Megan scowled as she stared out the open bedroom window. The setting sun cast shadows through the trees, long shapes that stretched across the field and toward the rolling mountains beyond. Small gray birds winged their way silently across the dusk sky, booking it for Somewhere Better Than Here. If Megan squinted, she could make out two, maybe three other houses hidden in the green landscape. That was it.
“It’s lovely,” Megan said aloud. “If you’re a cow.”
Behind her, Carrie sighed. “Just so I know, are you going to be like this all summer?”
Megan slammed the window shut and turned to face her cousin. “You grew up here. You don’t know any better.”
“Oh, sure.” Red curls framed Carrie’s freckled face. “The entire population of upstate New York lives here because we don’t know any better. Couldn’t possibly be that we actually like being able to breathe the air and see the sky.” Carrie tugged at the strap of her green sundress. “Seriously, Megan, you’re just here for the summer. Deal.”
But that was the problem. Megan was stuck here for the summer while her parents trotted around Europe, “rediscovering their relationship.” She shoved her hands into the pockets of her denim jacket as she looked past Carrie to the battered brown duffel she’d tossed onto the bed. Megan’s parents had bought her a new suitcase, blinged up with glitter and flowers and a set of wheels—right before announcing they were going to Paris and leaving her behind.
Megan didn’t want their gifts, any more than she wanted to spend the summer in a town so small it couldn’t bother with traffic lights, let alone anything as civilized as a mall. “So what do you do here for fun? Tip the cows over?”
“We can see a movie, if Mom and Dad’ll give us a ride.” Carrie had stopped trying to hide the strained patience in her voice hours ago. “We can hang out with my friends.”
Megan gave her cousin a long look. She had her own friends, thanks very much, even if they were all three hundred miles away.
“We can go hiking,” Carrie said, without any real enthusiasm.
“Hiking. How nice.” Megan matched her cousin’s tone with even less sincerity, while outside, the sun cast a few last rays of gold into the room.
Carrie squinted into the sudden brightness. “Dad said you could borrow one of his rifles. You were complaining the range at your school was too small.”
“Well, that beats tipping cows, anyway.”
“I have a better idea,” Carrie said icily, the last of her patience gone with the light. “Why don’t I just leave and let you unpack? Alone.” She turned for the door.
Megan took a deep breath. It wasn’t Carrie’s fault Megan was stuck in the middle of nowhere, after all. “Fine. We can go hiking tomorrow if you want.”
Carrie stopped with one hand on the doorknob. “Don’t do me any favors. I have summer school tomorrow, anyway.”
“Okay, Saturday,” Megan said.
“Whatever. I’ll see you later, okay?”
Megan watched Carrie disappear down the hall, then turned back to the window. With the sun behind the mountains, the air felt suddenly cold. Megan shivered as she stared into the deepening blue sky.
Mom and Dad could have taken her with them. Or sent her to summer camp. Or—anything. Anything had to be better than this. She glared at the mountains, which were fading with the light.
A movement in the dimness caught her eye. Something white bolted across the field and disappeared among the trees. A horse, Megan thought, or maybe a deer.
Not that it mattered. Megan shut the window on the emptiness outside and began unpacking her old brown duffel.
* * *
Megan sighted the Coke can through the rifle, raised the barrel slightly, and fired. The gun let out a crack, and the can flew from the wooden fence to the grass. Megan smiled as she sighted the next can.
“Pretty good shot, for a girl.”
Who even said that anymore? Megan lowered the rifle and turned around. A lanky boy with dirty-blond hair stared at her, one corner of his mouth lifting in an amused grin. A cute amused grin, which just might make him the first thing in these mountains worth looking at.
“Good shot for anyone.” Megan replaced the safety on the rifle and walked over to him.
The boy just laughed. “I’m looking for Carrie. You seen her?”
“Oh.” Megan tried not to sound disappointed. Of course an upstate guy would be interested in an upstate girl. “Carrie’s at school. Want me to tell her you stopped by?”
“Nah, that’s okay.” The boy reached out and shook her hand. Megan didn’t know anyone who did that anymore, either. “I’m Josh.”
“Megan.”
“Oh, Carrie’s cousin, right? From downstate?”
“Yeah.”
