time she had tried dropping acid. In a moment she would wake up and find herself safe in bed back in the rambling Lancaster Avenue house, the smell of coffee and frying eggs rich in the air.
But, as the chill air dried her sweat, and she began to shiver, she realized that this was reality; that Maggie lay dead up the mountain. Her weeping ceased. She had to think.
She was safe here. But night was coming on. She had to get down to the ranger station, down to other living human beings.
In a minute. Let me count to a hundred, and then I'll start down.
She had reached twenty-nine in her mumbled litany of numbers when the wall behind her gave a tippling motion and crashed inward, scattering broken boards across the single room of the cabin.
June started to scream, but the air was caught in her lungs and wouldn't come out. Her mind refused to believe this second assault. It spun away from her, retreating into fantasy.
Slowly, she stood and began to walk toward the closed door. Her voice came from a great distance. "I'm going home," she said. "It's time I went home."
She, mercifully, did not feel the giant claws as they ripped a huge chunk of flesh from her back. The impact staggered her, but the essence of spirit, of intelligence, that was really June Hamilton had escaped back to a warm bedroom where the aroma of coffee called her downstairs to breakfast.
When the second, destroying blow came, she was still walking slowly toward that remembered morning long ago.
Tom Cooper frowned at the low angle of the sun and walked over to where Aliison and Kelly were working.
"Kelly?"
"Yeah?"
"I think I'd better take the jeep up to R-Four."
"That's horse country."
"No time. I know a way to get up. I've got a couple of missing campers. Two girls, I saw them around noon and they said they'd be down before dusk."
Kelly squinted at the golden sun, balanced like a ripe orange on top of the spruces. Allison caught the moment with a click of her shutter.
"They'll never make it now," Kelly said. "The sun's already sitting on the hilltops."
"They're nice kids," said Tom. "Maybe they took a wrong turn and ended up over in Beaver Valley. It'd be a shame if they had to set up a dry camp."
Kelly looked at his watch.
"We've got about half an hour. Okay, the jeep it is. And if you tear up the transmission, it comes out of your check."
"Can I come?" asked Allison, reloading her camera. "It sounds like fun."
"Sure," said Kelly, starting for the jeep. "It'll be nice to see you taking pictures of somebody else for a change."
The beast climbed the mountain slowly. The ache of hunger had abated.
Perhaps this side of the divide was a good place after all. Although the beast did not think in logical symbols, he had become aware that there was a new kind of food to be found here, food that was easy to acquire.
Even the pain from the shattered tooth had receded. He would find a place to sleep, and in the morning he would begin marking his territorial limits.
But now, back at the place where he had found the first food, there was something he must do.
"Let's hit Beaver Valley first." said Kelly, at the wheel of the jeep, laboring up the trail which was little more than two ruts in the rock-littered slope. "If they went down that way, chances are they holed up in that old line shack."
"The light's going," Allison complained. "I'm going to have to switch to black and white."
Kelly grinned. "That must take all the joy out of it."
"We'll see," she said. "Some people think black and white is the real test of a photographer."
Tom Cooper pointed to a slashed blaze on a small birch tree. "In that way," he said. "It's a short cut."
"Oh?" said Kelly. "Who's been blazing our timber?"
"Search me," Tom said innocently. "All I know is that's the shortest way to the line shack."
"You'd be the one to know," Kelly said. But he made the turn.
The road ended just below the weather-beaten shack. As they pulled up, Allison took several quick shots of it,
But, as the chill air dried her sweat, and she began to shiver, she realized that this was reality; that Maggie lay dead up the mountain. Her weeping ceased. She had to think.
She was safe here. But night was coming on. She had to get down to the ranger station, down to other living human beings.
In a minute. Let me count to a hundred, and then I'll start down.
She had reached twenty-nine in her mumbled litany of numbers when the wall behind her gave a tippling motion and crashed inward, scattering broken boards across the single room of the cabin.
June started to scream, but the air was caught in her lungs and wouldn't come out. Her mind refused to believe this second assault. It spun away from her, retreating into fantasy.
Slowly, she stood and began to walk toward the closed door. Her voice came from a great distance. "I'm going home," she said. "It's time I went home."
She, mercifully, did not feel the giant claws as they ripped a huge chunk of flesh from her back. The impact staggered her, but the essence of spirit, of intelligence, that was really June Hamilton had escaped back to a warm bedroom where the aroma of coffee called her downstairs to breakfast.
When the second, destroying blow came, she was still walking slowly toward that remembered morning long ago.
Tom Cooper frowned at the low angle of the sun and walked over to where Aliison and Kelly were working.
"Kelly?"
"Yeah?"
"I think I'd better take the jeep up to R-Four."
"That's horse country."
"No time. I know a way to get up. I've got a couple of missing campers. Two girls, I saw them around noon and they said they'd be down before dusk."
Kelly squinted at the golden sun, balanced like a ripe orange on top of the spruces. Allison caught the moment with a click of her shutter.
"They'll never make it now," Kelly said. "The sun's already sitting on the hilltops."
"They're nice kids," said Tom. "Maybe they took a wrong turn and ended up over in Beaver Valley. It'd be a shame if they had to set up a dry camp."
Kelly looked at his watch.
"We've got about half an hour. Okay, the jeep it is. And if you tear up the transmission, it comes out of your check."
"Can I come?" asked Allison, reloading her camera. "It sounds like fun."
"Sure," said Kelly, starting for the jeep. "It'll be nice to see you taking pictures of somebody else for a change."
The beast climbed the mountain slowly. The ache of hunger had abated.
Perhaps this side of the divide was a good place after all. Although the beast did not think in logical symbols, he had become aware that there was a new kind of food to be found here, food that was easy to acquire.
Even the pain from the shattered tooth had receded. He would find a place to sleep, and in the morning he would begin marking his territorial limits.
But now, back at the place where he had found the first food, there was something he must do.
"Let's hit Beaver Valley first." said Kelly, at the wheel of the jeep, laboring up the trail which was little more than two ruts in the rock-littered slope. "If they went down that way, chances are they holed up in that old line shack."
"The light's going," Allison complained. "I'm going to have to switch to black and white."
Kelly grinned. "That must take all the joy out of it."
"We'll see," she said. "Some people think black and white is the real test of a photographer."
Tom Cooper pointed to a slashed blaze on a small birch tree. "In that way," he said. "It's a short cut."
"Oh?" said Kelly. "Who's been blazing our timber?"
"Search me," Tom said innocently. "All I know is that's the shortest way to the line shack."
"You'd be the one to know," Kelly said. But he made the turn.
The road ended just below the weather-beaten shack. As they pulled up, Allison took several quick shots of it,
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