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Authors: Leaving Whiskey Bend
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to her, both of their backs to the wagon in which Mary lay. Her first thought was that the noise was caused by the horses, but they were tied to a copse of trees in front of her; the sound had come from the opposite direction.
Has Chester caught up to us?
Everything they did since leaving Whiskey Bend was calculated to keep them safe. Even now, they had stopped only because she and Pearl were exhausted, unable to keep their eyes open for a minute longer. Fearful that they were being followed, they’d even forgone a fire, choosing instead to settle and eat cold food by the natural light of the night.
“Stay calm, Hallie,” she whispered to herself.
Even though her hands were shaking, she found that she couldn’t sit still and simply wait for whatever was out there to find her. She thought of waking Pearl, of facing this unseen menace together, but found she could not; whatever was out there she would deal with if she could
.
Her breath caught in her throat, but she rose to her feet on quaking legs.
Another stick snapped, followed by shuffling sounds.
With utter certainty, Hallie knew that they were not alone. In the sliver of light that the moon gave, she scanned the ground for something, anything that she could use as a weapon. Finally, her eyes lit upon a thick stick that she snatched up greedily, its bark rough against her hand.
It’s up to you now, Hallie. You have to be brave! You have to be strong!
Gasping raggedly through clenched teeth, she took her first step toward the sound.
Rounding the wagon, she peered into the gloom. They’d stopped for the night in a small clearing; little bushes dotted the ground, their tiny leaves ghostly in the moonlight. Hallie stopped as she heard the rustling of branches and another footstep. She wanted to cry out, to ask who was out in the darkness, but fear had trapped her voice in her throat.
Then, suddenly, all was revealed.
Standing between two bushes not ten feet away, a young coyote regarded Hallie warily. It remained stock-still as it stared, its small ears straight up and alert. In what little light there was, the animal’s eyes glowed mischievously. Somewhere over the coyote’s shoulder, she saw even more movement and knew that this hunter was not alone.
“Go on! Get out of here!” she called, but the coyote stood its ground.
It wasn’t until she took a menacing step forward, brandishing the stick as if she intended to use it, that the animal skittered away. Still, it only moved a bit farther out of range before stopping and staring again. It was far less afraid of her than she was of it.
Hallie knew that these coyotes weren’t a real danger, but what they represented filled her with dread. They were the unknown, the unseen that lurked just beyond her vision. They were much like Chester himself; they were predators in search of prey and they would follow that prey until they seized it with their sharp teeth. She and Pearl and Mary would never be able to stop watching, would never be able to stop worrying about the next creature to fall upon them out of the darkness.
As the sun began to color the horizon, Hallie allowed herself to cry.
Chapter Six
“G ODDAMNIT , D OC ! T HAT bullet hurts like hell!”
The words tumbled from his mouth, and Chester Remnick winced as a thunderclap of pain rumbled its way across his head. Lights danced before his eyes and he felt dizzy; if he hadn’t already been sitting, he might have fallen. To ease his discomfort, he did the only thing that felt right and brought the half-empty bottle of whiskey back to his lips and drew hungrily from its neck.
As the booze burned its way down his throat, Chester looked around the tiny space. The doctor’s office in Whiskey Bend was nothing more than an attic room above the mercantile. The small cot upon which he lay was stuffed into one corner, vying for space with the room’s other bits of furniture: a cracked bureau, a wobbly nightstand, and a rickety chair. A cabinet with
Has Chester caught up to us?
Everything they did since leaving Whiskey Bend was calculated to keep them safe. Even now, they had stopped only because she and Pearl were exhausted, unable to keep their eyes open for a minute longer. Fearful that they were being followed, they’d even forgone a fire, choosing instead to settle and eat cold food by the natural light of the night.
“Stay calm, Hallie,” she whispered to herself.
Even though her hands were shaking, she found that she couldn’t sit still and simply wait for whatever was out there to find her. She thought of waking Pearl, of facing this unseen menace together, but found she could not; whatever was out there she would deal with if she could
.
Her breath caught in her throat, but she rose to her feet on quaking legs.
Another stick snapped, followed by shuffling sounds.
With utter certainty, Hallie knew that they were not alone. In the sliver of light that the moon gave, she scanned the ground for something, anything that she could use as a weapon. Finally, her eyes lit upon a thick stick that she snatched up greedily, its bark rough against her hand.
It’s up to you now, Hallie. You have to be brave! You have to be strong!
Gasping raggedly through clenched teeth, she took her first step toward the sound.
Rounding the wagon, she peered into the gloom. They’d stopped for the night in a small clearing; little bushes dotted the ground, their tiny leaves ghostly in the moonlight. Hallie stopped as she heard the rustling of branches and another footstep. She wanted to cry out, to ask who was out in the darkness, but fear had trapped her voice in her throat.
Then, suddenly, all was revealed.
Standing between two bushes not ten feet away, a young coyote regarded Hallie warily. It remained stock-still as it stared, its small ears straight up and alert. In what little light there was, the animal’s eyes glowed mischievously. Somewhere over the coyote’s shoulder, she saw even more movement and knew that this hunter was not alone.
“Go on! Get out of here!” she called, but the coyote stood its ground.
It wasn’t until she took a menacing step forward, brandishing the stick as if she intended to use it, that the animal skittered away. Still, it only moved a bit farther out of range before stopping and staring again. It was far less afraid of her than she was of it.
Hallie knew that these coyotes weren’t a real danger, but what they represented filled her with dread. They were the unknown, the unseen that lurked just beyond her vision. They were much like Chester himself; they were predators in search of prey and they would follow that prey until they seized it with their sharp teeth. She and Pearl and Mary would never be able to stop watching, would never be able to stop worrying about the next creature to fall upon them out of the darkness.
As the sun began to color the horizon, Hallie allowed herself to cry.
Chapter Six
“G ODDAMNIT , D OC ! T HAT bullet hurts like hell!”
The words tumbled from his mouth, and Chester Remnick winced as a thunderclap of pain rumbled its way across his head. Lights danced before his eyes and he felt dizzy; if he hadn’t already been sitting, he might have fallen. To ease his discomfort, he did the only thing that felt right and brought the half-empty bottle of whiskey back to his lips and drew hungrily from its neck.
As the booze burned its way down his throat, Chester looked around the tiny space. The doctor’s office in Whiskey Bend was nothing more than an attic room above the mercantile. The small cot upon which he lay was stuffed into one corner, vying for space with the room’s other bits of furniture: a cracked bureau, a wobbly nightstand, and a rickety chair. A cabinet with
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