For the first time, Mary-Lynnette wondered if it was too light to be a body. Or too stiff ... how longdid rigor mortis last?
Mark's breathing was irregular, almost wheezing.The girls were carrying the bundle to the gap inthe hedge.
Mark cursed.
Mary-Lynnette's brain was racing. She hissed,"Mark, stay here. I'm going to follow them-"
"I'm going with you!"
"You have to tell Dad if anything happens to me-"
"I'm going withyou."
There wasn't time to argue. And something inside Mary-Lynnette was glad to have Mark's strength to back her.
She gasped, "Come on, then. And don't make asound."
She was worried they might have already lost the sisters--it was such a dark night. But when she and Mark squeezed through the gap in the rhododendron bushes, she saw a light ahead. A tiny, bobbing white light. The sisters were using a flashlight.
Keep quiet, move carefully. Mary-Lynnette didn'tdare say it out loud to Mark, but she kept thinking it over and over, like a mantra. Her whole consciousness was fixed on the little shaft of light that was leading them, like a comet's tail in the darkness.
The light took them south, into a stand of Douglasfir. It wasn't long before they were walking into forest.
Where are they going? Mary-Lynnette thought. She could feel fine tremors in her muscles as she tried to move as quickly as possible without making a sound. They were lucky--the floor of this forest was carpeted with needles from Douglas fir and Ponderosa pine. The needles were fragrant and slightly damp and they muffled footsteps. Mary-Lynnette could hardly hear Mark walking behind her except when he hurt himself.
They went on for what seemed like forever. It was pitch dark and Mary-Lynnette very quickly lost any sense of where they were. Or how they were going to get back.
Oh, God, I was crazy to do this-and to bring Markalong, too. We're out in the middle of the woodswith three crazy girls....
The light had stopped.
Mary-Lynnette stopped, holding out an arm thatMark immediately ran into. She was staring at thelight, trying to make sure it really wasn't moving away.
No. It was steady. It was pointed at the ground.
"Let's get loser," Mark whispered, putting his lips against Mary-Lynnette's ear. She nodded and began to creep toward the light, as slowly and silently asshe knew how. Every few steps she paused and stood absolutely still, waiting to see if the light was going to turn her way.
It didn't. She got down and crawled the last ten feet to the edge of the clearing where the girls had stopped. Once there, she had a good view of what they were doing.
Digging. Kestrel had shoveled the pine needles aside and was working on a hole.
Mary-Lynnette felt Mark crawl up beside her,crushing sword fern and woodfem. She could feel his chest heaving. She knew he saw what she saw.
I'm so sorry. Oh, Mark, I'm so sorry.
There was no way to deny it now. Mary-Lynnetteknew. She didn't even need to look in the bag.
How am I going to find this place again? When I bring the sheriff back, how am I going to remember it?
It's like a maze in one of those computer fantasy games-Mixed Evergreen Forest in every direction,and nothing to distinguish any bit of it from any other bit.
She chewed her lip. The bed of moist needles she was lying on was soft and springy-actually comfortable. They could wait here for a long time, until the sisters left, and then mark the trees somehow.
Takephotographs. Tie their socks to branches.
In the clearing the flashlight beam showed a hand putting down the shovel. Then Rowan and Kestrellifted the garbage-bagged bundle-Jade must beholding the flashlight, Mary-Lynnette thought-and lowered it into the hole.
Good. Now cover it up and leave.
The beam showed Rowan bending to pick up the shovel again. She began quickly covering the hole with dirt. Mary-Lynnette was happy. Over soon, she thought, and let out a soft breath of relief.
And in that instant everything in the clearingchanged.
The flashlight beam swung wildly. Mary-Lynnette flattened herself, feeling her eyes widen. She could see a silhouette against the light-golden hair haloed around the face. Kestrel. Kestrel was standing, facing Mark and Mary-Lynnette, her body tense and still. Listening. Listening.
Mary-Lynnette lay absolutely motionless, mouthopen, trying to breathe without making a soundThere were things crawling in the soft, springy needlebed under her. Centipedes and millipedes. She didn'tdare move even when she felt something tickle acrossher back under her shirt.
Her own ears rang from listening. But the forest was silent ... eerily dent. All Mary-Lynnette couldhear was her own heart pounding wildly in herchest-although ft felt as if it were in her throat, too.It made her head bob with its rhythm.
She was afraid.
And it wasn't just fear. It was something shecouldn't remember experiencing since she was nineor ten.
Ghost fear. The fear of something you're not even sure exists.
Somehow, watching Kestrel's silhouette In the dark woods, Mary-Lynnette was afraid of monsters.She had aterrible,terrible feeling.
Oh, please--I shouldn't have brought Mark here.
It was then that she realized that Mark's breathing was making a noise. Just a faint sound, not a whistling, more like a cat purring. It was the sound he'd made as a kid when his lungs were bad.
Kestrel stiffened, her head turning, as if to locate a noise.
Oh, Mark, no. Don't breathe. Hold your breath-Everything happened very fast.
Kestrel sprang forward. Mary-Lynnette saw her silhouette come running and jumping with unbelievable speed. Toofast-nobody moves thatfast .. .
nobody human....
What are these girls?
Her vision came in flashes,as if she were under a strobe light. Kestrel jumping. Dark trees all around. a moth caught in the beam.
Kestrel coming down.
Protect mark...
A deer. Kestrel was coming down on a deer. Mary-Lynnette's mind was filled with jumbled, careening images. Images that didn't make sense. She had a wild thought that it wasn't Kestrel at all, but one of those raptor dinosaurs she'd seen at the movies. Because Kestrel moved like that.
Or maybe ftwasn't a deer-but Mary-Lynnette could seethe white at its throat, as pure as a lace ruffle at the throat of a young girl. She could see itsliquid black eyes.
The deer screamed.
Disbelief.
I can't be seeing this....
The deer was on the ground, delicate legs thrashing. And Kestrel was tangled with it. Her face buriedin the white of its throat. Her arms around it.