A low moan sounded from somewhere in the trees and she tensed, hunkering down and cowering amongst the decaying pine needles. Her brown hair swung across her face in a nest of matted curls. Liz screwed her eyes tightly shut and waited, breathing hard. She heard the moan again but it sounded further away. It was accompanied by a high-pitched scream far off in the distance and a crashing of underbrush. Liz couldn’t tell how far away the noises were, sound traveled oddly here in the mountains, especially when it rained.
A loud peal of thunder crashed overhead and Liz covered her mouth to stifle a shriek. She felt a sudden and profound longing for her room and her daddy. Mom had left them years before, riding away in a big white ambulance. Dad said that she was going away to rest and they would see her in a couple of weeks, but things hadn’t worked out that way. Liz’s mom had never come home and she and Daddy hadn’t ever talked about it. Life had gone on, but Liz never felt the same without her, even if there had been times when Mommy couldn’t get out of bed and couldn’t speak. Liz had felt better with her there all the same.
The thunder boomed again and Liz screamed, unable to stop the outburst. Lightning hit the tree behind her, brightening the sky like noontime. The tree was enveloped in a large conflagration, flames shooting into the sky. A branch fell with a resounding crash and Liz felt heat on her back. She ran, pelting into the clearing with the cabin and, heedless of the consequences, began banging on the door with her fist.
“Help me!” she screamed, hitting the door. Her fist was small and very pale as it smacked the boards. The door was sturdy and Liz was petite for thirteen but in her terror she was strong. She pounded on the wood until she heard footsteps on the other side. A dog barked and scratched the inside of the door, but that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but getting inside and finding someone to keep her safe. Her father’s face flashed through her mind. Strong boned and heavily bearded, her father had been a fierce man and protected his daughter in all things. Except in the end. He had been knocked down by a police officer. The man in blue had been crazed and bloody and Liz had bolted. She looked back only once and saw the man latched on to her father’s muscular arm, shaking it like a dog. Her father had screamed for her to run and she did, not turning around again.
The door opened to frame a man and a woman. The woman was covered in tattoos and held back a large dog.
“What the …?” the man asked, staring at Liz like she’d just grown a second head.
“Take Rocky,” the woman said. Handing the still barking dog off, she hunkered down in front of Liz. “Where did you come from?” she asked, concern evident in her face. She looked up and her eyes widened at the sight of the fire.
Liz glanced at the conflagration and saw that it was already going out, subdued beneath the omnipresent rain.
The culminating events of the past weeks caught up with Liz and she swayed on her feet. Opening her mouth to speak, Liz’s eyes rolled back into her head and her knees buckled. The world swam in streamers of darkness and light. She felt herself fall to the ground and vaguely heard voices that she couldn’t make out. Then there was nothing.
Raven
“Lay her down here,” Raven said, gesturing to the couch. She’d laid an old blanket down and Henry placed the kid on top of it.
She took off the girl’s sweatshirt and examined her for bite marks. Finding none, Raven let out a sigh of relief.
“How did she get all the way up here, I wonder.” Henry asked. He wrapped his hands around the girl’s bare feet. “She’s freezing,” he said, rubbing the cold flesh.
“Put another log on the fire,” Raven directed, feeling for the girl’s pulse. It thumped strong and steady beneath her touch. She heard the crackle of the fire as Henry plopped a log on. “Grab the medical supplies,” she instructed her brother.
Henry hustled from the room. Raven heard him rummaging in the kitchen, doing what she asked. She looked down at the girl. The muscles in her face were relaxed with unconsciousness, lips parted and breath coming regularly. Raven had been reassured by the girl’s steady pulse but was worried that she may have hypothermia. She felt her forehead and it was cold. Raven tutted and took off the girl’s wet clothes, leaving her undergarments on as they were fairly clean and wrapped her in the orange afghan.
“Bring another blanket,” she hollered to her brother.
The girl did not stir but a small moan escaped her lips.
“How old are you?” Raven wondered aloud, tucking the girl’s curls behind her ear. “Twelve would be my guess.” She shuddered to think how a girl so young had survived all this time.
“Here,” Henry said, walking back into the room holding Raven’s medical bag and a goose down quilt. “I found this in the closet. There’re more too.”
Raven took the quilt from him and covered the girl with it, tucking the edges in around her slim body.
“Poor thing,” Henry said, setting the bag down. “How did she get all the way out here?”
“I was wondering the same thing,” Raven sighed. She opened her bag and pulled out a hot compress. It was a plastic bag
