Renner Falls

Watch your step...

Snow crunched beneath Allison’s boots, echoing throughout the surrounding woods. She pranced around, glad there was no one to see her acting like a kid.

Whirling at the sound of a woodpecker, she searched through her camera lens, but her prey went silent.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are.” A fleeting puff of steam barely warmed her one gloveless hand.

A different type of bird responded, though she couldn’t place it no matter how hard she looked. She waited for a few minutes before giving up.

When the well-traveled path detoured from the river, she followed the sounds of water. The waterfall should be nearby.

She came to the top of a steep slope, the winding river below. Careful steps tested the ground, taking her as close as possible to the edge.

Sunlight reflected beautifully off the water, creating a shining effect in the pictures. The falls, however, were nowhere in sight. Allison leaned in further, trying to glimpse it.

The cover of ice above a pile of leaves cracked beneath her feet, and she slipped on the underlying mud. She reached out, wrapping her gloveless hand around the thin trunk of a tree.

For one long second, even the rustling of leaves stopped.

Then the tree—nothing but a dead husk—cracked. She fell onto the disgusting pile of leaves, sliding down the slope towards the unyielding edge.

She desperately grasped at dead leaves and snapping roots.

Her toes dug deeper, but no solid ground was to be found.

Her stomach lurched, and her vision darkened for a second.

All motion stopped.

A crow cawed in the distance; another responded. Around her, the world was bathed in stillness, only the rushing water below matching the urgency of her thoughts.

The camera was a hard block against her ribs, and she felt ice against her right cheek. Her head hurt.

Allison crawled back to solid ground. It was another minute before she could stand on shaking limbs. Cold was seeping into her legs and arms.

Afraid to see how close she’d gotten to falling, she moved away from the edge without a backwards glance.

She continued along the river until the only choices were to go up another slope or double back.

Her cheeks felt numb from the chilly breeze and even her toes had long given up on staying warm. She breathed into her cupped hands, but that did nothing. Maybe even her breath had gone cold.

A clearing in the trees brought the laughter of children from behind a row of evergreens across the river.

That’s right, it was a beautiful day.

To warm up, Allison climbed the hill at a fast pace, using the roots that intertwined to form a makeshift staircase.

She powered onward, gaze moving along the surroundings much like a view-finder, searching for the perfect background—a fallen tree or an undisturbed sprinkling of snow on a lower branch. Sunlight streamed between naked branches, sparsely draped in snow. She pulled out her camera before the clouds got any funny ideas.

A large dark shape intruded out of the corner of her eye, and whatever warmth she had left vanished.

Allison turned her head as little as possible—did they have bears here?

She squinted, cursing herself for leaving her glasses at home. She didn’t dare point her camera for a better look.

It was a person, as still as she was, their back to her, half-leaning against a fallen log that was covered in melting snow. A black hoody concealed their features, but broad shoulders suggested a man.

She waited for the span of eight panicked heartbeats. She didn’t want to move forward and enter his field of view.

Her foot moved back.

One step, two.

Only then did she turn. She continued as quietly as possible for a few more steps before speeding up. Her own breathing was all she heard.

Was it darker now?

Peace was so easily disrupted, even the sunlight filtering through the trees was nothing but an empty promise.

After what seemed like a wrong turn, she couldn’t find the way down from where she’d come. She followed the edge of the hill, the river far below.

The voices that had been so comforting, were now empty echoes, useless for being too far away. Farther they became until they disappeared.

She stopped and drew a deep breath to calm herself. Surely she was over-reacting.

A twig snapped.

Leaves crunched right behind her.

“Allison?”

She turned towards her brother’s voice.
There’s no way Andy would be here, 200 miles from where she buried him last winter.

How could he be the stranger in the black hoodie?

And the eyes!

Andy had never looked at her with such hunger.

She backed up instinctively, getting dangerously close to the edge.

The smile on her brother’s face twisted into something predatory, matching his eyes.

His hand slid along his face—no, wiped away his face.

Skin turned to mud, falling to the ground with a flick of his wrist. Only a pale, misshapen form remained. “So much for having a familiar face.” It was still her brother’s voice.

Allison tried to run, but her legs wouldn’t do as she wished.

A clammy, cold hand—like mud—latched on to her chin and directed her to look down over the edge.

Her legs almost buckled. Her blurry vision showed her a figure on the edge of the water.

A person was lying there, dark coat half-submerged, puffing out of the water. She choked on a breath when she realized the red was not a hat, but blood flowing liberally from the person’s head onto an exposed rock.

The person… with a baggy coat… and something metal glinting nearby.

She squinted, breaths growing faster.

It was her camera down there.

And it was her.

She pulled away from the creature’s grasp instinctively, running further into the woods.

The creature laughed. “Run all you like, Allison Renner. We have forever to play.”

Marilia Bonelli has had several wonderful short stories published in several anthologies. She toils away currently on a what was once a trilogy, but keeps growing against her will…