Shadow on the Moon Read Free

door
handle, a howl resounded over the highest treetops. Achingly mournful, it
carried a message of pain, loss, death.
    Dana felt the sorrow to her bones.
Grotesque images of flying limbs and spurting blood flashed through her mind.
Her shivers turned into flesh-racking shudders. Her knees buckled. She grabbed
for the handle, jumped inside the ranger, and shakily activated the locks.
    Just a coyote, she told herself as
she turned on the engine with trembling fingers, unnerved by her intense
reaction. She'd grown up in some of the country's most rugged areas and felt
safer backpacking alone through deserted canyons than she did on most city
streets. True, she'd felt fear before, but not limb-numbing terror such as
this.
    Her hands were still shaking when
she engaged the four-wheel drive and jammed the Ranger into gear. The
four-by-four creaked and swayed as she entered the road, jarring her in her
seat. She clenched her teeth, focused on avoiding the worst ruts, and soon
forgot the fearsome howl.
    Several bumpy miles later, Dana
rounded a sharp S-turn and pulled to a full stop. The road had already
deteriorated into a narrow cow path, and now an enormous wall of snow had
swallowed it.
    Tapping her fingers against the
steering wheel, she sighed loudly, and backed up, hoping for enough room to
turn around in. She then angled the Ranger to the right, gingerly rolling back
until she felt the tire hit the ridge of a drainage ditch bordering the road.
Next, she pulled forward as far as possible until she reached the opposite
side. She repeated the procedure several times, carefully avoiding the boggy
ditch, which she knew would suck her four-by-four right in.
    With considerable effort, she
finally had the Ranger at a suitable angle to the line of the road. From here,
she turned the steering wheel as far as it would go, then stomped on the gas,
counting on weight and momentum to carry her out. But she'd misjudged the
slickness of the road. The tires tried to grab, but failed. The vehicle
fishtailed and skidded toward the ditch.
    Whomp. Thump. Thump. The right
front wheel scaled the edge of the ditch, jolting the Ranger to a stop.
    "Dammit!" Dana pressed
her lips together, slammed the gears in reverse, and floorboarded the gas
pedal. The wheels spun impotently and she released the gas.
    Throwing open the door, she stomped
through the mud, dug out a lantern from the rear, and went to inspect the
damage. Her back tires sat on a sheet of ice. The front passenger wheel was
mired in the ditch. Cursing herself for having decided she didn't need chains
because the western storm season had passed, she swung the lantern around,
seeking something to wedge under the stuck wheel. The light fell on a branch,
thick with pine needles, several yards inside the forest.
    Dana hopped across the ditch.
    The lantern splashed light on the
underbrush. Birds flapped their wings and flew from dark shadows. Various
creatures scurried and squeaked on...the ground. Finding the normality of the
sounds reassuring, Dana hurried toward the branch, confident she'd soon be out
of her predicament.
    A howl shattered her serenity. The
night creatures instantly hushed and only an undulating echo broke the silence.
    Dana froze midstep. Her nerve
endings vibrated, and for a moment her foot remained suspended in air. Angry at
her loss of control, she stamped the foot down and exhaled heavily.
    Her breath misted in the lantern's
wake, creating a heavy fog. The light quivered in her trembling hand.
    Battling an urge to dash for the
Ranger, Dana made herself creep toward the branch. As soon as it came within
reach, she snatched it up and sprinted toward the road, nearly tumbling when
her foot caught the top of a dark stone.
    Finally, she reached the Ranger and
hastily bent to wedge the bough beneath the mired wheel. When it was securely
in place, she climbed inside. By now, her body was stiff from cold and tension.
She struggled to remain clearheaded as she looked over her