The Angry Intruder by Catherine Marshall

Author:Catherine Marshall
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gilead Publishing
Published: 2018-11-05T16:00:00+00:00

The figure moved closer and closer.

Christy backed against the pine. Her heart hammered in her chest. Her fists were clenched.

“Miz Christy, don’t be scared. It’s me.”

Christy blinked. She didn’t recognize the boy’s voice. But she did recognize the red cap.

“Zach Holt?” she asked in a trembling voice. “Is that you, Zach?”

The little boy came close and extended his hand. Even in near darkness, she could see that his forehead was beaded with sweat. Pine needles stuck to his ragged, patched coat. A small stick was caught on his cap.

“Zach, what are you doing here? You weren’t . . . following me, were you?”

“Me?” Zach cried. “No’m. Not me. I was just—” He hesitated. “I was just out huntin’ possum.”

“With your bare hands?”

Zach swallowed. “It’s a special trick my pa taught me,” he said quickly. “You corner ’em, and then when they play possum—you know, all curled up like they’s dead—you whomp ’em on the head with a stick.”

“I see.” Christy crossed her arms over her chest. Now that her fear was fading, she was left with far too many questions. “I heard noises before,” she said. “Branches cracking, that sort of thing. It sounded like somebody was following me.”

With great care, Zach examined some pine needles on his coat.

“And I heard a wolf. At least, I thought it was a wolf.”

“Coulda been.” Zach nodded. “There’s lots of wolves around these here parts. They get real mean this time of year. Hungry too.”

Christy nudged the dead rat on the ground with her toe. “Are there lots of tree rats in the area too?”

Zach gulped. “Tree rats? Ain’t never heard of no tree rats, ma’am.”

“I haven’t, either. So how do you explain this one? It fell out of this pine tree. And nearly scared me to death, I might add.”

Zach glanced up quickly at the upper branches of the tree, then met Christy’s eyes. “Just can’t mortally explain it, Miz Christy.”

Christy stared up at the tree. She saw nothing but a blur of dark branches.

“Could be that’s not a ground rat, factually speaking,” Zach suggested. “Could be one of them there flyin’ rats.”

“Ah. Those must be very rare. I’ve never heard of them.”

“Well, you’re from the city. Ain’t no flyin’ rats in the city. They hate cars and such.”

“I see.”

“You heard of flyin’ squirrels?”

“Yes. Now that you mention it, I believe I have.” Christy tried not to smile. She was torn between her anger at having been scared and her amusement at Zach’s desperate attempt to explain the rat.

“Flyin’ rats is the same thing. Only instead of big fuzzy tails, they got scrawny ones.”

“Well, then. Thank you for clearing that up, Zach.”

He pointed to the top of the ridge. “If’n you like, I could walk you the rest of the way home.”

“Actually, I’m more worried about you getting home, safe and sound.”

“Oh, don’t fret about me none. I got company—” Zach swallowed hard. “What I mean to say is I got me the stars and the trees for company. I know these woods like the back of my own hand, anyways.

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