Into the Hollow - Page 39/43

Well, I couldn’t find Dex if I was dead, so leaving the scene of the bloody crime would be the first step. I searched the terrain around me for some way down, then when I spotted an area where the descent wasn’t as steep, I went for it.

I was trying to be careful more than anything, but when I heard some rocks scattering from somewhere above my head, I threw caution to the wind and just started scrambling down. It was easier now that I didn’t have a backpack – I guess it had fallen off during the tumble – and that burst of adrenaline was keeping the pain at bay. The rocks may have scattered on their own, or it was the mark of the beast, searching for me, but I wasn’t going to stand around and wait to find out.

When the ground finally became flat again and it looked like I was on another plateau, that’s when I started giving it all I had. I ran as fast as my legs could take me, and now that I was away from the cliff face and couldn’t see the river, I could only head in the direction I thought the river would be.

I was running so fast, so blindly, that I almost missed it.

The shotgun. It was lying on the ground, looking like it was discarded in a hurry. I came to a skidding halt and then quickly scooped it up in my hands. This wasn’t the shotgun that Dex and I had taken from Mitch. This was another gun all together. I closed my eyes and quickly racked my brains for an explanation. Could Mitch have had another gun that we didn’t know about? Judging from the size of the pack he had on his llama and the fact that he was a psycho, potential-rapist and NRA-worshipping bastard, I decided that it was very likely. And now, the gun was with me and he was dead. For all his spewing about being a hunter, he was the one who got hunted in the end.

And I was next.

Knowing time was of the essence, I flipped open the action and checked to see if it was still loaded. I could only see the shine of one shell in there. Good, but I hoped there were more because when it came down to it, I would need as many chances with this thing as I could get. Hand guns I could do. I had no fucking clue how to wield this weapon.

I shut it and flicked on the safety catch. I got a good grip of the gun in my hand, ignoring the weight of it, and started running again.

After a few yards of rock and a few boulders to leap over, the slope was starting to run into the forest again and the roar of the river filled my ears. I tried to look around me for Dex, to see where he could have gone, but I didn’t see anything. I kept going until I met the first tree trunk, then I pulled myself around it, concealing my body, and took in my first gulp of proper air. My heart was racing loudly, filling my temples with pressure and sound.

Slowly, very slowly, I poked my head out around the tree. The mountain rose up in front of me and from down where I was, I was amazed that I had run – and fallen – my way down it. It was imposing and massive and I scanned it from top to bottom, side to side, looking for anything that moved. I didn’t see anything except putty-colored rock and ivory snow. No creature. No Dex.

I tucked my head back and leaned it against the trunk, closing my eyes, mind racing. What was I going to do? I had to get to the river, I had to get somewhere safe, but I needed to find Dex. If I couldn’t find him, there was no point to any of this. There was no drive to stay alive. There was nothing.

DEX! I yelled inside my head, hoping he could hear me. Dex, please hear me! Dex I need to know you’re all right. I need you to find me!

My head ached from the throbbing of yelling internally but I kept going. I’m at the base of the mountain where the forest begins. I have a shotgun. Mitch is dead. Please, please come find me. Please be OK!

Hot tears began to flow down my cheeks and I started shaking from the uncertainty. I tightened my grip on the shotgun and tried again. Dex! Please find me! I can’t find you. You need to get to me, I need to know you’re OK! I’m going to stick around the trees, look for me in the trees! Look for me!

I sniffed back my runny nose and cursed the gift the Thin Veil had given me. It had to be such a one-way street. I wanted to hear him, more than anything I wanted to hear him.

My breath slowly came under control and I poked my head around the tree again. Still there was nothing unusual marring the side of the mountains. It only made me edgier. How long was I going to have to wait in the forest, wait for Dex who might never show up? I was going to go stir crazy, unable to do anything but yell inside my head until I felt my eyeballs pop.

An idea suddenly slammed into me. It was probably a stupid idea, but it was better than nothing.

I had a shotgun. My voice could only carry so far, whether I was screaming in my head or outside of it. A shotgun blast could be heard for miles. Yes, there was a chance that the creature would come after me if it realized I was out here but at the same time, maybe the sound of the gun would scare it off or at least keep it away from me. Dex, though, if he was alive, and I had no choice but to assume he was, he would hear it. He would know I was alive and hopefully he’d be able to pinpoint where I was.

The only problem with this idea was that I’d be losing a shell and if it happened to be the last shell, I was totally screwing myself over.

Unfortunately, I didn’t really have a choice here. I could save the shells for when I might need them, or I could use it now and hope there was another one in there. This was a need for now. There was no telling what would happen later.

I stepped out from behind the tree and walked a few feet into the open. I leaned back on my leg, keeping my center of gravity low, my arms steady and strong and I put the gun on my shoulder, adjusting its position until I felt secure. I aimed it up high so there was no chance of me accidently shooting someone.

