Marysvale (13 page)

“
Good thing you weren’t slow
then.”

I agreed.

“
They didn’t use to be this
way,” she continued.

“
You mean they weren’t
always this aggressive?” I asked incredulously.

It was hard to believe from their
appearance that killing wasn’t their primary purpose.

“
No. When they first showed
up, they avoided humans and were very good at it.”

“
Then how did you see them?”
I asked, hoping it didn’t sound sarcastic.

“
Usually by accident. I
think sometimes they weren’t being cautious. If they didn’t see or
smell you, you had a small chance of seeing one.”

“
And what happened if you
did see them?”

“
If you did, it was only for
a moment before they turned and ran. As you saw for yourself, they
are very fast and nimble.”

“
Yes, I did notice that,” I
confessed, remembering the way they easily launched themselves over
and around obstacles. “Then what happened? Why did they
change?”

“
I don’t know for sure. I’ve
thought a lot about that over the years, but haven’t come up with
anything solid—except for some reason, they are organized now. For
the first few years they were solitary, you would never see more
than one. Then one day, it suddenly changed, and they became
aggressive. More people started to see them…and die. The lucky few
who survived, like you, told tales of coordination and even
suggested some planning before the attack. It’s very possible they
were stalking you, trying to learn more about the situation before
they made their move.”

“
Maybe, but they didn’t know
I was coming.”

“
No, they didn’t.
Nevertheless, I think one tried to take you there in that clearing
on your first night; but something spooked you and your horse, and
you fled. After the first failed attempt, they become a little more
cautious.”

I started to comprehend. “I see. Once
the predator is discovered, catching its intended prey becomes much
more difficult.”

“
Yes, because the hunted can
take measures to flee or even defend itself.”

“
As I did.”

“
Yes,” she agreed. “Humans
can be very dangerous prey.”

A fact that Mr. Martin had learned
too late,
I thought.
He lost his life going after his
intended quarry…me.

“
A few Brean have died in
failed attempts,” she continued.

“
Brean?”

“
That’s what we call them.
It comes from an old word meaning foul smelling and odious. Fitting
name, don’t you think?”

Remembering the stink in the forest,
before both encounters, I found the name most appropriate and told
her so.

I continued, “It’s hard to imagine that
they get killed often. The one I shot walked away, when just about
any other creature would have died.”

“
No, it doesn’t happen too
often; but who’s to say the one you shot won’t die? Perhaps its
wound will heal and maybe it won’t. If it doesn’t, you’ve sentenced
it to a slow and painful death—a lesson that won’t be lost on the
others.”

“
What do you think they’ll
do?”

“
It’s hard to say. One thing
is for sure…” she said, staring out into the trees with a concerned
look on her face.

“
What?” I pressed, when she
didn’t finish.

“
They are going to study
you.”

“
How do you
know?”

“
Because there’s one
watching us right now.”

I froze. Searching her face to confirm
she was serious, I slowly turned and scanned the woods; but I saw
nothing. I looked at Sarah again. Despite her calm voice, she was
tense. I tried following her gaze, but still couldn’t see anything.
Normally, I was the first to spot an oddity, and it somewhat
bruised my ego to finally have to admit, “I don’t see it. Where is
it?”

She pointed to a clump of trees a few
hundred yards away on the edge of the woods.

I tried again with no luck. Slightly
exasperated and embarrassed, I confessed, “I still can’t see
it.”

“
Don’t get too worked up
about it,” she said patiently. “I have a lot more experience with
them than you do. You’re concentrating too much on one area. You
have to contrast it with the surroundings. It’s like trying to tell
the difference between two shades of white. If you focus on one
without seeing the other, it’s hard to see the variation. To really
tell the difference, you have to hold them up to each other and
take them both in at the same time.”

Then her voice changed ever so slightly
and she added, “You have to
sense
them as much as see
them.”

I looked at her curiously; but she was
still fixed on the trees. So, without focusing on anything
specific, I visually took in as much of the forest as I could.
Immediately, I saw something different about one tree in
particular, but had a hard time telling what it was. I squinted,
yet it looked like all the others as far as I could see. Then, I
did something I hadn’t ever tried before. Normally, I read only one
soul at a time. I had never felt the need to perceive a whole group
of people, nor had I ever thought it possible. But now, I forced my
mind open and read the entire forest at once, as if it was one
living organism. What I saw left me speechless. A whole new world
opened up before me. I was amazed to see that every living thing
has its own aura, or color, and different levels of brightness. The
grass has one, the trees another; insects, birds, everything has
its own special, spiritual characteristic. Even the same species
differ from one another. I could see animals and insects buzzing
and moving around that I never would have seen with my natural
eyes. Even from this distance, the woods and fields teemed with
life that just a few moments prior had appeared empty. The one
exception was around the tree that had stood out before. Other than
the plants and trees swaying in the gentle breeze, there was no
other sign of existence. All animal life had either fled the area
or had stopped moving and remained as motionless as possible.
Perched high in the branches, obscured by the leaves, sat the
still, dark vortex of the Brean, just watching us. Goosebumps made
the hair on my arms and neck stand on end.

Exhaustion overcame me and the vision
began to close. It was hard enough work to open an individual soul,
but opening a whole forest was monumental—something I knew I
wouldn’t be able to keep up for long. It was akin to holding a
large barrel over your head; eventually, it would grow too heavy
and your physical limitations would force you to lower it. But it
didn’t matter. I knew what to look for now, and I could see it well
enough.

