Chapter 11
It recognized the girl, and so had followed her, trying to remember where from. It could not make the memory come though, only an implacable fear, like an itch on the back it couldn’t quite reach. It remembered blood, blood on the stick, but that was all. The girl made it uneasy, so it stayed away, and when she had seen it crouched in the trees, watching her, it ran.
It waited for dark to come out again. In the dark no one would see it unless it wanted them to. It was comfortable in the dark.
It moved through the brush edging the dry creek with the wild grace of a cat, its eyes always toward the houses on the other side, where the people lived. It remembered the other side of the creek like another life, the other side of a strange veil. It didn’t want to go back there
