below. Beast or not, something was approaching, and to his dog it smelled like a threat. Amy started to whimper, and Christian put a hand over her mouth.
"Please," he whispered. "Stay quiet."
This seemed to calm her and she nodded. After a few moments Christian removed his hand and scuttled over to the bedrock shoulder that enclosed the alcove. Summoning his courage, he peeked his head over the shoulder and looked down to the cavern floor.
Through the hole in the ceiling the moon shone full and bright, casting the walls of the cave in a ghostly shimmer. Below he could see Barney, the white tip of his tail sticking iron-straight in the shadows. His brown back was arched, ready for battle, and the white of his muzzle pointed right at the mouth of cave. At first there was nothing there. But then, loping forward, steady and coiled, a figure emerged. Christian forced down his Adam's apple.
The figure was tall yet hunched, a pelt-covered hulk with wide, powerful shoulders. From its back hung the tatters of an old army jacket, the only indication that what heaved underneath it had once been human. Tapered ears flared out from a shaggy head and a blunted nose twitched at the snout, black and wet like a dog's. Extended canines jutted from its lower jaw, framing a cleft muzzle spattered in blood, and its hands - claws really - were drawn close to its chest, black talons dripping red from the kill.
But the eyes were the worst part. Even at this distance they gleamed bright in the dark. The eyes of a killer caught between animal and man.
Christian ducked back down behind the shoulder, heart pitched in a roll. So there it was. Werewolves were real - he had seen one with his own eyes. Were vampires real as well? And Frankenstein's monster? His mind reeled, landing on his father's crazy story, of Gram's ghostly visitation. It didn't seem so crazy now. Right now it seemed like the sanest thing in the world.
Below, a pair of low growls harmonized, the sound of canines facing off against each other. Fearing for his dog's life, Christian searched the alcove for something, a loose rock to throw, anything to help, but there was nothing but pebbles and stone dust. Never in his whole life had he felt so helpless. No, that wasn't true. He felt helpless the day Mom left, the day he knew she was never coming back -
A yelp echoed up, landing like a blow to the gut. Christian knew that sound. It was the sound of Barney in pain. It didn't matter that he couldn't find a weapon, he was not going to sit here and let his dog die. He stood up, moved towards the steps?
A hand grasped his arm. "No," Amy begged. "There's nothing you can do. You'll die too."
In that moment, an image flashed in his mind - the face of his father, crying, destroyed. The thought was enough for Christian to brush aside his foolhardy courage. Losing Barney was a blow he'd have to live with, but it was nothing compared to what his father would suffer when his son turned up dead. He couldn't do that to Dad. Not after all they had been through.
"So what do we do?" he asked Amy. "How do we get out of here?"
Wincing, Amy raised her hand and pointed to the hole in the cavern roof. At first Christian couldn't understand why as there was no discernable way to reach it. But then, beyond the alcove and high on the cavern wall he noticed a narrow ridge - a ledge - leading up towards the hole like a secret walkway. An experienced rock climber would have no trouble navigating it, but for a kid who could barely make it halfway up a gym-class rope it might as well have been Mount Everest. Then there was the matter of Amy. He'd have to make the climb with her clinging to his shoulders, provided she wasn't too injured to hold on. It was a risky move at best, a disastrous, death-assuring one at worst.
But it was better than staying here and getting eaten.
"Please," Amy insisted. "Don't leave me here."
Pushing the fear out of his mind he lifted her arm over his shoulder. The pain of her injuries caused her to hiss through grit teeth but she soldiered through it, pressing her bruised ribs against his. They stood together, Amy balancing their weight with her unbroken leg. As if they were readying for a three-legged race.
"OK," Christian whispered, summoning courage. "Let's do this."
Moving as one, they stepped over the alcove shelf and on to the ledge. There was just enough room to accommodate them both - a little over a foot - provided they stayed plastered to the cavern wall. With this hands on the bedrock, Christian crept them down the ledge towards the natural skylight, Keds scuffling slowly, one step at a time. On his side, Amy clung tightly.
