explosive sound hurt Travis’s ears. The tone of savage fury in its voice was
daunting. The dog was warning the unseen enemy to stay back.
“Easy boy,” Travis said softly. “Easy.”
The retriever stopped barking but did not glance at Travis. It stared intently
into the brush, peeling its pebbly black lips off its teeth and growling deep in
its throat.
Still breathing hard, Travis got to his feet and looked east into the woods.
Evergreens, sycamores, a few larches. Shadows like swatches of dark cloth were
fastened here and there by golden pins and needles of light. Brush. Briars.
Climbing vines. A few well-worn toothlike formations of rock. He saw nothing out
of the ordinary.
When he reached down and put a hand upon the retriever’s head, the dog stopped
growling, as if it understood his intention. Travis drew a breath, held it, and
listened for movement in the brush.
The cicadas remained silent. No birds sang in the trees. The woods were as still
as if the vast, elaborate clockwork mechanism of the universe had ceased
ticking.
He was sure that he was not the cause of the abrupt silence. His passage through
the canyon had not previously disturbed either birds or cicadas.
Something was out there. An intruder of which the ordinary forest creatures
clearly did not approve.
He took a deep breath and held it again, straining to hear the slightest
movement in the woods. This time he detected the rustle of brush, a snapping
twig, the soft crunch of dry leaves—and the unnervingly peculiar, heavy, ragged
breathing of something big. It sounded about forty feet away, but he could not
pinpoint its location.
At his side, the retriever had gone rigid. Its floppy ears were slightly
pricked, straining forward.
The unknown adversary’s raspy breathing was so creepy—whether because of the
echo effect of the forest and canyon, or because it was just creepy to begin
with—that Travis quickly took off his backpack, unsnapped the flap, and withdrew
the loaded .38.
The dog stared at the gun. Travis had the weird feeling that the animal knew
what the revolver was—and approved of the weapon.
Wondering if the thing in the woods was a man, Travis called out: “Who’s there?
Come on out where I can see you.”
The hoarse breathing in the brush was now underlaid with a thick menacing gnarl.
The eerie guttural resonance electrified Travis. His heart beat even harder, and
he went as rigid as the retriever beside him. For interminable ticking seconds,
he could not understand why the noise itself had sent such a powerful current of
fear through him. Then he realized that what frightened him was the noise’s
ambiguity: the beast’s growl was definitely that of an animal . . . yet there
was also an indescribable quality that bespoke intelligence, a tone and
modulation almost like the sound that an enraged man might make. The more he
listened, the more Travis decided it was neither strictly an animal nor human
sound. But if neither . . . then what the hell was it?
He saw the high brush stirring. Straight ahead. Something was coming toward him.
“Stop,” he said sharply. “No closer.”
It kept coming.
Now just thirty feet away.
Moving slower than it had been. A bit wary perhaps. But closing in nevertheless.
The golden retriever began to growl threateningly, again warning off the
creature that stalked them. But tremors were visible in its flanks, and its head
shook. Though it was challenging the thing in the brush, it was profoundly
frightened of a confrontation.
The dog’s fear unnerved Travis. Retrievers were renowned for boldness and
courage. They were bred to be the companions of hunters, and were frequently
used in dangerous rescue operations. What peril or foe could provoke such dread
in a strong, proud dog like this?
The thing in the brush continued toward them, hardly more than twenty feet away
now.
Though he had as yet seen nothing extraordinary, he was filled with
superstitious terror, a perception of indefinable but uncanny presences. He kept
telling himself he had chanced upon a cougar, just a cougar, that was probably
more frightened than he was. But the icy prickling that began at the base of his
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