Free The Black Seas of Infinity by Dan Henk Page A

the time I
noticed a presence it was already gone. I stepped out of the weeds
and into the far tree line. Just ahead I could make out the gurgle
of slow moving water, followed by a strange urge to advance toward
it. The ground rose up in a steep incline. As I scaled the hill I
climbed over a large fallen tree, the soil promptly falling away in
a downhill cant before leveling out into a small bank. It bordered
a shallow stream, the earth giving way in rough chunks to a
rain-carved gully. The tops of large rocks glistened up from
shallow depths, the walls descending layers of packed clay, scraps
of half-buried mica gleaming in the morning sun. I jumped down into
the stream and started wading, the water reaching only as high as
my knees.
    After half an hour, the barely existent trail
crossed through in a slump of degraded mud walls and trampled
vegetation. I climbed up the embankment, using exposed roots to
pull myself aloft. The woods were thin here, the white slats and
red bricks of buildings visible off to the right. A few feet ahead
a chain link fence bordered the tree line, revealing a small street
that lay just beyond. Had it been summer the vegetation would have
provided better cover, but as it was the sparse leaves and bare
branches left me dangerously exposed. This would have been a good
time to have the Jeep, something to shield me from prying eyes. I
tried to stoop down as I passed, but it only slowed my progress. I
would just have to move quickly.
    Before long, the trail thinned out as it led
into a clearing. I could hear voices speaking harshly, and it
sounded like police or soldiers. Are they here for me? Hiding
behind a thick tree, I trained my hearing.
    “I don’t know? Big! A monster!”
    The voice was thin and high, a child’s
voice.
    “Fan out, encompass the area.”
    That last voice sounded deep, filled with the
grating self-assurance that came with a lifetime of giving
orders.
    Fuck me!
    I glanced around. The trees seemed to thin
out on my left. I crouched down and ran in a stoop, stopping at
every tree and trying to remain out of sight. I glimpsed a flash of
black cloth in the distance. That would be some special squad,
maybe Navy Seals. They apparently aren’t taking any chances! I ran
faster, the trees suddenly breaking away as I spilled out onto a
poorly maintained lawn, the weeds rising mid calf. Freezing in
place, I swiveled around, desperate for somewhere to hide. Several
hundred yards away was a squat, ranch-style house. Focusing in, I
scanned the close wall. It looked like the rear of the abode. It
was straddled by a small porch, with a screen cloaking a glass door
beyond. Windows sat on both sides. The place looked empty, with no
sign of movement beyond the red curtains. I ran toward the portico,
the lawn falling away in a shallow depression before quickly rising
again in a steep hill as it approached the house. The window on the
left was a small kitchen aperture. The one on the right was much
larger, offering a view into the living room. Quaint and simply
furnished. Best of all, it appeared to be empty. Stumbling up to
the screen door, I pulled it open, stepping in to face the glass. A
quick tug and it slid back. That’s small town living for you,
leaving doors unlocked on an empty house! At least I hoped it was
empty. Glancing around, I spotted a small fireplace, a hall heading
toward the front door, and an opening on the left angling to what
looked like the kitchen. Just past the white floral couch on the
right were several closed doors. I headed toward the far door. Just
as I cracked it open, into what looked like a guest bedroom, I
heard a voice.
    “Al?”
    It was throaty, but young. A female, probably
in her mid twenties.
    “Is that you?”
    I dove in the room and crawled under the bed.
The voice grew closer.
    “Al?”
    A pair of feet entered the room, attached to
slim legs ending in pink bunny slippers. They lingered in place for
a moment, slowly turning and leaving. A few minutes