Gretel by Christopher Coleman Read Free Book Online Page B

figure out how to harness this newfound talent and sustain it.
    The dreamlike concept turned to alert curiosity, and Anika opened her eyes to find herself lying in darkness on the ground in her “resting” spot. She wasn’t sleepwalking, she was just sleeping. Mud and branches stuck to the side of her nose and lips, and something insectile quickly crawled its way up from the hairline at the back of her head toward the top of her scalp.
    She scrambled to her feet and looked around, frantically ruffling her hair, trying in consternation both to rid herself of the parasite now nestled in her hair and to identify the potentially larger threat on the perimeter. Anika’s slumbered eyes adjusted slowly to the night, and the once-bright moon had temporarily withdrawn behind a stray cloud cluster, making even the black forms of the trees virtually invisible. She was blind, and something was stalking her.
    Her first thought was to climb, to locate the closest tree—fallen or otherwise—and get as high as possible. She was no great athlete, but she trusted her abilities given the situation. Besides, running was out of the question, since virtually any animal that she could think of would catch her easily before she took more than a few strides.
    But if she were to get some height, Anika thought, maybe she could buy some time. Jab at whatever was after her with a stick or something and frustrate it until it gave up. Anika thought of wolves. Wolves couldn’t climb trees could they? She’d heard somewhere that bears could, but were there really bears in these parts?
    These initial plans and imaginings ran their course in a matter of seconds, and were quickly replaced with calmer, more reasonable thoughts. Anika now thought it much more likely that whatever was prowling her space was something more common and less deadly than a wolf or bear. A deer or fox perhaps. Maybe a moose. She stood her ground, motionless, now listening with conscious ears for the sound of steps to repeat.
    She waited for what seemed like several minutes and then: Crunch. Crunch. Crunch.
    The patient steps moved to Anika’s left—perhaps ten yards away, maybe less—and then stopped.
    Her guess of a deer now seemed most likely; the steps were heavy and deliberate—not the scurrying movements of a squirrel or rabbit—but not threatening either, secretive and apprehensive.
    Anika breathed out for the first time in what must have been a full minute, and the passing thoughts of small game now made her stomach moan in hunger. She felt only slightly relieved, however, knowing the ‘deer’ could just as easily be one of a dozen other, less docile things, ready to pounce at any moment.
    Anika slowly stooped down, blindly feeling for the largest stick in her immediate confines, which turned out to be a stray branch, two-feet long at most and no thicker than a billiard cue. She grabbed it and stood back up without moving her feet.
    “Hello,” she said softly, mildly aware that she was attempting to talk to what she had convinced herself was a deer.
    The night answered back with only the distant chirping of crickets and the light rustle of the trees’ topmost leaves. The moon had returned to the black sky, and Anika’s eyes adjusted. She could now see the silvery reflection of the branches and rocks that crowded the area. If something large was still there, she would certainly see it when it moved.
    Keeping as still as possible, Anika shifted her eyes from right to left, turning her head just slightly upon reaching the limits of her periphery.
    Crunch! Crunch! Crunch!
    This time the sound was plodding and aggressive with no pretense of stealth. Terrified, Anika turned toward the sound, and saw only a glimpse of something curved and dull smash down on her forehead, catching her brow above her left eye and splitting it like a grape.

CHAPTER FOUR
    It was almost dawn when the Morgan truck pulled back onto the gravel road that led to their cabin, and Gretel’s