Are You Afraid of the Dark? by Seth C. Adams

Are You Afraid of the Dark? by Seth C. Adams

Author:Seth C. Adams
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers
Published: 2019-06-20T17:00:00+00:00


CHAPTER EIGHT

1.

Bumblebee snores not unlike his mom’s let Reggie know when it was safe to get up. The sleeping bag hugged him snugly and made his worm-like motions to slide out difficult and awkward. When he was out of it, he rose to a crouch and looked about the campsite at the other three sleeping forms.

The campfire was down to embers, but the men had left their lanterns burning low. In the dim light, with the full moon above, Reggie could make out forms and shapes in some detail.

All three men had their shotguns nestled beside them, like little babies with comfort toys. Reggie eyed the smallest of the three, thinking if there was a struggle he had the best shot at wresting the gun from that man.

But then the trees about them moved. Pushed aside like stalks in a field. A deep rumble-roar accompanied the slap falls of monstrous feet. Twin yellow orbs like headlights blinking to life swept the camp.

Only yards from him, the enormity of the thing melting away from the rest of the night froze Reggie in terror. A shadow from the other shadows, the mountain lion seemed not a mere animal, but something otherworldly, a dark emissary crossing the space between realities. Emerging from the woods nearest the smallest bundled man, it stood over him, eclipsed him.

The beast chuffed and sniffed at the sleeping form. Little plumes of mist puffed from its nostrils like dragon’s breath.

Reggie wanted to cry out, wanted to warn the man, and at the same time that was the last thing he wanted to do. Lest those glowing eyes turn upon him.

In his terror, his mother’s words of caution from days ago came back to Reggie: You have to be careful out there, Reggie. There’s coyotes, bobcats, mountain lions.

Now they seemed not merely motherly words of caution, but a warning, a threat. Something that would most definitely happen to stubborn, disobedient boys who disrespected their moms.

The bundled, sleeping figure stirred.

The beast pounced.

There was a scream unlike anything Reggie had ever heard. The man who’d given him hot chocolate earlier in the night was swung side to side like laundry being shook out, up and down, his head caught between massive paws like catcher’s mitts. There was a crunch and snap like twigs broken underfoot as the monstrous cat’s head darted forward, the jaws grasped, and the teeth clenched.

The other two men snapped awake. They bolted up from the tangles of their bedrolls. They grasped their shotguns. Turned, sought the source of the thrashing, aimed.

They were too slow.

A tearing, ripping sound joined the crunching and snapping under the thing’s paws. The smaller man’s screams rose an octave, transitioning from scream to shriek, lowered to become a brief whimper, and then ceased altogether.

Somehow Reggie stirred himself to motion, found his pack, opened it, found the flashlight, and turned it on, aiming at the struggle before him. He saw the thick hide, torn and battle marred. He saw claws like daggers, painted red. The jaws worked like a machine, showing teeth as large as spikes from wrought-iron fences.



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