Monsters in the Fog by Keith Robinson

Author:Keith Robinson [Robinson, Keith]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Action & Adventure, Boys, Fantasy, Magic, Young Adult
Publisher: Unearthly Tales
Published: 2015-07-28T04:00:00+00:00

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Fear coursed through him. He couldn’t explain it, but when he saw the trees in the gloom seventy feet away at the far end of the grassy yard, he sprinted for them with an urgency he’d never experienced before. They looked . . . safe.

Rain hammered him as he ran, and he was drenched in seconds. It was far wetter and windier out here than he’d realized.

He spotted the huge shape of the barn off to his right. Filled with supplies, it was off limits to all but the moms and dads. His friends had often talked about sneaking in for a look-see, and some of them probably had been inside. Hal and Robbie, for instance, had gone into great detail about the small door at the back that had a rusted window frame; they always popped the glass out of the frame and set it aside, then put it all back together when they were done to keep their breaking and entering a secret.

Dewey didn’t want to go to the barn, though. He wanted the safety of the trees.

As he stood under one of them, with fat droplets of rain smacking the ground and gusts of wind buffeting him, he thought how easy it would be to build a shelter right here in the woods. A few sturdy branches hoisted up and secured to form a framework for a roof, then smaller branches and straw to complete a rainproof canopy . . . Heck, the shelter could stretch a long way, and he could literally walk about undercover during the worst storms. True, a tree or two might fall in the wind, but he couldn’t remember the last time any of his clan had gotten hurt—

He blinked. Any of his clan?

Whatever train of thought had gripped him for the past minute slipped away like a dream. He wasn’t sure where he’d gotten the idea of building a shelter in the trees, or indeed why he’d want to do such a thing, but he guessed he’d dredged up some memory from school—one of Mrs. Hunter’s boring talks about the way people used to live in the Stone Age, or something like that.

Or was it a memory from his earlier childhood? Had he lived under a shelter in the trees at some point in his life? If so, it had been many years ago, and he’d forgotten until just now . . .

He heard a twig crack and spun around.

With the noise of the blustery wind, lashing rain, and rustling bushes, the relatively minor sound of a cracking twig shouldn’t have spooked him the way it did. But he instinctively knew someone or something was out here with him.

Probably a fox or groundhog, he told himself.

He started to turn away when another twig cracked, and this time he heard a stifled, deep-voiced grunt, the sound of an annoyed adult. His dad? It had to be, though why he’d wound up in the woods was a mystery. Then again, the trail he normally used was nearby.

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