Narrator

It just stood there watching in a way that felt evaluative, like it was deciding what we were.

Then from behind us, far off but distinct, a whistle sounded.

Three notes.

The creature's head snapped slightly toward the sound.

Then it looked back at us.

And it made a sound, not words this time, but a low exhale that felt like a warning.

Tessa's voice shook.

"'It don't want us in the open,' she whispered.

Luke's breath hitched.

"'Or it wants us trapped,' he whispered.

I didn't know which was worse.

Another whistle, closer.

Tessa grabbed my sleeve.

"'Move,' she whispered.

"'Down the line.'

We started down the cut line at a limping jog, exposed, praying the road was close.

Behind us, the creature stepped forward one pace, then another, staying at the edge of the trees, paralleling us like it didn't want to step fully into the open, but didn't want to lose sight of us.

The whistles behind us came again, closer now, and to our right.

The men were moving too.

For the first time, I felt a kind of helpless clarity.