Anna awoke stretched out on an endless blanket of leaves, and though she had no appetite she was conscious of rumbling sounds in her empty stomach. Her ankle throbbed dully.
Night had fallen and with it a deathlike silence. A crescent moon and a scattering of stars cast a bluish filter of light. Each ripple in the pond caught the eerily diffused glow, providing the illusion that a thousand translucent eyes were watching her. The spider-like roots of the dead oak appeared to move, slowly, grotesquely.
Anna’s heart contracted. Too many hours had passed. What was keeping Zofia from returning with help?
Huddling so close to the pungent earth, Anna imagined herself the only human in the kingdom. She shivered with foreboding. To breathe the cold night vapors was to breathe fear itself. She would not allow herself to panic. Her mind struck then on the god Pan and how he enjoyed startling travelers through his woods by suddenly jumping out from behind a tree.
At that moment the silence was broken by the sound of crackling leaves. Anna’s eyes became fixed, her body tense. Holding her breath, she slowly turned her head, fearful of what she might see. There, a few feet away at the water’s edge, stood a doe and its fawn.
Anna’s breath silently escaped as she relaxed. In moonlit pantomime the animals leisurely drank, and in the profound quiet their lapping was audible. The deer’s presence somehow made her feel secure.
Anna lay flat and stared at the stars, experiencing now something very strange. She had the very real sensation of leaving her body and floating high above the earth and trees. She could peer down at the pond, at the deer, and at herself. It was as though her spirit had become too light for her body to hold.
After a time the sensation passed and she became sleepy again. She fought to stay awake, for certainly they would be arriving soon to take her to safety. But the fatigue was all-powerful.
A sharp noise jarred her awake. What was it? She tried to clear her head. Praying that help had come at last, Anna sat up, rubbed her eyes and strained to look about her. She could see nothing. A dense cloud covering lay like a pall over the patch of forest, hiding the moon and stars. She listened, thinking that the noise might have been the wind, but there was not the slightest breeze to stir the trees. And she was certain the deer had long since vanished. The thought of wolves chilled her through to the bone. The long-toothed predators were known to prowl the neighboring forests in packs.
Time passed.
The noise had been a product of her imagination, Anna decided. She lay down again, where the earth and leaves provided a warm nest against the raw night.
There! Another sound.
Anna immediately sat erect and shook her head, trying to dispel her drowsiness.
A twig snapped. She had no doubt.
A footstep.
Another.
And another.
“Here!” she cried. “Near the water!”
The noises she heard then did not sound like any horse or man. From the brush beyond the nearby bushes came heavy, shuffling footfalls and strange, grunting sounds. Her vapor-filled mind pictured one of the beasts Jan had told her about.
Her heart and mind raced. What was she to do?
A figure staggered out of the shrubbery. Its size made her seize on the notion that it was a bear, huge and menacing. Fear shot like lightning through her body. With the greatest effort she sprang up and began limping away. Her panic carried her through the thicket that surrounded the pond. She could hear its stumbling steps behind her. Terror numbed her injured ankle now as she ran, faster and faster, her arms flailing blindly against the dark of night.
A root caught her foot and sent her sprawling. Her face struck the rocky earth. White pain exploded within her head and traveled through her entire body.
A powerful grasp pulled at her blouse from behind, ripping it and exposing her back. Pulling at her, the creature moaned incoherently. Anna recognized the stale smell of liquor and knew that her attacker was no animal.
She turned to look up. The shirt he wore was white. His arms were reaching for her. Who is it?
Warm, stinging liquid ran into one eye and she reached up to wipe it away. It was blood, her own.
He grasped her now and she choked out a cry.
The response was a guttural laugh.
I must escape, she thought. I must run! Struggling to her knees first, then to her feet, she managed to twist away from his drunken grip.
Blindly, she fled into the darkness, mindless to the briars pulling at her skirt, the willow branches lashing her face. She ran, stumbled and fell, picked herself up, ran again.
She halted a moment, her heart about to burst, breath coming fast. She could smell the pond nearby, the sharp sweetness of the water lilies unmistakable on the night air. She was situated, it seemed, on a little precipice above the water. She caught her breath: another step and she would have tumbled into it.
Anna turned around. Just twenty paces away the white shirt was moving forward like some nocturnal ghost.
Her heart dropped, for she was certain she was lost.
Then he paused. She knew he was listening for her.
Anna stood motionless, breathless.
Afraid that he might see the pale color of the torn blouse, she sidled toward a nearby tree for cover. Clinging to its trunk, she slowly inched her way around it, never for a moment taking her eyes from the white shirt.
As she moved, she dislodged some pebbles or bits of earth. These she heard slipping from the edge and falling into the pond with soft, distinct plops.
Damn, damn, damn. Anna’s teeth bit hard into her lower lip. She felt and tasted the flow of blood.
Then, the white shirt moved in her direction.
Anna knew that she was trapped. Her head reeled. She had but one hope. Resolving to throw him into the pond, she stepped away from the tree and directly into his path.
He was nearly upon her with arms outstretched, reaching. When he was but a step from her, she deftly sidestepped him, closed her eyes in the effort, and pushed against his rock-hard form with every bit of strength she could summon.
He let out a little grunt of surprise and began to topple off the ledge. Anna felt a rush of relief and surprise at the strength that coursed through her. But he locked onto Anna’s hand and held fast to it.
Anna crashed into the pond and cold water filled her ears, nose, mouth. The impact broke her captor’s hold.
Lifting her head above the turbulence of the waters, she immediately stood and began to move away from him, making for the other side of the pond. Her clothing and the muddy bottom slowed her pace.
She gave no thought to her attacker. He could drown for all she cared. She hoped he would drown! Her single instinct became survival.
After some minutes, she could smell the thick, sickeningly sweet water lilies which she knew to be near the huge old oak—and a gently rising shore that would afford safety.
On impulse she fell forward on her stomach and forced her arms into the kind of stroking motions she had seen Zofia use. Miraculously, her body moved. Despite the awkwardness of it, she found herself moving along the surface of the water, and a sense of power and hope surged within her now, fueling her.
At last, Anna drew herself out of the mire-filled basin and collapsed. The dry bank was warm life under her wet and freezing body. She lay face down, unable to move, her forehead on the stony earth. She could not focus her mind to any thought. Her back, legs, arms—every part of her that touched the night—seemed to draw into herself cold, cold air.
Suddenly, she felt the weight of the creature on her back.
Her bones snapped as he cruelly jerked her body toward himself.
His breath, so close upon her, reeked of liquor. She thought that he said: “I’ve come for you, Anna.”
“You drunken swine!” Anna cried. But the words made only slight, soundless movements on her broken lips.
Her upper torso was wrenched backward as he pulled and ripped at her blouse. His mouth moved roughly over her lips, neck, breasts.
Anna’s half-stifled screams turned from those of hatred and fear to those of excruciating pain as his full weight crushed against her.