After about twenty yards the ledge widened out another foot, becoming something of a catwalk. Christian was able to take his hands off the wall and Amy was afforded a little leeway to move on her own. Ahead of them the ledge tapered to a narrow outcropping that would place them directly under the hole, like the diving board to a skyward pool. From there it was a jump, a space of no more than five feet, but if they should miss it was a long, long way down. And the bone-breaking rocks waiting below were likely the least of their worries.
A snarl came from behind. Christian whipped his head around to find the wolf-man stepping over the alcove shelf and on to the ledge. The beast was on to their scent, taking to the ledge like a champion climber. Its bi-pedal form gave it the all the advantages of an animal but with the skill and coordination of a man, perfect balance and movement. And it was fast - really fast. In moments it would be upon them; when it came time to jump there would be no room to hesitate.
Christin looked to Amy, and her terror-stricken eyes told him all he needed to know. "We're going to have to jump," he said, turning back to the outcropping and picking up speed. "We have to jump and you have to go first. I'll help you."
They reached the tapered end of the outcropping, where it arrowed out into empty space. "Don't look down," he said to Amy. That was what brave men said to women on TV shows whenever faced with perilous heights. Christian wished he was at home watching TV right now rather than living this real-life horror show.
He ducked out from under Amy's arm and crouched, cupping his hands into a stirrup. "Just step on my hands and I'll boost you up." She looked to the hole in the ceiling, then back to his hands, judging the distance?
Behind them the werewolf growled. "Come on!" Christian snapped. "There's no time!"
Amy nodded, stepping into his hands and putting her own shaky hand on his shoulder. "Ready?" he said. "On three. One. Two. Three!"
He lifted with all his strength. She catapulted up, clearing the lip of the hole with no problem and landing with both arms over the side. The strain on her dislocated shoulder caused her to yelp, but she fought through the pain and pulled herself up and out of the cave. Then she was gone. Christian stood there a moment, wondering if she was going to come back.
Her head popped back in through the hole. She held her good arm down for Christian. "Come on!" she shouted. "You can do - "
Her eyes went wide with horror and Christian knew the beast was behind him.
Without even thinking, he reached for the knife in his pocket. The soft scrabble of canine feet encroached on him and he spun around, jackknife at the ready. The wolf-man stood there, raised to its full, impressive height, face twisted into a mask of lupine rage. Moonlight glinted off the blade and the creature snarled, claws flexing with anticipation.
"Get back!" Christian shouted. He slashed with the knife, slicing the air that separated them. The beast's eyed burned with something between hatred and thrill at the challenge. Up close, there was no doubt about it. They were the eyes of something that had once been human; quick, calculating, yet given over entirely to instinct. A primal intelligence.
"I said GET BACK!" Christian slashed at the air again. The beast slashed back, raking claws across the back of the boy's hand. The wound burned, and Christian yelped and stumbled back. The heel of his sneaker nearly slipped off the edge of the outcropping, but he steadied himself in time to keep from falling.
"You have to jump now!" Amy hollered. She was right. The fear he felt at making the jump was nothing compared to his fear of being rendered limb
from limb by a werewolf. Gathering what little momentum he could he pocketed the knife, turned on the beast and ran for the tapered tip of the outcropping. When he reached the end, he leapt with all the power his young legs possessed, shooting straight out into empty space. For a heart-pounding moment he feared overshooting the hole, but then his palms slapped hard into stone. Gripping with all of his strength he hung there, legs flailing, and Amy's hands clamped down on him, holding him fast. She pulled, he doing his best to assist and haul himself up.
He was almost out of the hole, feeling the night air on his face when he felt something hit his right leg. Looking down, he saw the werewolf clinging to him, snarling and digging claws into his corduroys. Christian kicked at the beast with his free foot, planting a blow right to the gnashing muzzle. The werewolf bit hard into his calf, and with a scream Christian booted the monster square in the face. It let go, falling with a tortured howl.
The next thing he knew, Amy was pulling him out of the hole. Christian lay there on the ground, staring up into the cold night sky, into the pale glare of the moon. His breath made plumes in the air, smoke signals spelling out: YOU'RE STILL ALIVE.
"I think I got him," he said to Amy.
From inside the cave, an angry wolf-man howled. "I wouldn't be so sure of that,"