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“A picture?”

He shook his head, vigorously. “No one’s ever been able to get a shot at that thing, by gun or camera. Granted, I’m the only one who’s ever tried. Everyone else’s too afraid, rightfully so.”

She still hadn’t unfolded the paper. “And why haven’t you succeeded?”

His brow wrinkles deepened, multiplied. “I’ve been close, too many times to count, but it’s always disappearing, jumping this way and that. It’s too fast for this world.”

“You said you were close tonight though.”

“Closer than I’ve ever been. The thing was just…staring at me—challenging me. Almost like it wanted me to pull that trigger. Then you shouted out there and it left.”

Something struck Elizabeth as strange, the first flicker of logic since Eustace began his horror story. If he’d been so close, and the beast—had it been real—was impossibly quick as he’d said, why wasn’t Eustace dead?

“You going to take a look so we can be on our merry way?” he said, eyeing the picture.

She unfolded it, and rain dotted the corners. Eustace shined his spotlight on the heavy sheet of paper, lighting it magnificently. It was frightening, sure, but something this frightening couldn’t be real. Her eyes followed the meticulous and graceful charcoal strokes. The beast was hunched over, claws in front of itself, and the teeth escaping its mouth looked like a hundred tiny knives. Its pointy ears looked like a wolf’s but were twice as long: devil ears, as he’d said.

“Did you draw this, Eustace?”

“From memory.”

She eyed him. “It’s very good. You ever think of illustrating comic books?”

With tight lips, he snatched the drawing and stuffed it back into his pocket, never removing his eyes from her. “Like I said, you’ll see for yourself soon enough.” The way he turned and continued without her left her momentarily speechless. Every option rushed through her mind. As logical as it seemed to go back the way she came, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. Eustace, with swift steps and a bouncing light, was disappearing ahead. Eustace, with a shotgun for protection.

“Wait!” she called, the word rolling up and out of her throat as quickly as her feet ran. As though he knew she would follow, he stopped and waited patiently until she reached him. She wondered if he hid a triumphant smile.

When he offered his arm without words, she took it with resolve, and they began to walk again as quickly as before. Only this time she didn’t find the movement alarming. She did find it strange, however, that he seemed so forgiving of her skepticism. She tried to make it up to him, tried to entertain his belief. In the same way she’d done for her father during his last four years.

“So this…beast—how long has it been around?”

He threw a sidelong glance at her, but answered nonetheless. “It could’ve been around forever for all I know. But us residents of Hemlock didn’t see first signs of it until sixty-five.” His steps slowed only slightly while his mind appeared to be in a far-off place. He didn’t seem to pay attention to the direction they walked as he maneuvered through the trees. “I was thirty that summer, had my plans all set for me and Holly Farrell. On the night it came, the stars were bright—brighter than I’d ever seen—and the town was gathered in the square to celebrate forty-five years in Hemlock Veils. There was dancing, singing, pie-eating. And Miss Farrell…” He let out a low whistle. “She was prettier than the stars. I was going to ask for her hand that night, you know.”

His face fell, and more so his voice, as he went on, “But…the monster lunged from the tree line and snatched Miss Holly, taking her into the woods before the band could even quit their song. It was the first time any of us ever saw it.”

Elizabeth’s steps slowed from his sorrow. No matter its incredibility, he believed every word of his story. It was almost the same way her father used to get wrapped up in stories, and she couldn’t help thinking how much he would like Eustace Bathgate.

“It was dark, so most couldn’t make it out,” he added. “You see, it’s only alive at night. No one knows where it goes during the day. It just…disappears. Then, when the sun goes down, these woods are transformed into something else entirely. Night is its time. These woods are its territory.”

Elizabeth couldn’t help looking all around her, at the supposed beast’s kingdom.





“Why do you think Mt. Hood National Forest doesn’t mark many trails in this area? When was the last time you saw a sign for a hiking trail, or anything like it?”

“I…don’t know.”

“Exactly. No one likes it here because we aren’t supposed to like it here.”

That didn’t make sense to Elizabeth, so she moved on, asking hesitantly, “Did you ever find Holly Farrell?” She expected the answer to be a horrifying one. Maybe the monster had ripped her to shreds, scattering her remains throughout the forest.

“We found her all right. At dawn she came crawling through the trees, on the same edge of town she’d been taken.”

“She was alive?”

“Hardly a scratch on her. Crying like a child and shaking with fright, but for some reason, the monster let her live. To show everyone Hemlock Veils was its own, I think. To show us it could have anyone it wanted. I never saw her again after that.”

“She left town?”

He nodded, taking her hand as he led her over a moss-covered board that had been placed over a stream, creating an unsafe and slippery bridge. Camp Creek, if she remembered the map correctly. “She couldn’t get out of this place fast enough,” he answered. “We’ve never seen the beast come out of the forest like that again either. It was the first and only time. But every so often, people go missing for a night, people who got too close to the forest—only to wake up in terror in the trees the next day. Mostly women, too. The beast has been part of this town for almost fifty years. It stays out of our town limits, and we stay out of the forest at night.”

“Except for you, you mean.”

“Except for me. And now you too, Beth.” He smiled, crookedly.

“So if this is like some sort of…treaty, why break it?”

“I don’t think a treaty has anything to do with it. All I know is our town’s lived in terror for too long. I’ll never stop hunting that monster. It’s terrorizing Hemlock Veils just by existing. As far as I’m concerned, it can either die or move onto somewhere else.”

“You’re not afraid?”

“Course I’m afraid. You’d be insane not to be. But someone has to stand up.”

The trees cleared and they found themselves on the green shoulder of a narrow road traveling in an east-west direction, rain pelted her face with more force. Before she could ask, his grasp on her arm tightened. “We need to keep going. Just because we aren’t in the trees, doesn’t mean we’re safe.” They crossed the road, entering the firs and hemlocks on the other side, and continued south. The soggy ground began to decline, taking them downhill, and the first red cedar appeared at her left. Moss dusted its massive trunk, and its height rose far above what she could see in the dark. The vegetation thickened, became more difficult to traverse, and his arm broke away from hers as he again took the lead. She made sure to stay close.

“That was Road Thirty-Two,” Eustace explained. “You keep taking that and eventually, after a few curves and a couple turns, you’d be to Hemlock.”

“And this forest—the beast’s territory—is safer than the road?”

“Just quicker.” Their pace naturally picked up as the downhill slope steepened, but eventually the ground leveled out. The vegetation became mossier—more like the rainforest she always imagined Salmon-Huckleberry Wilderness looking like, which probably wasn’t far. She would have to save her admiration for tomorrow, however, when sunlight offered her clear sight.

“You see, I have an obligation to stand up to it,” Eustace said, continuing his story. “When it took Miss Holly, no one besides me got a good look. The tavern’s light shed on him just so, just enough for me to make eye contact. It stared me down, with those devil eyes, and something passed between us. It knows who I am, and knows I’ll never stop. And in a way I can’t explain, it seemed to accept it. I swear I saw the thing nod right before it leapt back into the trees, Miss Holly screaming in its arms.”