Cursed Ground

There was no place to hide, and she didn’t know how long she could keep going. She could not risk a fall. A single misstep would lead to doom.

Whatever it was, it was unprecedented. No one knew of its existence and anyone who did know never lived to tell about it.

She would become one of those people.

She beat down the tiny branches that leapt out and threatened to block her way. As she made headway, she caught a glimpse of a clearing in the distance.

There was a road ahead. It was vague, but large enough to instill a glimmer of hope. If she could get there fast enough, she might have a chance. She forced her legs to move faster. Even now she knew the odds, but she was a fighter. Always had been, and if she was going to die tonight she’d die trying to live.

The road grew closer, larger and she hoped like hell that some unsuspecting driver would come along at just the right moment. If not, then death was inevitable. There was no place to hide and the predator—this was its land. Familiarity, instinct and the drive to kill—she didn’t have a chance.

The road. Closer… closer…

God please!

And there it was. For a moment she thought she saw a vague light in the distance. A headlight! She ran toward the road and then suddenly, there it was again…

Right before her stood the small dark cabin she’d spent the last ten minutes running away from.

“What?” All things forgotten, she could only stare in horror and disbelief.

She was not stupid, not fooled into thinking the roadway she’d seen was imagined, the path she’d run was crooked. No, she’d stayed on course. She’d run away from the cabin, not toward it. She’d never veered… she’d made certain of that.

During all of the insanity, that was the one specific thing. She knew life all too well and deemed nature the same way, knew that if she’d run in a straight line long enough, something would eventually intercept—disrupt it. Nature was like a good plan, well thought out, everything in place…