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Action Scene
Sarah knew the ledge by heart.
In the past four years, she'd spent every weekend climbing it. Every jut, nook, and cranny of that forty-seven foot tall cliff she knew, and her fingers would slide over the rock surface, curl and grip, and she would haul herself up. As she lifted her body over the ledge and climbed up on the plateau, she'd take a huge breath and really feel the cool fresh air. Then she'd turn around and survey the forest below her, the river winding its way past the western side of the ledge. That rock face was the only way to this view, and now, after years of learning it, she would come up here just to take a break from the world, from the boys at school and the dramatic politics of her group of friends.
During the week, she'd live on campus, doing homework, going to class, and hanging out with her friends.
Now and then, although nowadays she tried to avoid it, she would make an appearance at a party, commit to the social scene more for her friends and peers, as a networking device, than for having any fun. In fact she was due for such a scene any day now; it'd been weeks since she last went to a party and her friends were begging her to join them. She could avoid it no longer. Tuesday would be the night, and she would get all dolled up, stand in front of the mirror for an hour applying make up, fixing her hair, adjusting her shirt so it fit her just right. Her roommate Stacy helped her pick out her outfit the night before – an evergreen halter that brought out her green eyes, some tight fitting jeans and a pair of green heels adorned with diamonds.
"Oh you are going to make Rick craaaazy!" Stacy said as they clopped their way up the path to the frat
house. And after all these weeks, Sarah finally remembered about Rick.
With his khaki pants, t-shirt, and that rough ragged beard, he looked so fine. