Page 7

Chapter

Seven

Erin

O nce the bindings are shed, I crawl out of the nest, my eyes darting around the room to the collected junk, but I don’t see anything useful. No weapons. Nothing that would help protect me if I run into danger.

My heart beats faster still, and my vision blurs.

I’m sore, especially now that I’m up and moving, but there’s no time to worry about achy muscles and the fatigue in my legs. I creep to the door and tug the fabric back slightly, glaring out into the darkness for any sign of him.

The world is dark, with twisted, gnarled trees stretching up from the ground and disappearing into the inky sky overhead. It takes my eyes a second to adjust, but I can see a small pool of water gathered around the house and a thin stretch of ground running off from the front door into the distance.

No other houses.

No sounds of animals tiptoeing through the trees.

No birds, no insects. Nothing.

There’s nothing but darkness and silence and my desperate urge to put as much space between me and this place as possible.

Without taking the time to second guess myself, I run. My feet pound against the thin bridge of ground hovering above the water, and I take off into the trees, realizing moments later this probably isn’t the smartest plan of action. Especially since I don’t know which way the Grim went.

I could be running right toward him, but I don’t slow down.

Faster. I have to go faster and put distance between us.

My muscles cry out in pain and my lungs burn, but if this is my last chance at survival—my last whisper of hope to get away and make it home somehow—I’m not going to squander it.

I’ll worry about the details later. If later comes .

I try to pick up the pace, willing my feet to move faster, even though it doesn’t seem to help. I’m exhausted, more tired than I’ve ever been in my entire life, and the only thing keeping me moving now is my sheer will to live.

I’m not ready to die, not now.

Not here .

I’ve got too many other things to accomplish to give in now.

So many more adventures to go on and stories to tell. This isn’t my time to go, no matter how high the cards seem stacked against me, and I can’t give up, despite the exhaustion weighing down my bones.

I’m sure I’ll collapse if I slow down, and I rely on my momentum and panic to keep me moving forward.

One more step. Then another.

I fight to keep up my steady pace with my arms pumping at my sides.

My ragged breath breaks the silence, my heart slamming unforgivably against my ribs.

I bob and weave through the trees, moving as quickly as I can in the almost pitch-blackness. It’s difficult, and my shoes threaten to trip me up on roots and knotted underbrush, but I keep going, moving as quietly as possible.

It feels like deja vu, a repeat of what happened in the woods after I discovered the portal, and I look for any glimmer of light shimmering in the distance. Any hint of a glow, something to guide me back home. I have no idea how long I was out, but it couldn’t have been that long. Maybe the portal is still open and I’ll find it if I keep running.

Maybe…

A terrible roar tears through the air, echoing from somewhere in the distance and threatening to split me in half. I choke on air as my heart stutters, and I swivel my head to look behind me, although there’s nothing for me to see yet.

Fuck .

It seems the Grim has realized I’m gone, and now I have very limited time to hide. Surely he’ll be on my tail, hunting me down once again, but I doubt he’ll be so kind this go-around.

This time, he’ll be out for my blood.

He’s not going to let me off easily this time unless I somehow manage to get through the portal. A prayer echoes in the back of my mind that the portal is still open and will only close once I make it back through, sealing me on one side and the Grim on the other.

I run harder, screaming internally for my feet to move faster, reminding myself why I have to keep going every step of the way.

I have to get home and tell the world what I’ve found.

No one is going to believe me, but I’ll make them—somehow. I’ll make them all see the Grim for what he truly is, and maybe we can figure out a way to stop him from taking anyone ever again.

If I can save my own life, I’ll be saving countless others in the process, and for that reason alone, I have to fight past the pain and keep going.

But none of those things will happen if I fail now.

The trees eventually open into a small clearing of grass, almost perfectly circular in the middle of the woods. The shape is peculiar enough to catch my attention since I haven’t seen anything but gnarly tree trunks since I left the Grim’s house—hovel? Dwelling?—but I hardly slow down, my gaze laser-focused several yards ahead where the trees continue.

I glance up briefly at the sky overhead, noting that it’s lighter than I initially thought, a dark, murky gray flecked with emerald green. Does the brighter color mean the sun will rise soon? Or that the tree limbs blocked out most of the color before?

An alien world, a giant monster…it’s almost too fantastical to believe.

