William walked without speaking, pausing only to inspect markings that meant nothing to Mattie—broken bits of twig, a disrupted bit of snow, a piece of cracked bark. None of these things appeared to be the work of the creature. The signs they’d seen the day before had been much more obvious.
Mattie sensed William’s increasing frustration and wished he hadn’t insisted that she accompany him. It would be her fault, somehow, if he didn’t find any sign of the animal.
After an hour or so they reached the meadow. It was about four times the size of the clearing in which they lived. Mattie imagined that in the summer it would be filled with the colorful bobbing heads of mountain flowers—aspen daisies and harebells and blanket flowers and golden banners. William had taught her the names of the flowers, and how to find edible herbs and berries.
She had a sudden memory of William leaning down to point out some columbine. She’d been very small when he did that. In her mind’s eye she could see her hand reaching out to stroke the petals, a little girl’s hand.
The field was brown now, all the flower petals blown away or dried up. Above the meadow was a sloped rock face, several openings dotting the cliff.
“That’s where it will be if it’s anywhere up here,” William said.
Mattie eyed the slope. It was very steep, and there was a great deal of loose scree. It looked dangerous—unnecessarily dangerous, since there was no sign this meadow had been crossed recently by anything larger than a rodent. And if there were bears bedding down for the winter up there, then it would be foolish, even treacherous, to go poking around. What was William thinking?
“If there are bears asleep up there—” Mattie began, but William cut her off.
“Think I don’t know there might be? We’re not going to wake them if there are. We’re only going to look around the entrance to see if any of the prints are like the one we saw yesterday.” His fist curled, but he didn’t raise it. “Don’t try telling me my business, Martha. Now stay close and keep quiet.”
Stay close and keep quiet.
Something twanged deep inside her brain—darkness, a rough hand over her mouth. A whisper. “Stay close and keep quiet.”
William realized she wasn’t following and turned around, a muscle in his jaw twitching. Mattie hurried after him before he could speak again, or remind her in another way that he’d given her an order and she was supposed to obey it.
He strode easily up the slope while Mattie struggled behind. She rarely had to do any kind of strenuous climbing since William insisted she stay so close to the cabin. He stopped by the first entrance to check the ground. Mattie rubbed at the stitch in her side, her breath coming in hard pants.
“You’d better quiet yourself,” William warned. “You sound like a bellows.”
Mattie nodded, trying to catch her breath. “Maybe I should stay here while you go on? It’s very difficult for me, William.”
She tried not to sound like she was pleading, because that always irritated him.
“You will stay with me,” William said between his teeth. “Now keep up.”
He went on toward the next cave entrance without checking to see if she would follow. He knew she would.
Why is he acting like this, insisting I stay with him? He would normally leave me behind in a second if I impeded his progress in any way. It’s not practical for me to try and keep up.
When Mattie first came to live with William he’d been like this—insistent that she stay with him every moment—but it had been a long time since he’d behaved in this manner.
Back then he was afraid I’d sneak off if he took his eyes off me for a moment. He’s afraid of that again, and it’s because of the creature.
Mattie couldn’t piece together why she thought this, though. There was a step she was missing. She only knew that something had changed since yesterday, and that was the presence of a new animal near their home.
But she shouldn’t think on it. She shouldn’t try to solve the puzzle of William’s mood, because she never seemed to solve it right, and anyway, William always told her she should let him do the thinking.
The second cave entrance was much higher on the slope than the first, and by the time they reached it Mattie felt dizzy and a little sick to her stomach.
William crouched down, peering closely at the patches of dirt interspersed between the rocks. Mattie breathed in deeply, trying to settle her racing heart.
She caught a whiff of something rotting, the thick wet stench of decay, and felt the blood drain out of her face. Cold sweat poured down her temples as she covered her nose and turned her head away. Don’t get sick, don’t get sick, but there was nothing for it, she’d already felt nauseous and the smell undid her.