Taking in a deep breath, I thought about what I knew about shotgun recoil, the “kick” it left. Somewhere along the lines of my training, when I was just practicing at the range, I remembered hearing some 10% formula about shotguns. It was either the 10% lighter the gun was, the 10% more of a kick it had. Or it was the other way around. I couldn’t remember, I just had to be very ready for that burst when it came, even though it made me extremely nervous. The gun was powerful and I was a tiny woman.

I took a breath and flicked the safety off.

Here goes nothing, I thought.

I pulled the trigger.

The explosion drove me back into the ground with one sharp, quick motion, like I was a tent peg getting hammered. My ears rang with the reverberations of the shot and when I opened my eyes, tiny white and black dots were dancing around my vision. My heart felt like it was on fire, squeezing in my chest from the shock.

But though I was knocked back on my ass, the gun was still in my hands and the shell had gone somewhere. The noise was made and from the way it echoed over and over again, bouncing back from the mountains, I knew that if someone was around to hear it, they’d definitely hear it.

“Fuck me,” I muttered out loud, getting to my feet. I had no idea why people even used shotguns if you had to contend with that pummeling every time you shot one.

It also made me wonder if I could even get a straight shot at something if I had to protect myself. Probably not.

I flipped open the action and with a wary breath, peeked inside. I could see a golden gleam in one of the barrels. I exhaled in relief, knowing I had at least one more shot. I wished I could make it count.

“OK, Dex,” I whispered. “Come find me.”

I gripped the gun and walked back to the trees. I felt like I was in a limbo of some sort, not wanting to stray too far away from where I shot the gun, but feeling exposed and vulnerable out in the open.

I paced back and forth under the shelter of the forest, my eyes darted around me. I walked and waited, like a soldier on patrol. My ears were open and listening, my attention was focused and I kept at it until my feet began to ache, my bones began to hurt, and the sun left the highest part of the sky, beginning its gradual descent into twilight.

We had maybe two hours until it got dark, at the very least.

We. It sounded funny now that I was alone. I was trying very hard not to think about the alternative, if Dex never came. He had to be out there, he had to be. As silly as it sounds, I could almost feel his energy. If something had happened to him….if he had been killed…I just knew that I would know it. I’d feel some horrible separation from this world, like I one day found myself without a leg or lung. I’d feel like something was missing, something I needed desperately to survive.

I stopped pacing and sat down on the ground. There was no snow under the trees but the earth was cold, hard and littered with dying pine needles and dried-out cones. I placed the shotgun beside me and hugged my knees tightly. If I ever made it out of here, I was never going into the mountains again. I could add that to the list, which included secluded leper islands and isolated towns in New Mexico. Experiment in Terror sure ruined a lot of vacation spots for me.

My eyes were drooping shut, my chin dipping to my knees. Maybe I could just rest here. Just for a few minutes. Maybe when I woke up, everything would be OK. Maybe I wouldn’t be in this God awful forest.

I must have fallen asleep for a few minutes, because I suddenly jerked my head up, aware of something my conscious mind was quickly trying to process. I was still in the God awful forest, but something had woken me up.

But what was it?

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

I warily got to my feet, quietly, afraid to make a sound. I listened hard, frowning at the mountain. In the distance the river roared, always making its presence known, but I thought I heard something else. A low rumble.

I searched the crags and undulating ridges of the bedrock, the plateaus and cliffs. I couldn’t see anything. What was it?

The rumble got louder. It wasn’t constant and it dipped in and out in its level and frequency, scattered and all over the place.

I picked up the shot gun and slowly stepped forward out of the cover of trees. There was something coming for me, I felt it. I heard it.

I saw it.

Up ahead, not too far up, a black figure darted out of a mound of boulders, legs pumping fast.

“Dex!” I screamed. It was a happy scream. It was Dex, I could see it as he got closer, seemingly uninjured. My heart felt like it was going to explode.

I started running toward him, waving my hand in the air.

“Perry!” he yelled back once he spotted me. He didn’t stop coming. “Perry, run!”

“What?” I said absently, watching him come closer and closer, his speed picking up as the slope grew flatter.

“Run!” he yelled again. He looked over his shoulder and my eyes followed.

Another dark figure came to the top of the boulders he had emerged from. It sat on the top of the rocks like an ape, surveying the scene below with a few quick twists of its ugly head, then leaped off into the air with surprising grace, hitting the ground with a thud, rocks and dirt flying everywhere. It gathered itself with ease, then started bounding down the mountain on all fours, coming right for Dex.

Coming right for me

Oh fuck.

“Run, God damn it!” Dex yelled again, the panic and exhaustion tearing out of his mouth. He was less than a hundred meters away and I could clearly see the anguish in his face, his eyes imploring me to start moving.

But I couldn’t. Because unlike before, that beast was now running on all fours, its back legs propelling it forward with quick, wide strides that covered a lot of ground. We didn’t have a chance in hell of outrunning it.