“So where’d a city kid like you learn to shoot like that?” Josh’s green eyes were bright, amused—but there was a challenge in them, too.
“At school. I placed second on the rifle team last year.”
More laughter. “Oh, that explains it. Up here we shoot things that move.”
Maybe he wasn’t so cute after all. “Do you have something against getting your meat from a supermarket like normal people?”
“What, can’t handle knowing where your dinner really comes from?” Josh shook his head. “Of course, deer aren’t in season now anyway.”
Great, he wanted to shoot Bambi. “I saw a deer yesterday,” Megan said defensively. “A white one.”
All at once, Josh stopped laughing, and his eyes went large. “Deer are brown,” he said. “Maybe gray. That was a unicorn.”
“Yeah, right.” Megan just stared at him. “How stupid do you think I am? Everyone knows unicorns are extinct. Died out during the Civil War.”
“Don’t believe everything your downstate history books tell you.” Josh’s own disdain matched hers. “There aren’t many unicorns left, but they’re here all right. And if you saw one at all ...” His voice drifted off, and his eyes went languid, in that way that usually made Megan excited and worried at once. Not now, though. Whatever Josh and Carrie had going, she wasn’t about to mess with it. Probably better not to fall for a small town boy anyway. Megan was doing her time here this summer, and when the summer was through she was going home. End of story.
“You ever want to see a unicorn,” Josh said, his voice strange and low, “You just let me know. I’ll go unicorn hunting with you.”
Why, so he could kill them? Maybe there was more than one reason she didn’t want to get involved with Josh. “That’s okay. Carrie and I are going hiking tomorrow, anyway.”
Josh looked genuinely startled. “That’s not very safe.”
Why, because they wouldn’t have some guy along to protect them? Suddenly Megan just wanted to be done with this conversation. “I think I can handle a few deer.”
“That’s not what I meant,” Josh said.
Megan had no idea what he did mean. Didn’t care, either. “I’ll tell Carrie you stopped by, okay?”
“Yeah,” Josh said, and now he only looked thoughtful, no hint of the grin that had—almost—made her fall for him. “Yeah, you do that.”
* * *
Megan followed Carrie along the dirt trail, which wound uphill among the trees. The air smelled of mold and rotting leaves, and Megan wrinkled her nose as she struggled to keep up. Not that she was about to admit to Carrie she was struggling. Megan ran track as well as being on the rifle team. No way was she letting a stroll through the woods defeat her.
The school track was flat, though. Megan’s feet kept getting tangled up in roots and stems that didn’t seem to understand they were supposed to stay off the trail, any more than the branches that kept swinging into her face understood it.
Carrie disappeared around a bend. Megan fought her way through a wall of something Carrie had called ragweed, then hauled herself over some rocks to where her cousin waited, leaning against a maple tree and munching on an apple. She offered Megan a bite.
Megan shook her head as she collapsed beside the trail. Carrie sat beside her, shrugging off the backpack she wore. “We can stop at the next ridge if you’re that tired.”
“I’m not tired,” Megan said, breathing hard. Carrie rolled her eyes, proving Megan wasn’t fooling either of them, so Megan changed the subject. “Some guy stopped by for you yesterday. Said his name was Josh.”
Carrie’s eyes narrowed as she tossed the apple core into the woods. “What did he want?”
Okay then. Maybe Carrie and Josh’s thing was firmly in the past, after all. “He an ex?”
“Josh? No !” Carrie got abruptly to her feet and began walking again.
Megan grabbed the backpack her cousin had left behind and ran after her. “So you’re saying that it’s complicated?”
Carrie whirled back to face her. “I’m saying that I don’t want to talk about it.” Carrie snatched the pack away and kept walking, faster than before. Megan stumbled after her, but she couldn’t keep up. Her calves began to cramp, and she stopped to rub them. “Screw this.” No way was she running up half the mountain. Let Carrie come back and find her. Megan sat down on a log that crossed the trail to wait.
In the trees, she saw a flash of white.
She scrambled to her feet as she saw it again. There. The thing retreated deeper into the forest. She followed it, her heart pounding, even as she told herself it was probably just a deer and that Josh had probably just been messing with her. But there was only one way to find out. She kept walking, ignoring the branches that caught in her hair.
