Monster by Frank Peretti Read Free Book Online

half to cause terror. Would nothing chase this thing away?
    The shadow moved so fast he lost it. He searched, waved his light about. It caught one fleeting image of his wife’s body swept up like a toy, arms limp, long brown hair flying.
    The shadow enfolded her like a blanket. There were heavy, bass-note footfalls up the bank, and then . . .
    Nothing.

three
    Reed dashed across the stream, frantic, shining his light in every direction but seeing only thick, tangled forest. The stream and waterfall made so much noise he couldn’t hear anything else. He got out of there, clambering up the other side, only guessing which way that thing went.
    “Beck!” he called.
    No answer.
    But she wasn’t dead. No. He would not allow himself to think that. She was alive and breathing, and any moment she was going to hear his call and answer. If she screamed for help, he would hear her.
    Think, he told himself. Don’t panic. You can’t see much at all, but can you hear anything? Can you smell anything?
    There! He heard limbs snapping farther up the slope. He raced along the trail, probing with his flashlight. A broken tree limb! Then another! He slipped out of his pack and dove into the trees, probing, climbing, looking for signs, listening, then calling.
    From deep in his mind came a warning: You have no gun. No weapon. You need to find something—
    Another rustling sound grabbed his attention and spurred him upward. He found a game trail where the ground was disturbed by hoofprints of elk and deer. Among these prints he found a deep, half-round impression, perhaps a heel print. With new strength he climbed, and then traversed the slope, then zigzagged as he lost, then found, then lost the game trail. With the trail gone, he followed sounds, any sound.
    “Beck!” The forest swallowed his voice.
    He hurried, he struggled, he climbed, he doubled back, he climbed again, then descended, then climbed, until fear and desperation gave way to exhaustion and he began to realize that he was like a mite in a carpet. As loud as he might call, this wilderness stretched farther than his voice could reach. The light from his flashlight had dimmed to a dull orange glow, but the mountains had darkness to spare, plenty to swallow up any light.
    The seconds had stacked up and become minutes; the minutes had stretched into hours. Steps had become yards, and yards had become miles, but the forest had not shrunk. It was still bigger than he could ever be, with more obstacles, tangles, confusion, and dark, dark, dark!
    When he broke into a meadow where the stars were visible and a waning moon was finally rising, he collapsed to the ground with a quiet whimper, limp and totally spent, head hanging, conflicting thoughts bantering in his head.
    She’s gone .
    No, no, she isn’t. Just have to find her, that’s all.
    Where? Where could you even start looking?
    Well, some daylight would sure help.
    She’ll be somebody’s dinner by then.
    No. God won’t let that happen.
    Look at what He’s already let happen! Remember where you are! There are different rules out here!
    Reed’s hands went to his head as if he could corral his thoughts. His aimless thrashing around in the woods for hours had accomplished nothing; a mad and frenzied mind would accomplish even less. He forced himself to lie still, breathing for breathing’s sake until he could construct a coherent thought.
    First coherent thought: He hadn’t found his wife.
    Second coherent thought: In all his mad scrambling and searching, he could have wandered farther from her, not closer.
    Third coherent thought: He’d become part of the problem. He was lost, without provisions, without a weapon.
    He still had his map and compass. If the sun ever came up again sometime in his life, he could take a look around and hopefully get his bearings. For now, he was too tired and emotionally spent to work it out, and any more wandering would only make things worse. Until he got some rest and some real light, he