It sounded like William. It sounded like he was dying.
So the creature was not in the trap then, or it had managed to free itself very quickly. If that was the case then it was unlikely to be seriously injured, and there would be nothing to stop it from pursuing them.
“That sounded like . . .” Jen began, then trailed off.
Everyone already knew who it was, and what it sounded like. There was no need to speak of it. The knowledge was there on their faces.
“What should we do?” C.P. said. “It sounded like he was attacked or something.”
For the first time he didn’t sound excited by the prospect of encountering his unknown animal. He sounded shaken.
“Should we help?” Jen asked.
Help, Mattie thought. Should we help the man who kidnapped me, who killed my mother, who beat me for years, who attacked these people for no reason?
“Fuck that guy,” Griffin said, his words slurred but clear enough to be understood.
They all looked at Mattie, who understood that the final decision was hers to make.
“Go,” she said.
She couldn’t be certain, but she thought they all seemed relieved. Relieved not to encounter William again, or relieved not to face the creature that suddenly seemed dangerous in their eyes?
They began their slow progress again. As they walked, Mattie felt unease bubbling inside her throat. She kept glancing over her shoulder.
“Won’t we hear it coming?” Jen asked when Mattie did this for the fourth time.
Mattie shook her head. “Only . . . if . . . it . . . wants.”
Jen looked skeptical. “Whatever made that noise we heard, that roar—that sounded like something pretty big. I don’t know how it could sneak up on us.”
Mattie thought of her terrible night in the woods alone, how she hadn’t known the creature was there until it was almost too late.
“It . . . can,” she said.
Jen gave Mattie a curious look. “It sounds like you know.”
Mattie nodded, but didn’t try to explain any more. It was too difficult to talk at the moment. She saw C.P. checking the compass he held in his left hand. His right arm was around Griffin, who was barely upright. Suddenly they stopped. Mattie and Jen walked a few feet behind them, and Mattie was too short to see what made them halt.
“Fuck,” C.P. said.
“What?” Mattie said.
He pointed ahead, and Mattie and Jen moved up beside them to see.
There were still several feet of path ahead, but then it ended abruptly in a drop-off.
“That’s the exact direction we need to go,” C.P. said. He gently let Griffin off his shoulder, and the other man slumped in a sitting position on the ground. “Southeast. But unless you’ve got rappelling gear in your pocket, we’ve got to turn around and find another way down.”
“Maybe we can follow the cliff for a while?” Jen asked.
“The face of the cliff is running east-west,” he said. “So either we go directly east, which is really the way we need to go anyway but there’s a supposedly huge killer monster in that direction eating up the guy who tried to beat us with a shovel. Or we go the other way and end up on the top of the mountain where the monster lives, which also happens to not be in the direction of home and/or the police.”
“No need to be an ass,” Jen said. “I only asked a question.”
“A dumb question,” C.P. said.
“Fuck off,” she said, her face flushing. “What do you want to do, C.P.? We obviously can’t jump off the mountain and land at the bottom, so we’ve got to go in one direction or the other.”
“Why did I get picked to be the captain?” C.P. said, then pointed at Mattie. “Why doesn’t she tell us the best way to go? She’s the one who’s lived here forever.”
Mattie started. She’d felt herself shrinking backward, shrinking inwards while they argued. Shouting meant hitting. Hitting meant pain.
“Don’t try to drag her into your stupidity,” Jen said. “She already said that asshole never let her leave the cabin. She’s a kidnap victim. How’s she supposed to know the best way to go?”
C.P.’s face flushed the same angry red as Jen’s.
Warning. It’s a warning. Don’t argue with him. Don’t contradict. Don’t.
“Don’t,” she said to Jen, tugging at her sleeve, trying to pull her backward.
Mattie stumbled, her heels catching in a protruding root buried in the snow. She fell onto her bottom, and everything spun and ached but she kicked at the snow with her boots, trying to find purchase, trying to move away, away from the shouting and the noise and the place where she would be punished for not knowing where to go and what to do.