All at once the forest opened out, leaving Megan in a small, grassy glade. She blinked in the sudden brightness. At the far end of the glade, a waterfall splashed into a rocky pool. And standing there, gazing into that water ...
Megan caught her breath. A unicorn—an honest-to-god-unicorn—stood beside the pool, white coat shining, silver horn glistening wetly in the sun. It was real, she thought wildly. It was real, and it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
It didn’t look like a horse, and it didn’t look like a deer. It looked entirely like itself, from its small, delicate hooves to the mane that fell like sea-foam over its curving neck.
As Megan stared, the waterfall seemed to fall silent. The wind stopped brushing her cheek. Nothing moved. Not even the unicorn, which kept staring into the pool, motionless as if it were rooted to the grassy earth. Megan ached to touch it, to caress that silky coat. She took a step forward.
Someone gripped her shoulder. Megan cried out, breaking the silence.
“Quiet,” Carrie whispered. “It’ll hear you.” Her fingers dug through Megan’s T-shirt as she tugged her cousin backwards.
“Cut it out !” Megan jerked away. Maybe Carrie saw unicorns all the time, but Megan had never, ever seen anything like this. No way was she missing it.
Carrie grabbed Megan’s hand. Megan whirled to face her, but words died on her lips. As she looked at her cousin she saw cold, hard fear in Carrie’s eyes.
“Megan, please.” Carrie’s voice was low, her face tight. “Let’s go.”
Megan had seen Carrie angry before—mostly at her—but never scared, not like this. Megan let her cousin pull her away, though with every step she longed to turn around, to see the unicorn again. She’d been so close. The thought brought tears to her eyes.
As soon as they left the glade, Carrie tightened her hold on Megan’s hand and burst into a run. Megan stumbled after her, cursing as she pulled back, trying to slow her cousin down. Carrie kept running.
It wasn’t until they were halfway down the mountain that Carrie finally collapsed, wheezing, right in the middle of the trail. Megan struggled to catch her breath and glare at her cousin at the same time.
“We were lucky it was by the water,” Carrie panted. “Sometimes unicorns get so caught up in their own reflections that they don’t notice anything else.”
Who could blame them? “Carrie, it was gorgeous.” All at once Carrie’s fear seemed stupid. What was she doing, dragging Megan away from all that beauty, back to the endless trees and dirt and emptiness? Megan turned from her cousin and started back up the trail, not caring if Carrie followed.
“No, Megan.” Carrie scrambled to her feet and laid a hand on Megan’s shoulder.
Megan didn’t look at her. She looked up the trail, back toward the glade. “Why not?”
“There are some things you have to understand if you’re going to live up here.” Carrie’s voice was steadier now. “Unicorns aren’t beautiful. They’re dangerous.”
“Dangerous how?” Megan demanded. “What are you so scared of?”
“I’m not scared for me,” Carrie said softly. “I’ve ...” Her voice faltered. “I’ve already taken care of that. You’re the one I’m worried about.”
“Taken care of what?” Megan looked back at her cousin.
Carrie pushed the toe of her sneaker into the dirt. “Just promise me you won’t go up there alone, okay?”
“Not if you won’t tell me why.” Megan’s parents had done this, too. They’d told Megan they needed some time alone together without telling her what was really wrong, or why their relationship needed rediscovering when they’d never even fought in front of Megan before. Megan had had more than enough of being told to shut up and listen for her own good.
“Megan?” Carrie looked uncomfortably up at her.
Megan opened her mouth, ready to tell her cousin that no way was she giving up on unicorns because of some vague warnings, when she remembered Josh’s words.
You ever want to see a unicorn, you just let me know.
“Fine, Carrie,” Megan said. “I won’t come up here alone. I promise.”
* * *
Josh drove the pickup as far as he could, only stopping when the gravel road gave way to a rocky dirt trail. Megan glanced behind the seat as she climbed outside. Josh’s rifle laid there. Maybe we can get in some practice later, he’d said. See who’s really the better shot.
Just as long as he didn’t try to kill anything. Megan was relieved to see him leave the rifle behind as he led the way to the trail. It had rained the night before, and the air smelled of mud and cut grass. Megan’s sneakers squelched in that mud as she followed Josh, leaving the road behind.
