A chilly breeze blew through our front yard. I regretted not putting anything on to cover my face, but with how quickly Peaches went to work, I didn’t think we would be out there for very long.
She let her nose work as her GPS and wherever she was going, Peaches clearly had to get there fast. She pulled on the leash and nearly pulled my arm out of socket.
Peaches stopped at a grassy patch about two houses down from ours and barked at her chosen spot ferociously.
“What is it?” I called to her. “What are you barking at, girl?”
From my vantage point, all I saw was unkempt grass and weeds that would fit in perfectly with the rest of my front yard. I chose to tread carefully considering all of the current events that I had been witnessing.
I watched as the hackles on Peaches’ back rose up. Her growl became more guttural. I attempted to tug her away from it in case it was dangerous but she held her ground.
As I approached, I peaked around the side of her to get a better look, but it was like she knew what I was up to as her body would move into my line of sight no matter what I did. I grabbed a hold of her collar and pulled her back as far as I could without harming her and finally found what the big fuss was about. It was a paw print.
It wasn’t just any paw print. The pads of the feet and claws were too big to be a wolf’s and too small to be a bear’s. A trail of them zigzagged their way towards the park at the end of the neighborhood. I wanted to believe that someone had just bought a really big guard dog, but I knew better after all that I had been through.
I yanked Peaches’ leash in the opposite direction so she could do her business before possibly making me late for the bus. The crisp, cold air blew on my face, but I muscled through it for her. Once she was done, I tried to head back inside, but she started barking again in the direction of the paw prints.
“It’ll be ok, girl,” I said.
I put her in my room with a bowl of food and water, grabbed my satchel and rushed to catch the bus. The only thing I could afford to focus on was my conversation with LeCarre. My plate was full enough without worrying about stupid—beast sized—paw prints, right? The urges were too strong and my curiosity too high. I went against my better judgment, let Peaches back out of my room, and made my way back towards the prints.
The paw prints, similar to a massive dog, altered with different levels of stress. I could tell the creature, whatever it was, would start and stop with the speed of racecar, kicking dirt and plant life everywhere. Peaches sniffed each print and lead me back to the lake at the end of the street. I wondered why it had to be the park where Darius died and not an ice cream shop or a pizza place.
Peaches spotted something in the far distance and galloped to the edge of the woods. Several trees had been snapped in half or broken in places to make room for something large. I turned back, thinking I might be able to get back to the bus stop in time. Peaches scratched my leg with her paw like she was saying, “Let’s go play!” I sucked in a heavy breath and let her lead the way.
The areas that had been disturbed during our last trip had remained that way. I was happy not having to dodge stickers and stray limbs once again.
We quickly made it to the spot where I had first met Lathon quickly. It was crazy to me because I swore up and down that it had taken us much longer that awful night. Sure enough, I looked over my shoulder and I could still see the lake.
An ashy black mark made up a circle in the middle of the clearing. That was where the big paw prints reappeared. They came up just by the nearest trees, but slowly shifted into small human feet. Right before they landed on the black spot, a second pair of feet joined them. I thought, “It couldn’t be—”
Not prepared to make any judgments. Not ready to guess the marks had belonged to my parents, I tried to convince myself I hadn’t seen anything at all. I jerked Peaches again with her leash and quickly made my way back home.
The Silhouette (Alan Quinn and the Second Lifes) Page 26