Free Double Blind by D. P. Lyle Page B

Now, with an unobstructed view, he saw her more clearly. Her body was tight, athletic, and he marveled at her grace. Strong, lithe, she seemed to run without effort, her strawberry-blonde ponytail bouncing behind her in rhythm with each stride.
    Who was she? Where had she come from? He knew everyone in town, or at least at one time he had, but had never seen her. Or the young swimmer he had seen earlier. He settled back into the shadows and watched her glide up the meadow’s slope toward the forest.
    *
    By the time Sam reached the trees, the sun had dipped behind the peaks to the west, casting the entire valley in deepening shadows. She continued along the path, winding her way through a grove of white barked aspens. Their apple green canopies fluttered in the breeze and threw a protective shroud over their saplings, which, though slim and delicate, stood as straight as their parents.
    The trail continued upward into the thicker spruces. Ahead, she heard the muted rumble of waterfall, a sound that grew louder with each stride, and then she saw glimpses of it through the trees. The trail swept around a cluster of pines before opening into a small clearing at the fall’s edge. She stopped.
    Before her, the water swirled and tumbled over a rocky ledge, and then fell a hundred feet or more in a thick column toward a clear pool. The ground beneath her throbbed with the water’s power and its bracing spray cooled her skin. Sweat and mist collected on her brow and she wiped it away with the back of her hand.
    After taking a few deep breaths, she continued along the trail, which climbed the steep slope, paralleling the swirling waters for a short distance, before turning to the west, toward home. She had been running for 45 minutes and guessed another 30 minutes would bring her back to the Aspen Creek Inn.
    Just before the trail turned back into the trees, she caught a glimpse of a broad rocky ledge that cantilevered over the falls, a hundred feet above her. She veered off the trail and trudged upward through the spruces.
    As she stepped from the trees and onto the flat ledge, the valley opened before her in a panorama that literally took her breath away. The valley floor was a blanket of rich green and to the west the sun gilded the edges of the peaks and painted the sky a golden peach. She looked down on the rumbling waterfall as it plunged into the mist-shrouded pool she had seen earlier. From the pool, a broad creek emerged and wound its way toward town.
    She absorbed the view and the clean crisp air for a few minutes, before turning to head back down to the trail.
    Then, she saw it.
    Something moved through the trees above her. She eased to the edge of the clearing and ducked behind a thick spruce trunk. Her heart jumped to a higher gear and suddenly the air seemed even thinner.
    Peering around the tree, she saw nothing but she heard it, plowing through the brush and tree limbs, seemingly unconcerned. Then, the dark form reappeared. It moved among the shadows, a difficult to define mass, coming down the slope, directly toward her. She couldn’t make out any details or colors, only its size, which was huge and seemed to grow second by second.
    What the hell was it? A bear? What should she do? She spun her fanny pack around and unzipped it. Her fingers closed around the Berretta. Not exactly the ideal weapon for bear hunting. No way it would kill or even harm it. More likely only anger it.
    Think, Samantha.
    She had read somewhere that defending yourself from a bear differed, depending upon whether it was a Grizzly or a Black Bear. One you fought; the other you played dead. But, which was which? It didn’t matter, she wouldn’t know one from the other anyway.
    Her first impulse was to run, but she also remembered reading that running was dangerous regardless of what type of bear it was. It would be bigger, faster, and would think anything running from it must be food.
    She sidestepped to her right and squatted behind a stocky