“But I do believe it. And for some reason, it drives me crazy. You were a child.” He shook his head. “It had to have been hell for you. Some kids are even scared of the dark, much less being alone in the forest.”
“It wasn’t hell for me. At first, I didn’t like being alone, but then I realized I wasn’t alone at all and I—” She stopped. She didn’t like being on the defensive and she didn’t really like remembering that night she’d run away from home. She certainly didn’t want to share it. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“No, I want to know how you felt.” His eyes were suddenly holding her own. “Tell me.”
“Why? You know too much about me right now. You don’t have to know about that girl back in Dodson, Indiana. I’m not her any longer. There’s nothing from that time that you can use to manipulate me.”
“Maybe not. I still want to know.” His face was taut, strained, intense. “Tell me.”
But if she told him, she felt she’d give him something of herself that belonged only to her. That night of rejection and rebirth had been painful, and yet it had formed the person she had become. He wouldn’t be able to understand. No one could understand. That’s why she never talked about it. To talk about it would bring back the memories, would bring back that night.…
Dodson, Indiana
12:40 AM
Thirteen Years Ago
It was going to rain. She could smell it in the air.
I shouldn’t have picked tonight, Margaret thought as she ran down the highway toward the cornfield she could see in the distance. Beyond that cornfield was the forest, but she might not be able to reach it. Her father had been drunk, but she wasn’t sure that he had passed out yet. She should have waited. She had no shelter built in those woods. And if it rained hard, there would be mud and she’d leave footprints.
She couldn’t wait. Her back still stung from the whip her father had used on her earlier in the evening. The drinking was getting worse and so were the beatings. She tried to stay out of his way, but it was getting harder all the time. Lately, it had seemed as if it was no longer punishment but pleasure he was looking for. When he had knocked her against the wall yesterday, she had seen that pleasure when he saw the blood running down her face.
And she knew he’d want that pleasure again.
She had known she’d have to be prepared, that it was going to get worse, but she had thought she’d have a little more time.
No more time.
He wouldn’t let her get away. He would keep coming after her because of that joy he felt in hurting her. If she hid, he would try to hunt her down.
She knew about hunting; she could see it all around her when she joined with animals. When an animal knew it was being hunted, it didn’t wait; it fled. It seemed to be pure instinct. But it was confusing for Margaret, because when an animal was hunted, it was usually for food, not for pleasure.
But she had known that she had to leave that night.
Because her instinct had told her she might not have another chance.
Headlights on the road behind her!
There were only two houses on the road where she lived, and their occupants had to get up early to go to work and weren’t likely to be out after midnight.
And she recognized the sound of the seven-year-old Chevy truck her father drove.
Run!
She tightened the shoulder strap of the book bag she’d used to pack her belongings and started to run.
“Margaret!”
He’d seen her!
He’d stepped on the accelerator and he would catch up with her in seconds.
No! She ran faster down the road.
“Margaret, you come back here. You little freak.” His voice was slurred, but it was angry and full of menace. “I’ll beat you senseless when I catch you.”
And he would do it.
No! She wouldn’t let him. Never again.
She jumped over the ditch and ran toward the cornfield.
He was cursing as he pulled over to the side of the road. “Margaret!” He took out his flashlight and shined the beam on her running figure. “Come back here and get in this car!”
She was almost to the cornfield.
“I’m going to get out and come after you!”
Threats and fear and him always there waiting for her. She couldn’t stand it any longer. She wouldn’t stand it. She suddenly turned around and faced him. Both the beam of his flashlight and the headlights were on her, blinding her to the darkness of his car only yards away. “You won’t get out of the truck,” she shouted at him. “You’re too drunk and I’m not worth it to you unless I’m easy prey. You’d only fall down and probably break your stupid head open. Come ahead. I’ll lose myself in this cornfield and you’ll never find me. I’m not going to be easy for you ever again.”
His voice was harsh with rage. “I’m going to kill you, freak.”
Freak, again. He always called her that when no one but she could hear him. It had started the first time he had realized that she could actually bond with animals and he had treated it as something loathsome. “No, you won’t. I won’t let you. Maybe I am a freak, but I’m natural and I’m clean. You’re the real freak. You’re twisted in a sick and ugly way.”
“I’ll show you ugly. I’ll get you back and you’ll—”
“No, you won’t. You won’t do anything to me. You’ll never see me again.…”
She turned and ran into the cornfield.
Tall stalks of corn on either side of her. The rustle of the dry leaves as she ran through them.
She heard her father cursing and then the car door slam. He was coming after her. She had probably made him so angry by her defiance that he’d been driven to chase after her. It hadn’t been a smart thing to do.
But she’d had to do it. She hadn’t been able to just disappear after all that had gone before. She’d had to tell him what he was and defend herself at last.
She heard him crashing through the cornfield behind her.
She was smaller, but faster, and he was drunk.
It was starting to rain.
Even better.
He would be slipping and sliding and maybe get discouraged. He might just rely on DEFACS to find and bring her back. She wouldn’t let that happen. Never again.
She ran faster. She couldn’t see the forest beyond the cornfield ahead of her, but she knew it was there. She had spent many hours in that forest while she was hiding out from her father.
It was raining hard now and even though the stalks of corn were partially protecting her, she was getting soaked to the skin. That was okay; he would be getting this wet, too.
“Margaret!”
He sounded far behind her as well as frustrated and furious.
And she was getting closer to the forest every minute.
It was silly to think it was calling to her. There was no sound but the rain and an occasional roll of thunder. Maybe she was the one calling.…
And she might have been answered. She could no longer hear her father crashing through the tall stalks behind her. He was not shouting her name.…
Safe?
Not yet. Not until she got out of this cornfield and into the woods.
She increased her pace, listening for any sound behind her.
Nothing.