Page 2 of Snow Creek

Please no.

She stood still. Like a deer. Her eyes scanning through a veil of evergreens. The wind picked up and the fringe of forest cover parted a little, though not enough to afford a better view. She moved a few steps closer.

Arguing.

What are they saying?

She couldn’t quite hear, yet fear gripped her anyway. Something bad. Something terrible was happening.

What are they fighting about?

Next, there was the sound of a car door slamming, then another, and branches snapping and, finally, a loud whoosh as something rolled from the road down into the ravine.

A beat later, flames shot upward into the soggy sky.

Adrenalin surged through Regina’s thin frame, jolting her, playing on her bones like some kind of macabre xylophone. She put her hand to her lips as though she needed to stifle a scream.

Don’t want them to know I’m here!

Regina wasn’t a screamer. Amy was.

Then the fireball gave way to a column of black smoke rising above the treetops. It was heavy, oily and very scary. It took her breath away.

I need to get out of here. Wait until I tell Amy. Oh God. She probably won’t even believe me.

Regina turned to leave and a voice called out from the logging road above.

“Someone’s down there.”

Another person called out.

“Shit no!”

“I saw something move,” said the first one.

“You’re crazy. You saw a deer.”

“No, it was more than that.”

“A bear. A cougar, then.”

Regina didn’t move. She wore a dark shirt and khakis that she rolled up above her dark blue Crocs. She didn’t know why for certain, but she was terrified.

Stay still. Still will make it go away. Make them go away.

She wondered if the animals she’d trapped felt the same way when a snare caught their little legs.

She turned and took in a big puff of air and ran as fast as she could. She never looked back. Not even when she lost a Croc to a root over the trail. She was the rabbit that got away, though she still wasn’t sure what she was running from. She carried that puff of air in her lungs, forgetting to exhale until nearly passing out. When she returned home, she noticed that her bare foot was bleeding. She’d cut it somehow. Sweat had drenched her back, leaving a racing stripe from her neck to her waist. She removed her clothes on the front porch, then let the water of the outdoor shower run over her. It was cold, spiking her body, mixing with her tears.

She hadn’t cried in a long time.

There hadn’t been any reason to.

Regina thought she heard Amy call out. She turned the faucet from her face, twisted off the water and retrieved a stiff, formerly white towel from a peg, wrapped it around her and went inside. She poked her head into the living room. Amy was still asleep. She didn’t like to be wakened. She needed her sleep. Sleep would return her to her old self.

She’d tell her everything tomorrow.

She’d also go back and find out what had happened on what the couple had long believed was an abandoned road.