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When Adam saw the man from the front, bile rose in his throat and he gagged. The man had been mutilated. His chest torn open. Blood still trickled through the dirt beside his leg. This had just happened.
Adam’s eyes swept the valley to the west and south, then north. The woods from which he had just emerged were sparse enough to see a fair distance through the trees. The forest to the north, however, was much denser. It was steep, rugged, foreboding country. The mountain people must be in that forest. And they couldn’t be far.
Adam turned back the way he had come and sprinted toward the cover of the trees, his eyes searching the tree line ahead and to the north. When he reached the trees he stopped to gather his thoughts.
Then another grisly discovery. Three more bodies, not twenty feet from the path Adam had been on—all with gaping holes in their chests.
Adam’s own chest pounded. The mountain people, or whoever did this, must be nearby. They might be watching him this very moment from within the black timber to the north.
He considered his options. Continuing westward in the grasslands was out. Too much exposure. The wind had stopped, so his natural impulse was to run full speed to the city—the only place of safety he knew. It made the most sense, but ...
Adam didn’t like the idea of having an unknown danger at his back. The best way to avoid being found, he figured, was to keep his eye on the hunter.
Staying as low as possible, he crawled back toward the meadow for an unobstructed view. Just inside the tree line he found a protected position that allowed a northward view. For most of the afternoon he listened intently and kept an intense gaze on the edge of the black timber, watching for movement within the trees.
As the sun dipped to the horizon, a deep chill descended. He would need a fire overnight, but not here—not where the killers could find him.
Movement! Adam caught his breath. Just inside the thick timber ... it looked like ... legs moving. He strained to see. A tall, dead pine stood higher than the surrounding trees. Right around there. Yes! There it was again. He was sure of it. They were up there.
He reassessed his position and concluded they would not be able to see him as long as he remained still. He kept watching. Soon three of them emerged from the trees into the meadow.
What? Adam looked at the men, then at the pines behind them, then at the men again. His heart raced. No wonder everyone feared the mountain people. The men stood almost as tall as the trees. He wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him.
Several more giants stepped out from the trees. All were armed—swords, machetes, and clubs. They turned toward Adam. He froze.
There’s no way they can see me in this cover from that distance. But they were all facing his direction. And now they were running!
With their gaping strides they closed the distance with astonishing speed. Adam leapt from his nest and bolted right, farther into the woods.
He was fast, but he stood no chance of outrunning those monsters. They would know he didn’t flee south or west because he’d be visible in the wide-open grasslands. They were coming from the north, so that left only east. If he continued that way, they would quickly overtake him. His only chance of not being found was to get to a spot they had already searched.
When the trees blocked line of sight, Adam cut left—straight north, toward the monsters. His many years of sneaking out to search for the pond without being seen by irritable orchard dwellers had given him the ability to move silently through the woods. His only chance was to approach them head on and pass them undetected.
He crept through the trees, taking care to leave no tracks and keeping wide of the line they had been taking when he lost sight of them. If they stayed on that course, this should work—unless ... What if there are dozens, or even hundreds combing through this forest?
Sooner than he had expected, footsteps pounded just ahead. He dropped to his stomach and bloodied his elbows pulling himself into a dense thicket that stood less than two feet high and hoped they didn’t trample him. As one after another rumbled past, he thought he’d rather be lying in the path of stampeding buffalo.
A giant foot landed so close it shoved twigs into Adam’s face.
In a moment, the thunderous crashing faded to the south. Evidently, they were still rushing to the spot where they had first seen him.
Seconds later, Adam sprinted northward. His certainty that the giants were the ones responsible for the killings grew each time he had to step over more bodies as he made his way through the trees.
As he approached the dead pine, Adam stopped to listen. Several long moments without a sound satisfied him that they had all left the area.
He would examine their tracks to determine how many there were, then follow them backward and discover where they had come from. Risky, but the more he knew about them the better.
Tracking should be easy. Such men would leave unmistakable prints in the soft forest soil.
After a few minutes of searching, Adam stopped and slid his fingers through his hair. Where are the tracks?
He saw a few indentations that resembled a child’s prints, but the giants left no trace.
Adam watched the western horizon swallow up the last golden sliver of the sun. Darkness fell, and with it, bitter cold. He would have to find cover before building his fire.
While searching for tracks, he had heard movement inside the black timber. But it sounded more like the subtle scratching of animals than the marching noise humans make. Adam wondered if animals had killed those people.
Whatever lurked in those woods, he needed to find shelter. Surely there must be caves in the rugged terrain within the black timber.
With some effort, he broke a sturdy branch from a tree. Probably not much of a defense against a wild animal attack, but better than nothing. He took a breath, peered into the darkness ahead of him, and entered the menacing woods.
An hour of hunting and some welcome moonlight brought him to an opening in the rocky hillside. As he approached the mouth of the cave, he tossed a stone into the blackness, hoping to scare any animal that might be inside. Nothing moved. Another stone. Coast is clear ... I guess.
He gathered an armload of sticks and used his free hand to feel his way along the cave wall. A short distance in, he kindled his fire, hoping he was close enough to the opening that the smoke would escape.
Soon the flames warmed him, and he leaned against the side. A wave of fatigue swept over him and he closed his eyes.
What am I doing here? If the giants find me, I’ll be cornered. And who knows what kinds of animals might be in this cave.
Wise or foolish, this cave was his only option right now. And he needed rest.
He drew a startled breath and sat up. What was that sound? The fire was out. He listened. I’m sure I heard someth—
His hair moved. A flailing swing to brush the thing away impacted the side of the cave with a crack. He winced at the shooting pain and pulled his broken wrist to his chest, biting his lip to smother the moans that would give away his position.
He checked his head with his good hand. Probably just a drip of water. Still, he wanted out of that cave.
He rose to his feet. In that same moment, something landed on his back. This was no pebble. It was an animal, and it was biting him. The creature’s teeth punctured Adam’s skin.
Forgetting the throbs of his fractured wrist, he flailed, nearly throwing his arm out of joint in a wild attempt to grab the creature. When he finally got a hold of it, he ripped the animal from his back and flung it with all his strength toward the back of the cave.
Light filled the cave and a man appeared before Adam. A new kind of terror gripped him, and he dropped to one knee.
The man pointed to the depths of the cavern and spoke. “Remember the vigor with which you cast it.”
Adam opened his eyes. He was alone. The cave was dark, and Adam had not moved since he had gone to sleep. His wrist was fine, and no wounds marred his body.
He sat up and attempted to gather his wits. The dream troubled him. The first part was nothing unusual as dreams go, but the man—that was different. He seemed, somehow, to be outside the dream.
Adam contemplated the words. Remember the vigor with which you cast it. What did that mean?
A violent shiver shook Adam’s core. The fire had clearly been out for some time and his chilled legs could hardly stand. I need some more wood.
He felt his way along the sides toward the mouth of the cave. Something touched him from behind and an involuntary yelp escaped his throat. He tried to run, but a massive hand clamped down on his shoulder. Adam wondered if his collar bone would snap. This time it was no dream.