The green pinpricks could be stars, or they could be something else, but I can’t stop to analyze them. I keep running, bounding across the clearing. The ground is softer here, almost damp. The closer I get to the middle, the more noticeable the difference is, and my feet begin to sink into the vegetation.

A scream burns in my chest, but I don’t have the air to spare to birth it.

Every step becomes slower, my feet disappearing further into the ground, and my heart leaps into my throat. Oh god, no. Is this quicksand? Did I really just free myself from one prison to be bound and restrained in a much worse fashion?

The terror is brighter this time and churns my stomach in a sickening wave.

I fight against the pull, using my hands to lift my thighs and drag my shoes out of the muck as I continue. I refuse to be taken out by grass. What a disappointing way to die. The thought is clinical and detached in the face of the surging adrenaline.

I’m ankle deep and almost across the clearing when another roar, this time much closer, cuts straight through me like a knife.

What would be a better death? Drowning in quicksand or being torn limb from limb by the Grim?

“Shit, shit, shit,” I whisper between haggard breaths, pulling harder at my feet to free them from the sinking ground.

When I reach the other side of the clearing, the ground grabs onto one of my ankles hard and I fall forward, slamming my face to the ground. I expect the ground to start swallowing me whole, but my torso seems to have landed on solid dirt. No sinking or dragging.

After a few seconds of exhausted fighting, unable to move without wincing from the pain, I’m able to free myself, and I scramble to my feet again. I curse over the precious seconds I’ve lost, knowing the fate that’s inevitably coming for me, and then I run. Hard.

The Grim’s going to find me.

He’s going to catch me again if I don’t do something quickly, pull an ace out of a sleeve or a rabbit out of a hat to save myself.

Would it be enough for me to hide in a tree? To scale to the top and refuse to come out until daytime? His sense of smell seems too keen for me to evade detection that way.

Is there even such a thing as daytime here? Or is this realm perpetually drenched in darkness?

When I stared through the portal it was dark like this, but that doesn’t mean anything. It could still be nighttime. There’s a chance I was only out for a couple of hours.

Or maybe there is no such thing as a sun in this realm?

My stomach shifts again, the realization that I’m in completely uncharted territory finally sinking in.

This is bad. So so bad.

Finally, when I feel like my legs are going to give out, a sliver of white breaks through the darkness, and I nearly scream with relief. The unmistakable glow of the portal flickers in the distance, wavering through the tree limbs, but it’s there.

It has to be less than fifty yards away. My heart leaps out of my ribs.

I’m going to make it. I’m going to make it.

The excitement that spurs in my chest somehow sends the message to my feet, and they pick up the momentum again. As soon as I reach it, I’ll dive through, but I know that won’t be the end of things. I still have to make it out of the trees and to town before I’ll truly feel safe.

Can I even run that far? Or will I pass out before I get there?

My heavy breaths and weak limbs suggest the latter, but I can’t give up. Not when I’m so close.

I don’t know whether the Grim will follow me out of the woods—the stories and myths are unclear just how far he’s willing to go to claim his victims—but hopefully when I make it to my house, I’ll be safe.

I can barricade the door and windows, lock myself inside and refuse to come out. Tomorrow, I’ll walk to Tyler’s house to get my car, telling him about the incredible story of how I was almost stranded here in this world. Of how I almost fell victim to the Grim, and we’ll post the pictures of the portal on my blog.

I’m so enamored with my thoughts of escape, so consumed by my looming success, that I don’t notice the tremble in the trees nearby until it’s too late.

I’m close, so close , to reaching the portal, when something slams into my back and I fly forward, skittering across the ground. I hit roots and twigs and bumps on the ground, the harshness of the terrain scratching and biting at my skin like hot pokers.

I try to get to my feet again, but a huge hand grips my side and flips me over, flopping me onto my back.

“You thought you could run from me,” the Grim growls, his words shattering the world around us and echoing into the distance.

So much for being quiet and not being overheard.

He obviously doesn’t seem to care whether he alerts any other beasts in this forest. Honestly, whatever is out there probably isn’t a match for him anyway.

“Please,” I whimper, pushing at his massive, bulging chest in a feeble attempt to get him off me. “Let me go. Please.”

“What part do you not understand?” His voice vibrates over my skin, the heat of his breath hitting me in the face as he lowers himself over me.

I try to flinch away, but it’s useless.

The Grim reaches up to cup my cheeks in his coarse, leathery hand before glaring straight into my soul. “You’re mine now. I will never let you go.”