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- Author: Peter David
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She also kept running through her mind her encounter with David Banner. She couldn’t help but feel that she had experienced a narrow escape, but not quite. That was to say, she hadn’t quite escaped. But even she couldn’t quite wrap herself around the notion that there was something she was overlooking, some bit of business that could come back to bite her.
Betty tried to come up with some definitive plan of action, but her thoughts were simply too scattered, too unfocused. Before too long, the mesmerizing effect of the fire tired her eyes, and she settled into a deep sleep.
It wasn’t the noise that woke her some time later.
It was the lack of noise.
She didn’t realize it at first. All Betty knew when she awoke with a start was that something was wrong. The fire had burned down, but there was still some light filtering through the window from the full moon. Light, warmth, a secure place . . . everything was as it should be, but something was still off.
That was when it occurred to her. There were no noises coming from the forest at all.
At all.
At. All.
Everything, every small creature trying to avoid being eaten, every predator rummaging for prey, everything that walked or flew or crawled through the underbrush had ceased making the slightest sound. It was as if they had all fled the area, or else had become completely quiet, withdrawing into themselves so as not to attract the attention of . . .
. . . of what?
Then she heard a noise, and felt relief for a brief second because it seemed to indicate that everything was normal after all. The noise, however, was a rustling that sounded as if it was being produced by something—bigger—than was normally the case. As big as a bear, or perhaps still larger.
Other than that rustling, she couldn’t hear a thing.
Betty thought about every horror movie she’d ever seen, where the idiot heroine mindlessly thrusts herself into the midst of danger by walking guilelessly toward it, waving a flashlight. Growing up, she’d seen such films and shook her head at the stupidity. “Idiot plots,” she had muttered while her friends watched, enraptured.
So she was vaguely surprised to find herself scrounging for a flashlight, gripping it firmly, shoving her car keys into her pocket, flipping on the outside lights, and stepping away from the cabin to try to discern what was approaching. On the surface of it, her actions were utterly mad. But she couldn’t really just stay cowering in the cabin; if there was, indeed, some sort of extremely large animal out there, it could easily be able to smash through the windows and corner her within. In her car, at least, she would be mobile.
That would also be the case if the animal were an extremely dangerous type—such as a human being. So after running all the options through her mind, she was forced to conclude that the action she was now taking—as demented as it might seem—was the best one available to her.
Nothing leapt upon her as she emerged from the cabin, playing the beam of the flash across the woods. Perhaps it was indeed just some dumb animal, frightened by the brightness of the beam. Nevertheless, just to give herself an out, she made her way toward the car, consistently turning 360 degrees as she did so, in order to see as much around her as she possibly could. When she made it to the car, she put her back against it and studied the dark forest edge and the black dense water of the lake, both of which lay in front of her.
“Hello?” Betty called softly.
She paused, listened. The wind whispered gently, and other than that there was no sound at all, not even the rustling she’d heard earlier. The pale beam of the flashlight slowly arced across the trunks of the massive redwood trees that surrounded the cabin. Still nothing.
Betty began to laugh softly to herself. Here she was, getting ready to jump into her car and speed away lest she be harmed by nothing at all.
She began to walk back inside but then stopped and turned. She’d caught something out of the corner of her eye just as the flashlight was making a final pass over the trees. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it was something that wasn’t quite right. Not when compared to the trees around it.
She frowned, keeping the beam steady. “What the hell . . . ?” she murmured, and took several steps forward.
There were two broad-trunked redwoods, but there was something else—a bizarre tree or vegetation—in between them. It was as massive as the trees themselves, but the surface was smooth rather than rough, like bark. And it was the most curious shade of green, and it . . .
It breathed.
It . . . was alive.
Impossible. Get in the car, run. Impossible.
Her feet, however, refused to move. She was literally rooted to the spot. Her arm, however, was still functioning, and slowly she angled the beam, moving it up and over what Betty was beginning to realize, to her horror, was the chest of a living, breathing creature. Up went the beam, over pectorals the size of children and arms the size of cannons. Up toward what would be the face, but at that point Betty had no idea what to expect. If the beam had revealed a creature laughing dementedly while waving a flaming pumpkin head, she likely would have taken it in stride.
The face of the green-skinned individual was lost in shadow. She could, however, see the general outline of the creature, and more than that she saw the beam reflected in the glowing green eyes. Those eyes narrowed in suspicion and mild confusion. It stared at her in a
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