Sarah was looking at me curiously.
Suddenly self-conscious, I closed my gaping mouth. I must have
looked like an idiot with my jaw hanging open and looking all over
the place, but felt pleased to discover that at least I hadn’t
drooled.

“
Can you see it?” she
asked.

“
Uh…yes. Yes, I think I
can,” I stammered, trying to recover.

Her gaze returned to the
woods.

“
How long has it been
there?” I asked.

“
Not long.”

“
Did you see it
come?”

“
No, but I know it wasn’t
there when we first came out.”

“
Are we safe? Do we need to
arm ourselves?”

“
I don’t think we’re ever
fully safe with one of those creatures around. Even so, I don’t
think we are in any immediate danger. However, if it will make you
feel better, you may get a weapon.”

It would make me feel better; but I
stayed put since she wasn’t moving and I didn’t want to look like a
ninny.

“
I guess I’ll trust you,” I
mumbled.

She smiled, which I thought strange in
light of the circumstance.

“
Have you been attacked?” I
asked suddenly. I wondered why I hadn’t thought of asking
before.

She hesitated before answering,
“Yes.”

“
Well?” I asked
expectantly.

“
Well, what?”

“
Are you going to tell me
what happened? You say how hard it is for men to tell particulars,
but it’s near impossible getting information out of you.”
Especially since I can’t read your soul,
I
thought.

“
You can always get
information out of me; the question is whether or not it’s the
information you seek.”

I sighed, “See? You’re very good at not
answering questions.”

“
There really isn’t much to
tell…”

“
Go on,” I
prodded.

“
If you insist,” she said a
little sadly.

“
I do.”

“
Very well, but it was a
long time ago. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t dwell too much
on the details.”

She glanced up and saw that the irony
of her disclaimer hadn’t been lost on me.

She continued, “I’d grown accustomed to
seeing a Brean now and then; not very often mind you, maybe once
every few months. At first they terrified me, but then I grew used
to them—well, as much as one could, I suppose. All the same, I got
into the habit of taking my dogs with me wherever I went. Better to
be safe, you know. Most animals usually leave you alone, but there
is that chance they might change their mind.

“
I lived in this state with
them for several years. Then, one year, in early spring, everything
changed. There were a few farms in this country at that time, some
not too far away from here. One day, while traveling back from
Marysvale, I heard screaming, and I ran toward it. I didn’t really
think much of it at first; I thought that somebody was hurt and
needed help. However, the nearer I got, I could tell something was
very wrong. The cries were all different—filled with terror. At the
same time, horrible growls and roars, sounds I had never heard
before, filled the forest. Drawing closer, I saw the Whiting’s
cabin on fire, surrounded by four of the monsters.”

It was the first time I had heard Sarah
call them monsters.

“
Joshua, the father, ran out
to fight…they tore him to pieces.” Her eyes moistened up. “His
screams, and that of his family watching, wrenched the air. My dogs
went crazy. That’s when they noticed me. One of the creatures
pursued me, and I ran. My dogs tried to defend me.”

She swallowed, and then continued in a
shaky voice, “The fighting was terrible. As I fled, I heard
bellowing roars, howls of pain, and the sound of tearing flesh. It
all ended with a yelp; and I knew it wouldn’t be long before I was
caught. I’m still surprised that I wasn’t. My lungs and legs
burned, and I wondered if it was pointless to try to escape. I was
nearing steep cliffs, with nowhere else to run. Nevertheless, the
snarls from the Brean, and remembering the sight and sounds of that
poor man, kept me going. In desperation, and the knowledge that any
death would be better than at the hands of a monster, I did the
only thing I could think of: I ran to the edge of the cliff and
threw myself off.”

She paused, reliving the experience in
her mind; and I contemplated what I would have done in her
situation.

After a long moment, she continued, “It
was very high, and I felt like I’d never hit the ground…. I guess I
really didn’t. The impact of the lake water on my body was
incredibly hard; at first I thought I’d broken something. The cold
from the spring runoff was so intense that it sucked the life and
movement right out of me. I started to sink, but I told myself,
‘Just one kick’…then another…and another, until I made it to the
surface. The Brean was still at the top of the cliff, glaring at
me. I thought it was going to jump in, but it didn’t. However, it
did follow me from the cliff top. With no other alternative in
sight, I swam for the opposite shore. I expected to drown. Finally,
nearly frozen to death, I drug myself out on the other
side.

“
After a very cold night, I
made my way back to the farms. In all, only three others survived:
Michael Wolfe and his two young daughters. They were also coming
back from Marysvale at the time of the attacks. I found their
mother in a field. All the rest of our neighbors were
slaughtered….I buried most of them myself.”

Tears flowed down her cheeks and her
hands shook slightly. I felt awful and guilty for badgering her to
reveal the story, and wished I could take it back.

“
I’m very sorry. I…I didn’t
think it would have been so terrible. I shouldn’t have pushed
you.”

“
Don’t feel bad. Still, you
need to know what they are capable of, now that you’re in their
country.”

Suddenly, without warning, I felt my
face flush, as an inexplicable anger flared to the surface. It
wasn’t directed at Sarah, but her story had triggered something
deep inside me. I wanted to grab all the weapons I could and blast
that thing out of the tree.

Sarah studied my face for a moment and
then said, “I know what you want to do, John. I’ve wanted to do the
same thing; but now isn’t the time.”