Werewolf Skin Read Online Free PDF Page A

it started to rain.
    Several tiny animals scampered silently past my feet.
    I stopped.
    No. Not animals. Fat, dead leaves. They scuttled over the dark grass, pushed
by swirls of wind.
    I lowered my head under a tree branch and entered the woods at the back of
the yard. The old trees shivered and creaked.
    The steady WHOO of an owl, far in the distance, made me think of my
aunt and uncle. They were here with their cameras somewhere in the woods. I
wondered if I would run into them.
    I followed the twisting path through the trees. Another raindrop fell heavily
on the top of my head. Rain spattered the ground.
    I stopped when the bent tree came into view. The tree I had photographed with
Hannah that afternoon. I played my flashlight over its curved shape.
    “At least I’m heading in the right direction,” I said out loud.
    I stepped over a fallen tree branch and moved deeper into the woods. The
trees began to hiss, the leaves shaking in the rising wind. I could still hear
the owl’s steady WHOO WHOO in the distance.
    My flashlight dimmed, then brightened again. Its thin circle of light made a
path for me between the trees.
    “All right!”
    I cried out when the light swept over my camera case. I had set it down on a
flat tree stump. How could I have forgotten it there?
    With another happy cry, I picked it up. I actually felt like hugging it. I
was so happy to have it back. I checked it out carefully, turning it under the flashlight.
    I wiped away the few raindrops that clung to the top. Then, cradling it under
one arm, I started back to the house.
    The rain had stopped, at least for a moment. I started to hum happily. I
wanted to skip all the way home!
    The camera meant more to me than anything. I promised myself I’d never leave
it anywhere again.
    I stopped humming when I heard the angry sound.
    An animal snarl. A fierce, throaty roar.
    I dropped the flashlight.
    The creature roared again.
    Where was it? Where was it coming from?
    Right behind me!

 
 
11
     
     
    I bent and grabbed up the flashlight. My knees suddenly felt weak. A cold
wave of panic swept over my body.
    I heard loud animal grunts. Another angry snarl.
    I forced myself to move. I had to get away from here.
    A clump of fat shrubs rose up in front of me. Clutching my camera case, I
darted behind them. And dropped to my knees.
    Hidden behind the bushes, I struggled to catch my breath. To stop my heart
from thudding so hard in my chest.
    I couldn’t see around the fat leaves of the bush. But I could hear the
animal’s grunts and growls. I ducked lower, hoping I was completely out of view.
    Hoping it couldn’t smell me.
    And then I heard the crash of heavy feet on the ground. A high wail of anger,
like a cry of attack.
    A frightened bleat rose up. So high and tiny. A terrified cry—cut off
quickly.
    Snapped off.
    Leaning into the shrub, my legs trembling, my whole body shaking, I heard a
struggle.
    So close. So close, I felt I could stand up—reach out—and touch the
attacker and his prey.
    So close, I heard every grunt, every frightened cry.
    A thud. A growl. Another tiny, helpless bleat.
    A loud ripping sound.
    Wet chewing. The slap of jaws. More rapid chewing. An animal burp. Another
ripping sound.
    I shut my eyes, picturing what was happening right in front of me.
    I heard a thud. Then silence.
    The hiss of the wind seemed to grow louder.
    A hiss… then silence.
    I opened my eyes.
    I stood up shakily.
    And heard heavy footsteps. Twigs and leaves crackling under heavy feet.
    The footsteps approaching rapidly. Coming my way.
    Coming for me. The creature—the hungry creature—was moving toward
me.
    “Ohhhh.” A low cry of terror escaped my throat.
    Gripping the camera case tightly, I spun away from the clump of shrubs. And
started to run.
    I heard animal grunts behind me. Heavy-breathing pants.
    I didn’t glance back.
    I ran deeper into the woods. I thought I heard the splash and trickle of a
creek on my right. Wolf Creek? I