The trail narrowed as they walked. Megan’s legs were getting used to these mountains; they didn’t protest as she hiked uphill through the trees. A steady wind raised goosebumps on her arms as it blew the remains of last night’s clouds away.
Josh stopped at a fork in the trail. “I see them around here sometimes. Maybe we’ll get lucky.” He reached for Megan’s hand.
She shoved both hands into her pockets. Josh had been trying to get his sweaty paws on her the whole ride up. He could try someone else. Josh and Carrie might not be a couple, but whatever was going on between them, Megan still didn’t want to get in the middle of it.
Though that hadn’t stopped her from admiring the way his dirty blond bangs fell into his face as he drove, or the way his jeans hugged his butt as they hiked.
Josh stared at her a moment, his green eyes dangerously soft. He gestured to the trail. “Which way?”
How would Megan know? Both ways looked the same to her. She started left, then hesitated when she felt a faint tug to the right. She turned that way instead, even as she told herself she’d imagined it.
The tugging grew stronger. All at once Megan stepped off the trail. Josh followed her, so close she felt his breath on the back of her neck.
Something rustled through the brush ahead of them. Megan froze as they came to a wall of leafy green branches. Beyond it, the rustling grew louder.
Hands trembling, Megan pushed the branches apart and stepped through.
Three unicorns stood in a clearing, grazing quietly on the high grass. Their horns were silver, bright as the sunlit meadow around them. Their white coats shone, nearly as bright.
The wind went still, and Megan felt her pulse, pounding in her throat. She stepped forward, toward all that light.
A twig snapped beneath her feet. The largest unicorn lifted its head at the sound, and its liquid black eyes fixed on Megan. It nickered lightly, and the others lifted their heads as well.
Josh’s fingers dug into Megan’s arm. “Come on,” he said, his voice suddenly taut. “Before they charge.”
Megan stumbled backwards, and Josh caught her in his arms. “They’re going to charge?” Her gaze was still on the unicorns, with their bottomless dark eyes. They were breathing hard now, and sweat trickled down their sides, but she couldn’t seem to look away.
“Of course they’re going to charge. They’re unicorns !” Josh tightened his hold, but Megan jerked free. She’d come here to see unicorns, and no one was going to stop her this time.
One of the unicorns threw its head back. Megan stepped toward it, her legs weak as water, her arms outstretched.
The unicorn opened its mouth and let out a howl. Megan felt her own eyes go wide as the sound rattled through her bones. The creature’s mouth was lined with long, pointed teeth, teeth silver as its horn and nearly as sharp. For a heartbeat more, she couldn’t move.
The unicorn howled again, and Megan remembered how to run. She whirled away, skidding through the mud as she bolted for the trail, Josh right beside her. Teeth, she thought wildly. They had teeth.
All three creatures were howling now, and Megan heard hooves churning the mud behind her.
“This way !” Josh dashed ahead, leading them across the trail and back into the forest on the other side. Megan followed him downhill until they nearly crashed into a limestone outcrop.
An outcrop with a narrow opening beneath it.
Josh gestured Megan ahead of him. She dropped to hands and knees to crawl beneath the stone. It opened out into a small cave, high enough to sit in but not high enough to stand. Dim light filtered in from outside, revealing a tunnel that disappeared into the darkness on the cave’s far end. Megan sat up, gasping, beside it.
Josh scrambled to Megan’s side. “We made it,” he said, breathing hard.
Megan stared at him. His jeans were streaked with mud, and a few twigs had gotten tangled in his hair, but he didn’t look frightened, not really. Of course, he hadn’t been as close as Megan had when the unicorns had opened their mouths.
“Why didn’t you tell me they had teeth?” Megan snapped as she fought to catch her own breath.
“They’re unicorns,” Josh said again, as if that explained everything.
“Yeah, well, it’s not like I run into unicorns on my way to school every day !”
Josh’s green eyes drew together in sudden concern. “Megan, how much do you know about unicorns?”
“I already told you—I thought they were extinct !” Outside, hooves pounded the earth. There was a moment’s silence, and then something crashed against the outcrop.
A horn poked through the opening, stabbing empty space. Megan pressed back against the wall as the horn swept through the air. It finally retreated, but a banging started up, as if the unicorns were throwing themselves at the cave.
