A CRY IN THE NIGHT

A CRY IN THE NIGHT

By Sarah Elizabeth Coulbourn

        IT ALL LOOKED THE SAME, damp leaves, fallen branches, patches of snow, mud. Fallon took soft steps.

Fallon attuned her attention to her surroundings, steadying herself, careful not to slip, gripping her backpack. Darkness settled in leaving a hazy, maroon blanket of color on the horizon.

The girl convinced herself she could still find the way back to her car. Soon she would find a familiar marking, a tree worth remembering from her trek in. Soon she would find the trail head, then, she would find her white Jeep in the parking lot, right where she left it that morning. In the Jeep, she would find her lunch box, finally a meal. A thick salami sandwich with mustard and mayonnaise. A bag of kettle chips perfectly dusted with sea salt.

Her eyesight was withering in the low light. Fallon’s eyes adjusted to the dimness as much as they could. Her pupils strained. Her heart rate was still fluttering, her mind was still racing in circles. Confusion had led to panic. Every direction she turned left her feeling empty. It all looks the same. Aside from all of this, she was able to remain steady. She did not lose control.

Then, it became apparent that there was someone else in the woods. She knew the presence of another being without having to see it. Her body could feel it, a sensation deep within. A different, surprising sense of panic. Fight or flight instincts urging her body to move. Flushing waves of adrenaline telling her limbs to run like a gazelle. She couldn’t run like a gazelle, though, the ground was too slippery.

Was the being human?

No.

The company felt much more dangerous than any human could.

Another being in the woods, an unknown being, taking mushy steps in the mud along-side her. Crunching leaves, barely noticeable. Breathing so softly, hardly audible to human ears.

Then, Fallon decided to yell. 

“Go away!” Her voice was a tone she had never heard before, like the shriek of a hyena.

She continued growling at the being. For a moment, she noticed it disappear.

She walked on, pleased that her plan had detoured the unwanted guest in the woods. She was nearing the clearing now, gaining distance, closing in on the end of the trail. Just a few long strides away.

Fallon was being stalked.

She did not know she was being followed.

The being moved through the forest like a phantom.

The being followed as Fallon tried to move slightly faster. The mountainside had turned into flatter ground. With only her phone as a flash light, she trotted through the high grass. She was running now, her hair airborne. She dropped her back pack, but then remembered her keys inside.

She back tracked, quickly, and snatched the sack.

Running, now.

Two sets of breathing; in the dark forest.

A piercing scream exited the mouth of the cat. A chilling cry in the night.

Something in Fallon accepted death in these last moments, she knew that she couldn’t fight off whatever was lurking. She knew it was much heavier, stronger and deadly than she was.

 She was just a girl.

She was blind in the night.

 The cat could see.

The cat’s pupils were wide as dinner plates. It watched the human struggle across the field, the fast movements pleasurable to the cat. Mostly, the cat felt intrigued. The cat enjoyed following, watching, listening. The human smell stung the cat’s nostrils, but the cat could also smell warm blood.

Fallon knew the car was close, now.

The cat knew Fallon was withering.

Fallon knew the cat was watching, still.

The cat sat, studying.

Fallon’s phone died. The light that guided her was gone. The darkness enclosed on her. She ran further, still moving, not knowing if she was going the right direction.

The cat moved a few feet closer to the human.

The cat was not scared.

Another scream from the cat, then a scream from Fallon.

Two females screaming in the night.

Other forest animals watched the strange exchange from their homes in the tree tops. A squirrel, curious by nature, scurried across a limb for a better view. An owl sat on a branch, completely still as a statue of marble. Birds peered over their nests edges to see who was disturbing the peaceful night.

Then, the growl of an engine.

Bright beams of light stung the cat’s eyes. The cat was blind, now, for a moment.

Fallon looked at the giant creature, bright in her headlights. A tan cat stood at the edge of the forest, a long billowing tail and lengthy torso; the body of a predator.

The roar of kicking gravel, tires squealed, dust hovered where the Jeep once sat. The noise scared the cat.

Fallon felt scared for miles as she drove the dirt path back to the highway. She kept looking over her shoulder, feeling as if the cat was still with her. She did not eat her sandwich; any feelings of hunger were long gone.

Images of the cat replayed in her head. The sound of the cat screaming could not be unheard.

In the forest, miles away, the cat sat.

Confused and missing the game they played, the cat was waiting for the human to come back. The air was cold. The cat sat quietly, behind a thicket of low branches and vines.

After a few hours of sitting still, there was movement in the open field.

A doe and two fawns. They did not see the cat hiding in the bushes. The cat lowered it’s body to a crawling position. The cat moved quickly. Illusively. Silently creeping, and then sprinting across the clearing.

Blood poured, crimson onto the forest floor. A patch of snow illuminated in the glow of the moon was stained red.

The other deer had bolted into the mountainside.

The cry of the dying fawn filled the forest.

Talons ripping at flesh.

Fallon reached the highway, and then, finally made it home. Still shaking from her cat encounter, she tucked herself into her bed. She was alive, and no one was going to believe her story. Never again would she hike alone. Never again would she hike in those mountains. She would never forget the mountain lion’s scream. A sad, lonely cry in the night.

The cat crawled into her den.

Comfortable, full, tired.

She purred.

They both fell asleep.