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Macy didn’t move a muscle. The devil smelled her from head to toe, over and over, backing away, then coming back. Its long sinewy body gave her no confidence that she could escape without it catching her, probably solely by stretching out and clamping down. After what seemed like an interminably long time, it exhaled one last breath, and retreated back into the darkness of the cave.
Macy finally released the air in her lungs.
Could it not see her? Was it like the T-Rex in Jurassic Park? Was anything like the T-Rex in Jurassic Park? Or did that get made up by a crazy writer to enhance the plot and give the heroes a fighting chance against a prehistoric monster?
She took a step out of the cave, the rain instantly chilling her. She looked up, let the raindrops hit her face. Then back down to see nothing but darkness, haunted by the silhouettes of towering trees. Inside the cave was a mythical creature that she’d seen violently attack another human, but out in the woods, she saw only a black void of uncertainty.
In Hogg Run, she’d come face to face with a mutant pig that wanted her dead. Despite what she’d seen earlier in the day, she didn’t think the devil wanted her dead. Somehow, she felt it in her bones.
She took a step back inside and waited. The chitters from before had quieted. She could hear nothing, not even the breathing of the beast, or the rustling of its feet against the cave floor. Staying here was surely a gamble—one that could end in her death. But all her choices were a roll of the dice, a shuffle of the cards.
Macy slid to the ground, pulled her knees up and hugged them against her chest. She lowered her head, focused on her breathing, and, eventually, fell sleep.
***
She woke with a start. Chirping birds. Pale sunlight leaking through the cave mouth. No more rain.
Macy had stayed balled up all night, and her shoulders ached. Her butt throbbed from sitting on hard rock. She blinked into the brightness, then turned back to look further into the cave, still unable to see the very back. She could make out a mass of fur, though, spiraled in on itself, its body heaving up and down with every breath.
A whole night in a cave with the devil. Other than a few sore muscles, she was no worse for the wear. Her gamble had paid off. She sat relatively dry, less tired than she might have otherwise been, and filled with the hope that had kept her from giving up the day before. Still not entirely confident that she wouldn’t be eaten—the devil might have just been full, after all—Macy quietly got to her feet, her eyes on the creature in the back of the cave the whole time.
When she finished the maneuver, its large head lifted, high enough for its beady eyes to look at her. Its whiskers twitched and, for the first time, Macy didn’t see a monster. It buried its head back into its spiral of fur before she could get a good enough look.
Her stomach rumbled. The pre-packaged food she’d eaten the previous day could only hold out so long. She’d need food. Water, more importantly. She didn’t know how to get either of those things. Vaguely, she knew she should boil any water before she drank it, but starting a fire was a daunting task that she didn’t feel up to, given her resources. Just glancing around, she spied a large pitted rock, where rainwater had collected in a divot.
Surely better than river water, right? She moved to the rock and cupped some water in her hand, bringing it up to her mouth, bracing herself and swallowing it down. Tasted like dirt with a pinch of grass. Not the worst thing she’d ever put in her mouth. She took a few more scoops until her parched throat felt a little better, then dried her hand off on the longer leg of her jeans. Probably she needed to get some sort of shot or something when she got back to civilization. She’d worry about that later.
She found a fallen tree nearby and used it as a bench, the seat of her jeans already so wet that it didn’t matter that the log had been soaked through in the night. Now entirely unconcerned with the devil in the cave, Macy turned her thoughts towards bigger problems. She had to find a way out of the woods, or a way towards Miriam. Either would save her. Miriam could be anywhere, and if Macy had learned anything so far, it was that these woods were a maze of confusion. The chances of finding Miriam seemed infinitesimally small. She’d just as likely get eaten by a bear, or break her ankle, or get stung by some sort of bug. Or a snake. Did they have snakes up here?
She considered yelling. Perhaps she’d stayed close enough that Miriam would hear her cries. But, Abby... if she was still alive, she’d certainly be able to hear. Macy couldn’t take that risk.
Macy needed something more than risk or hope. She needed to know the future. She needed to know where Miriam would be, where she was going, where she could be found.
But wait.
She had that.
She knew exactly where Miriam would be. Eventually anyway. Miriam had come to Washington for one reason, and one reason alone. To find the Devil of Misty Lake. And since Macy had already done that, it was only a matter of time before Miriam showed up. Maybe not in this exact place, but if Macy just followed the devil, then she’d find Miriam. Or, at least, that was her best shot.
Her chest warmed at the thought. It made sense. It didn’t require her to stumble through the woods. It just required her to shack up with the devil for a little while and, based on her first night, that didn’t seem too terrible.
Not the best plan, she realized, but also not the worst.
Content to stay put for the time being, Macy wandered back into the cave and took her spot against the wall. Without a phone, time seemed insufferably slow, but it wasn’t more than a few minutes before Macy heard skittering from the devil’s den. Then chitters and chirps. High-pitched. Not from the devil itself.
Then, a small silhouette appeared from behind the fur and hopped towards Macy, its back arching with every step. When it came into the light, she beheld the cutest little otter.
“Hey, little fella. What are you doing here?”
She held out a hand for inspection. The otter sniffed it.
What was an otter doing here?
Eager to pet the cute little creature in front of her, Macy moved her hand a little faster than intended and caused the otter to jump, to back up several feet. The devil stirred at the commotion, its head sticking up again, regarding Macy with those same beady eyes. Large eyes, but also familiar. She looked down at the otter, who had begun creeping back towards her. And back up again.
The eyes.
The whiskers.
The shape of the head.
For a monster, this thing looked strangely similar to her new little friend.
Holy crap.
The devil wasn’t a monster at all. It was a humongous frickin’ otter.
