Page 1 of Silent Prey

PROLOGUE

Bethany Cole didn’t see the snake until she had nearly stepped on it.

It was curled in her path, a thick-set creature with brown bands around its dun-colored scales. Its tongue flicked in and out, tasting the cool morning air in sharp hisses, while its beady eyes followed Bethany's every move with an unnerving stillness.

Bethany knew the snake was non-venomous—she had been assured long ago by a park ranger that there were no venomous snakes in Antelope Island State Park—but that didn’t mean it couldn’t deliver a painful bite, which was reason enough for her to keep her distance. Even more than that, however, she felt a profound respect for the creature, a living testament to nature's quiet resilience and lethal beauty.

She carefully stepped back, giving the snake room. It watched her, seemingly indifferent to her retreat. Bethany couldn't help but admire it: the way its muscles coiled around itself, the gleam of its scales in the morning sun.

Bringing her awareness back to her body, Bethany noticed that her heart rate was elevated. She made a deliberate effort to calm her body and control her breathing. As a yoga instructor, she had mastered the art of equanimity in the face of challenge. She dropped her gaze, shutting out the sight of the snake, and closed her eyes for a moment, drawing in deep, cleansing breaths. The cool morning air lightly laced with sea salt nourished her lungs, calmed her heart, and brought a sense of peace to her mind. In her serene solitude, the chirping of birds, rustling grass, and silence of the open water became magnified.

When she opened her eyes again, she discovered the snake had slithered away, leaving the path clear. Bethany released a last deep breath, smiling softly as she looked at the spot where the snake had been. A simple reminder of nature's law: live and let live.

Continuing her walk, she decided to head toward the shore of the Great Salt Lake to finish her meditation. There was a particular place she liked to visit, a secluded nook nestled between two large boulders where the salt-rimmed waves lapped gently against the rocks. It offered a magnificent view of the lake, stretching out in all its vastness, its surface reflecting the kaleidoscope of colors thrown by the rising sun.

The journey to her sacred place was just as transcendent as being there. Bethany loved how every footstep was rewarded with the crunch of sand under her bare feet and a chorus of seagulls cawing overhead. As she moved farther from the land, the air took on a distinct saline scent, reminding her that she was nearing her sanctuary.

She was not a solitary creature by nature. She shared a house with three other women, all of whom, despite their diverse interests, thrived on the vibrant energy of communal living. Their home was a bustling hub of communal living, where the kitchen was always filled with the scent of simmering herbal tea or homemade soup, and the living room echoed with laughter, music, and spirited discussion about everything from chakras to current events. Most nights, they would gather on their large balcony, glasses of red wine in hand, and watch the sunset over the lake. It was a life Bethany loved dearly.

But there were moments when she craved solitude. In those times, she would retreat to her hidden sanctuary on the shore and commune quietly with nature. There was something soothing about sitting alone on the sand, her body held in an easy lotus position, her brown eyes staring out over the expanse of water that turned from champagne pink to fiery gold as the sun rose. The rhythmic sound of the waves became her mantra, easing her into a deep state of meditative tranquility.

On this particular morning, as she reached her special spot and settled down on the cool sand, Bethany felt an unusual serenity envelop her. Perhaps it was the encounter with the snake, or maybe it was just the intoxicating beauty of the dawn-lit lake. Whatever the reason, when she closed her eyes this time and began to focus on her breathing, she descended into a state of profound tranquility more quickly than ever before.

Her mind, so often busy with thoughts and worries, quieted. She felt her muscles relax, one by one, from the tension she hadn't realized they were holding. The cool morning air kissed her skin, raising goosebumps along her arms despite the warm sun climbing higher into the sky.

She lost track of time, sitting quietly in meditation with only the lapping waves and crying gulls to accompany her. It was as if she had become one with the earth beneath her, the sky above her, and the water in front of her. Her heartbeat slowed to match the rhythmic cadence of the shore's gentle pulse, turning her into an integral part of the landscape rather than a simple observer. She existed in this moment, and this moment alone, as a harmonious part of nature's grand design.

A sudden burst of sound startled her. She opened her eyes to see a trio of American avocets—a migratory bird that often visited the island in the fall—sailing past her, water dropping from their wings.

What startled them?

Puzzled, Bethany looked down the shore to her left, the direction from which the avocets had come. She saw nothing but the usual stretch of lonely, golden beach dotted with boulders. She scanned the area for any signs of disturbance but found nothing.

Who knows what might have spooked them? she told herself. You’re not an ornithologist, so don’t pretend to be one.

Still…now that she thought about it, there was an odd calmness to the day, a silence that hadn’t been there just a few minutes ago. Maybe it was just in her head, but even if that was the case, she knew she wouldn’t get any more meditating done this morning.

It was time to head back.

Rising from her spot on the sand, Bethany dusted herself off. She began to make her way along the shore, keeping her head up as she studied her surroundings: the open water, the sand, the clusters of rocks, the trees. As she passed a large rock that jutted out above the shore, she noticed a set of tracks in the sand leading up to the rock.

She bent down to examine them.

At first she thought they must be coyote tracks…but no, they were human prints—at least, some of them were. It looked as though someone had been walking on all fours.

Bethany wasn’t quite sure how to make sense of this revelation. The tracks were large, clearly made by an adult, so there was no possibility that an infant had been crawling around—not that that wouldn’t have been strange in its own way.

But could it be any stranger than an adult crawling on all fours in the sand?

Again, Bethany became aware of the strange silence surrounding her. She felt uneasy, as if she had stumbled across something she wasn’t supposed to find. She imagined this person perching on the edge of the rock and peering down along the shore.

Peering at her.

A shiver ran down Bethany's spine. She stood up and cast another look around the beach, squinting against the sunlight to try to discern anything unusual. But all was still, save for the waves lapping lazily against the shore.

For a moment, she pondered the idea of following the tracks. But no, that would be foolish. She didn't wish to meet whoever had made those tracks. She was curious, but not that curious.

I wonder what the girls will have to say, she thought as she hurried along the shore, making her way to where her car was parked. They would probably think she had misread the prints, and perhaps—after a few glasses of wine—she would feel the same way.

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