Megan looked to Josh. “Now what?”
Josh shrugged, his concern gone. “They can’t get through the opening. We have plenty of time.”
Something about Josh’s matter-of-fact tone bothered her, but it took a moment to figure out what. “How would you know?”
Josh didn’t answer, which was answer enough. He’d known the same way he’d known where to hide in the first place. He’d come here looking for unicorns before. But why would he do that, if he knew what unicorns could do?
More to the point, what were they supposed to do now? Megan thought back to the few unicorn stories she’d heard. Only one thing seemed to calm the creatures. Megan looked down, away from Josh’s green gaze. “Listen, I’ve never slept with anyone, okay?” She felt her face go hot. “Isn’t that supposed to help or something?”
“Help?” Josh’s voice squeaked as his eyes widened. “Megan, unicorns eat virgins.”
“What?” Megan’s voice was flat with disbelief. “Like, for dinner?”
“Or lunch or breakfast or ... yes. It doesn’t have to be humans. Any species will do. But why do you think you could find them so easily? I couldn’t have found them at all. Carrie neither. I thought you knew.”
“Thought I knew?” Megan’s voice rose. “Those unicorns are out there because I—no freaking way.”
“Yeah,” Josh said. “That’s why I came along. To keep you safe.”
Megan stared at him a moment, not understanding what he meant. Then she got it, along with the reason he’d been so eager to look for unicorns with her in the first place—and the way he’d assumed this little hike was going to end.
She punched him in the jaw, hard.
Josh slammed back into the cave wall. He winced as sat back up. “Hey, calm down! It’s not like we have a choice !” He stopped Megan’s blow this time, catching her hand in his.
Megan jerked free. “Don’t you touch me.”
Josh held up his hands, as if to say he meant no harm. It was a bit late for that. “Hey, Megan, I’ll be gentle, I promise.”
“I’d rather have the unicorns,” Megan said.
“Don’t you understand?” Josh’s hands clenched into fists. “The unicorns will kill you.”
“Oh, I understand.” Megan’s voice was cold as ice. Her eyes searched the cave while the unicorns kept pounding the stones. She couldn’t go back out there with them, not now. That only left her one choice.
She got back onto hands and knees and started into the tunnel.
“Don’t be stupid !” Josh yelled. “Once they’re on your trail, there’s only one way to lose them!”
Stupid would be staying in that cave with Josh. No way was she letting him anywhere near her now. Megan crawled on. The air smelled of water, and dampness soaked through her jeans. Josh kept calling after her, but he didn’t follow.
The dim light of the cave gave way to inky darkness. Megan continued forward, faster now, the wet rocks scraping her palms as the tunnel sloped upwards.
She crashed, head-first, into solid stone. Cursing, Megan fell backwards, rubbing one hand over her skull, where a bump rose beneath her fingers. She reached forward and felt a stone wall. What was she supposed to do now?
She reached up. The ceiling was higher now, beyond the reach of her fingertips. She took a deep breath, stood, and ran her hands along the wall. At the edges of her reach the stone fell away to either side. The wall wasn’t the end of the tunnel, only a fork in it. The tunnel continued on ahead of her, left and right.
Megan blinked in the darkness, as if that could help her decide which way to go. From the left, a damp breeze brushed her cheek, carrying the smell of mud and leaves and outside things.
Okay then. Megan turned left and felt her way forward once more. The tunnel tightened around her, forcing her to return to crawling. A rock caught on her T-shirt, and she felt the fabric tear as she made her way onto her stomach. Another rock cut into her bare arm as she wriggled forward.
The tunnel bent, and bent again, and then all at once sharp light hit Megan’s eyes. She found her way back to hands and knees as she clambered out of the tunnel, into sunlight that stabbed her sight like daggers. She forced herself to look around as she got to her feet, breathing the open air. A light breeze dried the bleeding gash in her arm.
She stood on top of the same outcrop she and Josh had retreated beneath. Ahead of her, that outcrop dropped sharply back to the forest floor and the cave opening, while to her right the stone fell away gently enough to walk down it to the ground. To her left and behind her, the outcrop rose more steeply to join another, larger rock wall.
