Steadman's Blind

CHAPTER 7

CHAPTER 7

Maddie Swenson stepped with care, moving between the trunks of towering conifers, keeping to the soft carpet of moldering leaves and pine needles. The late September sunshine fell in slices across the forest floor, diffused and softened by the lofty firs, oaks, and alders, its touch feather-soft against her cheek. She divided her attention between tracking her target and watching the ground for the dried, curling leaves and brittle sticks that would give her away if she stepped on them.

The brown squirrel froze, its ears perked, bushy tail poised like a plume of pampas grass above its head. Its nervous chitter, half question, half scold, rose on the crisp, pine-scented breeze. Maddie nocked an arrow, steadying her hands and drawing back the bow. She released, imagining a mighty thwang as the arrow launched and she watched it curve through the air, honing in on the target.

The squirrel scurried away, spiraling up the trunk of a Douglas Fir and disappearing into the bunched needles at the top. The arrow bounced and skidded along the ground, coming to rest against a moss-encrusted tree stump. Maddie sighed and went to collect it, regarding the blunt-nosed tip with disgust. She’d never be able to nail a target with this babyish bow and arrow, but her parents wouldn’t let her shoot a real bow until she was twelve—ten whole months away!

She yearned to survive in the wild, to hunt and forage for food, to build a simple shelter, and defend herself against predators and other hazards. Building a fire from what she could scavenge, finding enough wild berries to bake a pie—these are things she’d done multiple times. She was tough and strong, quick and smart, moving through the forest with confidence and verve, another Katniss Everdeen, warrior queen of the wood.

She’d read all the Hunger Games books, and The Knife of Never Letting Go. On a rainy day last summer, she’d found some old books in a box at the back of her mother’s closet, and buried herself in My Side of The Mountain and The Sign of The Beaver. She read plenty of non-fiction, too. Every book she could find about people surviving in harsh environments against terrible odds. The subject fascinated her.

Maddie gauged the slant of the sun through the leafy boughs and turned north, working her way along the ridge to the brook that flowed down into the Case Inlet. The faux-leather quiver full of light-weight arrows flapped against her shoulder blade in a way no genuine quiver full of arrows would do. Shrugging with contempt, she picked her way down the rocky embankment to scoop a handful of cold water from the stream.

She was at least two miles beyond the house now, maybe three. Up ridge, to the south and west, lay unfamiliar territory. Maddie wasn’t supposed to go out that far, but the Saturday afternoon beckoned. Homework could wait. She’d been putting off the sixth grade math assignment all weekend, reasoning that she could do it after dark. The afternoons were getting shorter now that another school year had begun and daylight was precious. She’d stay out just a little longer, though she knew she’d be in big trouble if she wasn’t home by sundown.

Turning, she started downhill, slipping on the thick pile of dead pine needles. Her feet flew out from beneath her and she hit the ground on her back, cushioned by fallen leaves and soft soil. Giggling a little, imagining what she must have looked like and wishing she could have seen herself make that ungraceful descent, she stared into the interlacing branches overhead.

Oh, how she loved the forest! The other girls in her class spent their free time on X-Box and nail polish but to Maddie, those things seemed so trivial. This was real. This mattered. The dirt beneath her and the sway of the trees, the buzzing and humming and twittering of wildlife. She could still hear the music of the brook as it spilled over the rocks on its way to the inlet.

As she strained her ears, she heard another sound, a stealthy rustle. Raising up on her elbows, she looked behind her where the shadows under the pines seemed to shift in the dimming light. Her skin prickled. Something had moved there, she was certain. Pulling herself to a standing position, she surveyed her surroundings and saw nothing to alarm her, but the woods now seemed brushed by a shade of gloom.

Sweeping the clinging needles from the seat of her pants, she started homeward, keeping her eyes and ears on the alert. Bears and cougars were often sighted in the area and though they rarely attacked humans, she was small enough that a hungry predator might think her a juicy target. She picked up her pace, now suddenly anxious to get home, remembering how abruptly darkness falls in the forest where the trees block the sun.

She heard it again, that furtive whisper of sound, and froze, listening hard. Something stalked her, moving in the shadows behind and to her left. She felt the uselessness of her childish bow once again, wishing for a solid weapon to defend herself. Casting her gaze over the forest floor, she looked for stones she might throw, wishing she had a slingshot. She ought to practice using one and make that part of her customary gear. Arrows are hard to come by for an eleven-year-old with a measly allowance, but rocks are free for the taking.

The creature, whatever it was, moved again. Maddie hadn’t seen enough to identify it, but it was something big. Bigger than she was. Its movement dislodged a stone the size of a softball and it tumbled down the hill toward her. She scooped it up like a seasoned infielder and held it in a ready fist as she hurried toward home.

The sounds of pursuit grew more pronounced. She’d been half-convinced it was her imagination, but now there was no denying that something followed her. She turned, stone raised, eyes squinting into the dimness.

Should she shout and throw the rock to scare the creature away? If that didn’t work, she’d have lost her best weapon. As she stood, indecisive, a flurry of guitar chords burst out from behind the trees. Maddie was so startled she nearly dropped the rock clutched in her shaking fist.

A cell phone!

Whatever stalked her in the forest, it was human.