Page 152 of Mazywood

Maybe that horrible sound was Beast’s greeting.

“Daddy, no—don’t shoot it!”

Impulse control. The words spilled out before Imani could think.

She braced to be terribly wrong, to see Beast swoop toward Daddy with its teeth. But Beast only swayed the way it had in its nest with her and Mom, not moving any closer to him. Beast chittered again, more softly this time. Would Daddy hear it too? The sound was almost a question. Curiosity. Recognition. Maybe Beast remembered him from when he was young.

“Imani, get back!” Daddy said.

But he hadn’t fired the gun. They were both still alive. This could still be fixed.

“It didn’t hurt us!” Imani said, although Mom would tell a different story. But Mom had admitted that she only hurt her foot because she thrust it outside of Beast’s pouch. Still, with lives at stake, Imani felt compelled to tell the whole truth. “Okay, Mom hurt her foot—but it didn’t bite us! It brought us water!”

She was shouting, so her voice careened in the cavern, a loop of echoes. Could Daddy understand a word she was saying? Would he care if he did?

Beast chittered again, and in her bright light Imani saw the way Daddy flinched, lowering his eye to the rifle’s sight.

“It’s okay!” Imani said. “He’s not mad! It’s his happy noise!”

Instead of stepping away from Beast, Imani moved closer until she was beside its swishing tail, which it partially used for balance to stand so tall. She wanted her father to know she wasn’t afraid, and maybe then he would know he didn’t need to be afraid either.

“Jesus, Imani—move!” Daddy said, frantic. Spittle flew from his mouth.

Imani tried to lower her voice so her words wouldn’t get swallowed by the cavern. “Daddy, it’s so smart. It understands what I say. We can’t—”

For some reason—Imani would never understand why—Beast snapped open its flaps, broadening its presence in the chamber. The flaps blocked Imani’s view of her father, and her certainty shattered as she realized it might be about to swoop at him. Her mind sizzled again with the image of that newspaper story that had felt so much like communication. Little Mazy and—

“Scout!” Imani yelled. “No!”

Beast’s flaps snapped back down. It turned away from Daddy, sweeping its massive snout to look back at her in a swift motion that looked like surprise. She would forever believe that she saw joy in its eyes.

The joy of being known. The joy of being remembered.

And then the world exploded.

Imani would have believed it was a volcano’s eruption if she hadn’t seen the muzzle flash and a bloody mass chip away from Scout’s face, taking one side of its head. Imani screamed and covered her ears as the rifle’s explosive report resounded throughout the cavern, as if Daddy were firing again and again. Rocks tumbled from the walls. Dust hissed to the floor in a sheet, clouding the cavern. Imani crouched with her hands over her head, expecting to be buried. She barely registered the large thumping sound of flesh and fur falling beside her, lying still.

Then everything was a tomb. So quiet, except for her ears’ painful ringing.

When Imani opened her eyes, her first sight was Scout lying on his side, flaps limp and splayed across the floor. She touched the rough fur of its belly, but no motion signified breath. She couldn’t bear to try to look at Scout’s face. This incredible animal was dead.

She didn’t hear Daddy run to her, but soon she realized she couldn’t hear at all. Nothing except the ringing. Daddy knelt beside her, patting her for injuries, mouthing: Are you okay? He was confused by her tears and sobbing, believing she was hurt. Or just scared.

Daddy lifted her up—something he hadn’t done since she was in elementary school—and carried her out of the room filled with bones. Away from Scout. But he was carrying her the wrong way. She probably had dropped her spear long before, but she still clutched her flashlight in her dangling hand, swinging it back and forth just enough to light their way.

“I’ll show you where Mommy is,” she said, although she couldn’t hear her own voice.

Daddy nodded, pressing his cold palm to her cheek. His face was shiny with tears too, but his tears were happy ones. Some of hers were happy too. Daddy had come for them, just like she had known he would.

But although she would never admit it to anyone, most of Imani’s tears were for Scout.

Thirty-Nine

JOHNNY WAS RELIEVED WHEN IMANI said she didn’t need to be carried. Her frame was small for her age, but after this endless morning, her weight overpowered his tired muscles. Still, he had cherished the feeling of her weight in his arms, reminding him of the unlikely day she had been born. Their miracle child. Imani. Faith. Their new baby would need a grand name too.

The cavern seemed to have stabilized after he fired his rifle, but he thought he heard whispers and grumbling following them in the walls while Imani led him on the route toward Tasha. If he had taken the time to examine the wall closely, he might have seen some of the spreading micro-thin fissures. But they both understood they needed to move fast.

Imani had set down glow sticks to help her retrace her path, and Johnny marveled anew at his children’s strength and ingenuity under pressure. He wished his family had never faced a tiny portion of this test, but the unforeseen discovery of their fortitude exhilarated him.