The unicorns waited below, at the cave opening. They were quieter now, their gazes cast into the narrow cave opening like they were standing watch. Like they knew they had all the time in the world.
Abruptly one of them looked up, as if it had caught some scent on the wind. Its eyes fixed on Megan, and it threw back its head to let out a high nicker that froze her bones as surely as the howls had. The unicorn turned abruptly away and trotted around the outcrop, toward the path up the stone—toward Megan. The others followed, branches snapping beneath their hooves.
Megan glanced frantically back into the cave. No way was she returning to Josh.
That left her only one choice. She turned to the steep drop ahead of her and, hooking her arms over the top of the outcrop, she began to climb down. Her scraped hands throbbed as she fumbled for handholds, and her feet sent rocks skittering to the ground as she found footholds, but she just kept climbing. If she was fast enough, maybe she could make it back to Josh’s truck. If she got really lucky, maybe he’d even left the doors unlocked.
A stone gave way beneath her foot. Megan cried out as she fell the last few inches to the ground. Pain shot through her knee as her leg twisted.
Her cry was echoed by a howl up above. Megan stumbled to her feet and looked up.
A unicorn stared down at her from the top of the outcrop, teeth and horn glinting wetly. For an instant, its dark eyes held her, even as terror knotted her stomach. The other unicorns trotted up behind it, howling as well.
Megan whirled away from the creatures, and she ran once more. Branches caught in her hair as she crashed through them, and something sharp slashed across her cheek. Pain coursed through her knee. Don’t give out now, she thought desperately as she found the trail and followed it. Not now.
Hooves pounded over the earth behind her as she kept running. Ahead, she caught the glint of Josh’s pickup in the sun. She ran harder, practically throwing herself at the vehicle as she reached the road. She grabbed the door handle.
It was unlocked. Megan threw herself into the truck and pulled the door shut behind her. She’d been hoping Josh had left his keys inside, too, but she wasn’t that lucky.
Outside the hooves and the howling grew louder, as loud as the blood roaring in Megan’s ears. The largest unicorn threw itself at the truck. Glass shattered, and Megan ducked out of the way of its jabbing horn. She knew then, knew down to her bones, that she really could be killed by a herd of freaking unicorns.
Time for plan B. The unicorn withdrew, just for an instant. Heart pounding, Megan grabbed Josh’s rifle from behind the seat and flung herself out the passenger door. Behind her, she heard the crunch of crumpling metal.
When she looked back, the largest unicorn had gotten its forequarters through the ruined door. A second unicorn tore at the radiator grill, foam dripping from its mouth. Megan turned at a sound behind her, just in time to see the third unicorn charging straight at her.
Megan removed the safety, lifted the rifle, and fired.
She hit the unicorn square in the chest. It reared and crumpled, as surely as the metal door had. There was a quiet sound, like the chiming of bells, and then the creature lay motionless in the mud.
Megan reloaded and spun back to the other unicorns. For a moment they both stared at her over the truck’s hood, utterly still. The larger one lifted its head and sniffed the air. Megan took aim.
Both unicorns wheeled and bolted into the forest, leaving Megan’s shot to fly harmlessly through the trees.
Megan remained there, rifle to her shoulder, waiting until she was sure they were gone. Only then did she return to the unicorn she’d shot. Its blood puddled in the mud, and its eyes had rolled back to show the whites. Its horn still shone though, ice-bright in the sun, and no mud stained its silky white hide. Even now, Megan ached to bury her hands in the unicorn’s cloud-soft mane. Even dead, it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen.
And she’d killed it. She’d killed it.
“It’s not like I had a choice,” she said aloud. The unicorn would have killed her if she hadn’t.
But it was still beautiful.
Megan’s legs began to tremble. She collapsed into the mud beside the unicorn, and it was a long time before she could stop shaking.
* * *
It was until near sunset when Megan limped out of the forest and into the field behind Carrie’s house. Every step sent pain through her knee, but she just kept walking. Her jeans were torn and caked with mud, her face and arms scraped and bleeding from countless tree branches. The rifle, hanging from its strap over her shoulder, kept bumping her hip, but no way was Megan putting it down, just in case the unicorns hadn’t given up after all. Even now, she started at every snapping branch, every rustling leaf.
