No risks, he thought. Stick to the plan.
His plan was simple but left no room for error. Follow her into the woods on her first trip out, grab her, subdue her, secure her. He wouldn’t have a lot of time, the whole thing would have to begin and end in less than half an hour.
He forced himself not to dwell on the need to hurry, to rush this act that he would prefer to savor for days on end. He had tried to devise a way to take her, keep her alive for as long as it pleased him, but the risks were too great. The one thing he wanted even more than to perform this great act, was to avoid getting caught. He loved his life, his position in the community, his friends. Nothing was worth losing what he had built for himself.
He thought of the plastic wrap, packed carefully in his bag beneath the knives and other toys. He might have to leave her on the forest floor, but certain pieces of her would be leaving with him.
In less than a minute he reached the edge of the clearing. Well hidden behind a clump of rhododendron, he could hear her humming softly, could hear the berries dropping into the bottom of her bucket.
Carefully, silently, he eased his hands into the leafy branches, parting them so that he could see into the clearing. She was there, bent at the waist, feet shod in rough hiking boots, topped by long tanned legs ending in a flash of white panties peeking out below the frayed edge of denim shorts.
The sight of her, so unaware, so vulnerable, was overwhelming, so blissful that the very air seemed to disappear, sucked away in a vacuum. There was only the beat of his heart and a roaring in his ears.
He was surprised to discover that the knife was already fisted in his right hand, hidden behind his back, and had no memory of how it had gotten there.
He moved then, stepped out from behind the foliage and right into the clearing.
Startled by the noise, the girl let out a small shriek, dropped her bucket as she straightened and turned, blackberries scattering all around her feet. A hand went to her throat and her panicked features relaxed for a moment, replaced by an uneasy smile.
"Mr. Levitt! You scared me half to death,” she said, trying to regain her breath. "I thought sure you were a bear!"
He could sense in her an inner struggle, an awareness, some primitive instinct at play. She had no cause to fear him, a man she had known for years, a fixture in her everyday life. But still, it was there… He could smell it on her—the sharp, clear panic of the prey.
“Not a bear, dear Piper, but you do look good enough to eat.”
To be continued…
Back Matter
I hope you enjoyed reading Beasts in the Garden.
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About the Author
Fannin Callahan is the pen name for an author living in the Appalachian foothills. At one point Fannin lived near New Orleans and developed a love for the region that has greatly influenced this particular work. Fannin enjoys reading, writing, music, and time spent with loved ones.
Beasts in the Garden Page 6