The smile faded from his lips, but a firm nod let me know he agreed. "A strong leader gains knowledge from the outside world," he murmured under his breath. More words of wisdom. By now, I had heard everything.
Despite his outside courage, I could sense the worry in his voice, and I saw his eyes grow tired. Although I wanted to leave home more than anyone in the world, I wouldn't allow myself. For him. For my mother.
I wouldn't search for the exit of this forest and the bright lights of the city. My father was right to be cautious. The world was changing into something we couldn't understand. If love was going to find me, it would have to come into the vast depths of these woods. A future family would just have to wait.
I offered him my hand, and he struggled to lift himself up. "My bones ache, but I still have the fire in me. Don't you worry," he said.
"I'm not worrying," I said. "Everything is going to be okay because I've been taught by the best."
"We are survivors," he said, standing tall. "Say it with me, Critter."
We are survivors.
My father was my hero. He was the only person willing to do what it took to keep the family thread alive. The endpoint was coming—and when it arrived, we wouldn't be one of the people shocked by the news. We would be ready. I couldn't fully understand our predicament, but I would stand by his side until the end. Family never died.
We followed the tracks until we were led to a small opening of trees. "Look," I whispered. "The tracks are gone."
Indeed, as we walked into the clearing, the tracks seemed to disappear. I looked up at the trees and tried to find signs of what happened, but there were no clues. The tracks just… ran out.
My father gritted his teeth. "Lilly, stay alert. Something isn't right."
"Got it."
Slowly, I walked through the opening of the forest, using all of my senses to come to a conclusion. Near to us was the line I was told not to cross. The Great Divide, as Dad called it. Who or what lived across that line, I had no idea. All he told me was that it was off-limits.
That I’d die if I crossed the line.
I stood, biting the inside of my cheek. A curiosity overtook me. I was going to break the rules. I was going to walk right over it.
As I started to move in that direction, I could hear something in the distance. It was the sound of a carnivore, the ripping of flesh through sharp and penetrating teeth, and the disgusting noises of hurried swallowing.
The hairs on my neck immediately rose, but I couldn't let myself fall into terror. Anything that lived in this forest could be felled by my rifle.
I closed my e
yes and repeated my father's age-old mantra: "Fear is the catalyst for taking control of your life."
As much as I tried to live by those words, I couldn't stop the sounds of the beast from growing around me. The more forest I crossed, the louder the noises became, until suddenly, a great roar rang out across the land.
I stopped. "Oh, shit."
In my peripheral vision, I could see my father reach out to me. "Lilly," he whispered. "We have to go home. Now. Okay, kid?"
But my curiosity had already taken precedence. The roar was unlike anything I had ever heard before. It was powerful like a freight train, but it was also strained, like that of an imprisoned or tortured soul.
Was it calling out to someone?
Was it was calling out to me?
I ran.
I ran as fast as I could. I moved, bearing the hunting rifle in hand. Up the secondary hill, past the divide of open forest, and into the thick and sinister depth of the other side.
I could hear my dad screaming for me, calling out my name, but nothing could stop me short of the apocalypse. I was twenty-three. I wasn't that little girl anymore.
Whatever the beast was, I was going to catch it and put it on our dinner table. I had found something unique.
As I ran, I came across a new set of tracks. This time, they didn't look like they came from any animal. At least, they weren't from a deer, elk, or bear. They came from a giant pair of feet, strangely anthropoid in nature but far bigger.