She should have stuck to the road, not the trail she’d found running parallel to it through the woods. But taking the road might have meant meeting up with Josh, assuming his truck was still drivable, and if she met up with Josh—well, Megan didn’t trust herself not to shoot him, too.
Megan hesitated as she reached Carrie’s back door, then left the gun propped outside before heading in.
Carrie sat alone on the living room couch. She looked up as Megan entered the room, and her eyes grew huge.
“Megan?” Carrie’s voice squeaked as she stumbled to her feet. She threw herself across the room to grab Megan into a hug.
Megan winced as she pulled away. Her whole body ached. She took in Carrie’s splotchy, tear-streaked face. “You look awful,” she told her cousin.
“I look awful?” Carrie stared back at Megan, and Megan couldn’t tell whether Carrie was about to laugh or to cry. She did neither, just took Megan’s hand and led her gently to her couch. Megan sank gratefully down into its cushions, wondering distantly whether her aunt and uncle would be angry if she got blood on them. Where were they, anyway?
“Mom and Dad went out looking for you,” Carrie said, as if guessing her thoughts. “After Josh came back, with what was left of the truck ...” Carrie looked like she might cry after all. “What’d you leave the cave for? You should have stayed safe inside.”
“The unicorns would have waited.” Megan was suddenly so very tired. “Josh even said so.”
“Then you should have ...” Carrie began.
“Should have what?” Megan cut her cousin off. “Slept with Josh? What kind of an idiot would do that?”
Carrie flinched, as if Megan had struck her. “Things are different here.” She wouldn’t meet Megan’s eyes. “Wait a minute. I’m getting the first aid kit.” She fled the room.
“I’m fine !” Megan called after her, but Carrie ignored her and returned a few moments later with the kit. She poured some alcohol onto a gauze pad as sat beside her cousin and began dabbing at her scratched-up arms. The liquid stung, hot as fire, but Megan let her. What was a bit of alcohol, or being stuck in some small town for the summer, compared to facing down a herd of killer unicorns?
“It’s my fault,” Carrie said as she worked. “I should have told you, but ...” Carrie hesitated, pressed on. “Well, up here we take care of this sort of thing before it becomes a problem.”
What did she mean, take care of it? Megan watched her cousin unwrap an extra-large bandaid. I’m not scared for me, Carrie had said, and Megan hadn’t understood.
All at once, she got it. Got, too, why Carrie didn’t want to talk about Josh. “Carrie, you and Josh didn’t ... just because ...”
“It’s no big deal.” Carrie pressed the bandaid over some particularly deep scrapes on Megan’s arms. “It’s not like I didn’t agree, or didn’t know what I was doing when I went in with him.”
“The hell it isn’t a big deal.” Megan shrugged off another bandaid and grabbed her cousin’s arms. Carrie might live in a nowhere town, she might not understand Megan or her three-hundred-miles-away-from-here life, but she still deserved better that this. “Carrie, I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”
“Forget it,” Carrie said, but she still wouldn’t look at Megan. “Let me have a look at that leg. You were limping when you came in.”
Megan wouldn’t forget it. She peeled off her jeans. Maybe better began with how Megan treated her cousin.
Beneath the jeans, Megan’s knee was a scraped and bloody mess. She gritted her teeth as Carrie cleaned it. Just let Josh try to touch either of them again. They’d have to drag his body away by the time Megan was through.
Megan thought about the unicorn, bleeding to death at her feet. Carrie had been right, it was dangerous, but it was beautiful, too, beautiful even as its blood had soaked into the mud.
But just let another unicorn try to get anywhere near her. It would meet the same fate Josh would. Hell, Josh was beautiful too, if it came down to that. Beautiful things weren’t always safe or tame.
Up here we shoot things that move.
“Carrie,” Megan said, “do you think your Dad would still take us hunting?”
Carrie shook her head as she wrapped gauze around Megan’s knee. “Deer aren’t in season. And it isn’t safe now, especially for you.” Carrie rolled her eyes. “Don’t you finally get that?”
Oh, Megan got it. She totally got it.
“I’m not talking about deer.” A slow, grim smile crossed her face. “I’m talking about unicorns. I think unicorns are in season right now. Don’t you?”