Page 65 of Catching Camila

“Why don't you fight me?!” He had no idea if the thing could understand him. It would understand a fight. John tore forward, yelling at the top of his lungs.

They grappled, arms around each other, bodies lurching back and forth, slamming into trees, toppling them with tremendous cracks that echoed through the forest. A cloying smell of earth and raw meat overwhelmed him as John's face pressed against its massive shoulder. From behind, a slashing blow sliced through John's shirt and into his back. He cried out and threw a punch, the beast's head snapping back, blood arcing in the moonlight.

The beast fell heavily into the leaves.

John stood, panting, waiting for it to charge again. Warm blood dribbled down his back. A lot of it. How long before he healed? How much blood could he stand to lose?

The beast sat up, shaking it head. Then it skittered between tree trunks and into the shadows.

He needed something to put an end to this cat-and-mouse game. Something to finish this once and for all. A giant boulder six feet in diameter lay in the shadows, fuzzy with moss and lichen. John strode over and heaved the massive thing out of the ground, clutching it in his arms like a load of heavy groceries. Then he stalked into the darkness.

The smell of the thing was all over him now, so following its scent was no good. His eyes sliced through the shadows, picking up tree trunks, fern fronds, the skitter of some rodent avoiding his path. There was no telling where the thing had gone. His arms ached with the weight of the boulder. His back throbbed where the thing had slashed him.

The sound of a breaking twig to his right. He whirled and jogged forward. Stopped. Listened.

Buzzing mosquitoes and chirping frogs. Then… In the distance, he heard it: the airy sound of something inhaling. He took a step forward.

Something hit him hard from behind.

John went down, the boulder falling out of his arms. His body careened into a pile of leaves. The boulder slammed down on his leg with a sickening crack.

Pain like white lightening shot up his leg and speared his whole body. He cried out, arching his back, reaching for his leg, now buried under six feet of solid rock.

The beast stalked out of the shadows.

Throbbing pain like ten-foot waves crashed over him until he felt he would drown. He shook his head and swiveled his neck to stare the thing in the face. God, it was horrible—the knobby, angled skull, the matted mane around its head reeking of animal waste. Its red eyes slitted to half-moons as if sensing a meal. Then it slowly opened its mouth and flashed rows and rows of dripping fangs.

John pushed on the boulder with his ebbing strength. Pain shot through his body, turning the world gray. He slapped his face. He could not pass out with this thing hovering over him. He slapped once more, clearing his vision, and pushed his hands against solid rock.

The boulder rocked forward and another crunch rocketed up his mangled leg. Pain exploded in his brain like a bomb. He fell back, fighting to stay conscious. He was pinned. Finished.

A low, rumbling growl rolled over John, sending pin-pricks of fear down his limbs. The beast stood over him and spread its claws.

I'm dead,he thought.

He swung his fists wildly a couple of times, but it was no use. The beast was out of range. When it opened its mouth again, revealing razor-sharp teeth curling outward like scimitars, it seemed to be smiling.

The pain transformed to a warm numbness that radiated up John's body. He shook the drowsiness away. He flashed his teeth at the beast in challenge.

“What're you going to do, kill me?! Well, then kill me!”

The beast hovered above for a moment. Then it bolted into the shadows.

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