence close behind.

Then, much to her relief, the old, falling-down ski hut came into view, nestled amid some trees. As they drew closer, Madeline could see that most of the windows were broken, and that one side of the roof had fallen to ruin. The door hung on one rusted hinge. As soon as they reached it, Noah shoved the door open and nodded for her to go inside. She slipped by him, her eyes adjusting to the thicker darkness inside. It was cold and dank, a chill that felt decades old. Instantly a musty smell greeted her, and she wrinkled her nose, holding back a sneeze.

Noah followed her in and, pushing harshly on the handle, convinced the groaning, rusted door to close. Madeline tried to make things out in the gloom. The windows were broken but too small for the creature to fit through. Obviously the place had been built to last under the pressure of many feet of snow, but now it was in ruin, and she wondered how strong and determined the animal was. Madeline thought with those claws it could tear right through the rotten part of the roof.

Beneath her feet lay a soft bed of wet, windblown pine needles and dirt. The chill sank into her bones, and she began to shiver, trying to keep her teeth from chattering.

Noah walked to her and tried to warm her by rubbing her arms. After a moment of looking at her gravely, he said, “I’m going to lead him away from you. You’re in no condition for a long jog down the mountain. I’ll be back.” Quickly, he shrugged off his pack and put it at her feet. “It’s only a matter of time before he finds us in here. Maybe I can make him think we went a different direction.”

Before she could think of what to say, he wrenched open the rickety door, disappeared through it, and closed it after him.

And then Madeline was alone, standing in the center of the cold building, the wind whistling through the shattered windows. She was freezing. For a long moment she stood stiffly, listening until her head ached with tension, too afraid to move, wondering when Noah would be back, and if he was okay.

An image of the clawed hand on the log flashed in her mind, and Madeline moved toward one wall of the old hut so that her back wasn’t exposed. She longed to move around, to get her blood flowing, but she couldn’t risk the noise. She stuck her tongue between her chattering teeth to muffle the sound.

She waited silently, hugging herself.

And then she heard tree branches cracking outside. From where she was standing, she couldn’t see what might be out there and was afraid to look out anyway. She waited a moment longer.

The rustling drew closer. If it was Noah, he would probably say something to let her know it was him. Now the branches moved just outside the nearest window. Madeline braced herself to fight.

The door moved in the frame, and Noah appeared, replacing the door behind himself. It groaned on its single hinge. Instantly he saw her fighting posture and held his hands up to show her he meant no harm. “Didn’t mean to startle you.” Then he came toward her. “He’s following us, all right. But I think I managed to lead him away. He won’t stay confused for long, though. We should move now. My fleece looks good on you. Warm?”

He said the last bit in the same urgent tone of voice, and it took her a second to register the question.

“Yes, thanks,” she lied, eager to be on the move. “What are we going to do?”

“I’m not sure. Going to think of something now.”

The chill sank into Madeline’s brain. She couldn’t think of anything, her mind muddled. Hypothermia.

“You’ve get to get down the mountain. There’s a backcountry ranger station not far from here.” Picking the pack up from the ground he said, “Turn around.” She did so. “Just about everything you’ll need is in this pack… food, water… the map.” He slid it on her shoulders and turned her back around.

“But-”

“Don’t argue with me.” Working quickly, he buckled the straps at her hips and chest. “You’ve got to move fast. Don’t stop, no matter what you hear. Just keep moving. Agreed?”

Madeline didn’t know what to say. She didn’t even have time to think or begin to sort out what was happening.

“Agreed?” he repeated urgently.

Finally, Madeline nodded.

“Good. I’m going out there again. As soon as I’m out of sight, I want you to run as fast as you can. The trail is not far from here. Angle northwest. We’re only about a hundred yards-”

The sudden cacophony of splintering wood cut him off. In an instant the door splintered to nothing, and a dark figure filled the frame, a flash of teeth in utter blackness.