The Adventures of Dorea Tress, Page 2

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  While I waited for Christopher to recover, I told him my story. Christopher rocked his sore leg and listened politely but didn’t say much, until I got to the part about these woods. He insisted that these woods weren’t magic. I laughed then and told him he was well and truly lost. He got very quiet.

  “You need to try standing,” I suggested.

  “No. It hurts.”

  “I know but we can’t stay here all night. It’s getting darker and we have to get inside before night fall.” I looked cautiously over my shoulder. The smell of the blood from his wound was making me nauseous and dizzy. He must have sensed my anxiety because he agreed to try and hop on one leg with me supporting him.

  Even with my help he could barely hobble on the crooked, narrow path.

  “I don’t think I can make it very far.”

  “No. You can’t” I agreed. “There’s an old cabin in the woods. We can go there for the night.”

  “Cabin?”

  “A small old house.”

  “I know what a cabin is!” he snapped at me.

  “It’s abandoned. I used to go there as a child. I stop there sometimes, when I’m out running. It’s a pit stop.” I laughed. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. It was the old cabin built for that movie I was in as a child. It sat unused except by me and any animal that might be able to get inside.

  Christopher was a slight young man. I knew I could lift him, carry him, even run with him across my shoulders. I suggested this and he agreed.

  I used the fireman’s lift to get him into position. I felt strong with him slung across my back and shoulders. A ravenous hunger took hold of me. How long since I had eaten?

  “What brought you out to these woods?” I asked.

  “Ah, I, ah, lost a pet,” he said. He seemed hesitant to talk about his lost pet. “Too bad there’s not more of a moon,” he said, changing the subject. “It would make finding our way through the woods much easier.”

  “Don’t worry Christopher, this time I know my way.”