“Mommy?”
“Mom, are you out here?”
“Where are you?”
They took turns yelling but heard no response. The further they walked into the woods the less Dane could see the fire’s glow.
As he searched the shadows for his mother, he became disoriented and his sense of direction grew less trustworthy. “Okay, on the count of three. Ready? One, two, three…Mom!”
They paused, listening for any sound in the distance. Dane shut his eyes to focus on his hearing and fear tickled up his spine.
He reached for Cybil’s small hand, a protective gesture as much as a comforting one. She had stopped chattering, which meant she was more than anxious. She was scared. The darker her thoughts became, the harder she was to read.
They hiked over dead leaves and knotted tree roots as the brush thickened and the forest grew dense. When Cybil lost her footing in a dip on the nonexistent path, he steadied her. The woods silenced, their breathing the only whisper of sound.
Something was off. Where was the hum of insects and the skitters of night critters? Usually, there was the rattle of cicadas and the chortle of owls. He heard nothing but their panting.
“Something’s out there.” He squinted into the inky shadows. “Maybe a bear.” Only a predator would scare away all the smaller creatures.
Cybil’s breath hitched. “Let’s go back.” She jerked her hand out of his and turned, but he grabbed the back of her sweatshirt.
“Don’t! You never run from a predator.”
“You’re scaring me, Dane. I wanna go back to the site. Mommy’s probably looking for us.”
He dropped his voice to a whisper. “If something’s out there and you run, it might chase us. We have to be quiet. Stay by my side.”
He circled slowly, straining to see into every shadow. The hair on the back of his neck spiked as a gust of wind raced past their backs and he pivoted.
Nothing. But he swore he heard something. It was too fast to be a bear. Did Pennsylvania have cougars?
Another gust of wind funneled through the trees and something sped behind them. He spun around. This time he saw the ruffle of pine needle branches and the up-kick of dried leaves twirling off the ground. Whatever it was, it was taunting them.
“What is it? And do not say a bear.” Cybil’s hand clamped tight around his.
“That was too fast for a bear. It was probably just a cat or a fox or something.”
It sounded too large to be a fox. “I want Mommy,” Cybil whimpered.
He sniffed the air and his nose scrunched at the putrid stench. “Do you smell that?”
She barely sniffed. “No. I think we should walk back.”
The rotting scent filled his lungs. “Whatever is out there, it stinks.”
“All I smell is the fire.” She tugged out of his grip and started walking back the way they came.
“Hey, I said stay by my side.”
“I wanna go back, Dane.”
Sleeping birds scattered from the trees above, and they both looked up with wide eyes. Cybil whimpered, standing stock-still, and Dane’s heart dropped to the pit of his stomach. Whatever it was stood behind her, its glowing eyes cutting through the darkness as a low growl rumbled.
“Cybil, don’t move.”
A cloud of silver mist puffed behind her. It was tall—twice her height.
“Cybil—”
What is it? A thousand splinters of fear shot through Dane’s heart.
“Don’t look at it,” the words left him in a silent whisper. His sister spun, her mouth opening in a soundless cry as she staggered back, stumbling into Dane’s arms and belting out a blood-curdling scream.
The creature bellowed and bolted toward the trees.
Panicking, Dane let out a scream of his own. “Let’s go!”
“It touched me!” She scurried into Dane’s arms, climbing up his body. “What was it?”
It all happened so fast. Dane trembled with the urge to protect her, desperate to run but fearful of the creature. A sharp snarl, like a bobcat, ripped through the air, and they both silenced and stilled as it returned.
Eyes, unnatural, red-glowing eyes, watched them from only a few feet away. Dane’s heart hammered against his ribs.
“What do we do?”
It was no animal. It was a man, but also not a man. Standing slightly hunched, the beast had matted hair, knotted and tangled with leaves and twigs.
Mud caked onto his bare flesh, and his naked body twisted with thickly corded sinew. It was unnatural. Fangs dripped with drool as the moonlight caught the sharp angles of its face. Definitely male, and it stared directly at Cybil as it stepped closer.
In one second, Dane sucked in a hundred useless breaths. The beast held something limp and lifeless in his arms. His heart plummeted as he recognized his mother’s hair.
Cybil’s scream cut through the night with enough force to pierce the moon. The animal dropped their mother’s limp body onto the earth and sprung twenty feet into the trees.