He put the flashlight on the ground close to the trap.
“Do you know what you’re doing?” Jen asked. Her voice was strained. Mattie could tell that she was making an enormous effort not to cry out.
“I saw this in a movie once,” he said.
“Oh, great.”
He ignored her comment. “You press down on the springs on either side and it loosens the jaws, but you have to get your leg out fast because I don’t know how much pressure the springs need or how long I’ll be able to hold it.”
Mattie looked at C.P. It was hard to tell with the puffy jacket but he didn’t seem muscle-bound. She didn’t think he’d have enough arm strength to open the springs, and it seemed to her that faster was better. They needed to get Jen out of the trap quickly.
“Stand,” she said.
“What?” he said.
Mattie pointed at the springs. “Stand . . . on . . . it.”
“She’s saying to step on the springs instead of trying to do it with your hands, dope,” Jen said. She sounded stronger, like the act of potentially arguing with C.P. gave her energy.
“Oh. Good idea,” C.P. said.
He stood up and positioned himself in front of the trap.
“Don’t move around,” he said. “I don’t want to make this worse.”
C.P. raised up the toes of his boots in front of each spring and then pushed down on the metal on either side of the jaws.
The teeth loosened so suddenly that Mattie wasn’t ready for it. She’d had an idea that it would be a slow process, but once C.P.’s weight was on the springs, the jaws popped open.
“Pull your leg out!” he cried, but Jen didn’t need telling. She was already freeing herself, pulling away with another cry of pain.
As soon as Jen was loose, C.P. stepped off the trap, which snapped shut again with a clang that seemed to echo all through the woods.
“Oh god,” Jen said. “Oh god, it hurts like hell.”
Then she turned her head away from Mattie and threw up.
“Did that guy put this trap out here?” C.P. asked Mattie.
She noticed how C.P. never called him “William”—always “that guy” or “that nut” or some equivalent. It wasn’t really the right time to ask about this quirk, though.
“Yes,” Mattie said. She wanted to explain that William thought the creature was a demon, and that killing it was a trial sent by God in William’s eyes, but her limited ability to talk made it impossible. Perhaps she could tell them tomorrow.
If we live until tomorrow.
She realized she didn’t feel very certain about this. Griffin had been taken by the monster, and now Jen had been caught in the trap. Jen wouldn’t be able to run or climb or even walk very well with that leg—what Mattie saw of it did not look good.
Mattie herself was hardly at her physical peak—she still bore the bruises and pains from William’s beating and choking her.
One missing and two wounded. Only C.P. is still standing. How are we ever going to get off the mountain like this?
C.P. held his hand out to help Jen stand. She did, whimpering and crying, and leaned heavily on his shoulder. Mattie picked up the flashlight and turned it out again. No point in broadcasting their location any more than they already had.
“Do you think you can walk?” C.P. asked.
“I can’t stay here,” Jen said.
“I think you’re going to need a tetanus shot,” C.P. said.
“I think I’m going to need stitches.”
Jen took a few tentative steps forward with C.P.’s assistance. Mattie didn’t need the flashlight to tell that the result was not good. She heard Jen’s labored breath, the little cry of pain when Jen tried to put weight on her injured leg.
“What about Griffin?” Jen said, and Mattie heard the tears in her voice. “I can’t go after him like this.”
“I’ll go myself,” C.P. said. “Don’t worry about Griffin.”
“You can’t drag him on your own. And the animal might have hurt him.”
“Samantha will help me. Won’t you, Samantha?”
Every time one of them said that name, Samantha, Mattie had to stop herself from correcting them, from saying, “No, my name is Mattie.” Mattie wasn’t her name. Mattie was the name William had forced on her so that she would forget herself.
She realized that they were waiting for her answer. Did she really want to go to the creature’s cave again to find a man that she was fairly certain was already dead? No, she did not. She thought their hope was foolish.
But as long as there’s a chance . . .
And these people had been good to her. They’d helped her. What kind of person would she be if she didn’t help them?
I don’t know what kind of person I am. William took that from me.
“Yes. I’ll . . . go . . . with . . . you,” she said.
“See?” C.P. said to Jen. “We’ll find a good place for you to wait and we’ll find Griffin and come back for you.”
Mattie heard Jen’s indrawn breath, thought that the other woman was about to argue with C.P. as usual. Then another sound intruded.
The crunch of a boot and then a slide through the snow—the unmistakable sound of a person limping.
Thunk-drag-thunk-drag-thunk-drag.
It was coming from the direction of the stream.
Mattie whispered, “William.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The only reason William would be coming from that direction was because he’d been following their tracks. Mattie couldn’t tell how far away he was but the noise made it clear that he moved steadily, if slowly, in their direction.
“Cabin,” she said, pushing Jen and C.P. along the trail. “Hurry.”
Mattie wanted to run, wanted to sprint for the safety of the cabin, wanted to lock the door and pull the curtains shut and huddle under the bed. She realized then that she was more scared of facing William again than the creature in the woods. William was the boogeyman, the monster in her nightmares. William could hurt her far more than the creature ever could.
Thunk-drag-thunk-drag-thunk-drag.
The creature must have hurt William’s leg and that was why
