Summer 1989 – The Quiet Before the Kill


I spidered down the cliff until I came parallel to the cave. I listened. Below and above me I heard the calls of birds. From the cave I heard nothing. I felt a warm breeze passing from the west. 

I inched closer to the opening. I still heard nothing from inside but my nose caught the smell of old meat. That boded ill. I had hoped that the creature had taken the children out of a protective instinct. If it simply saw them as food I was probably too late.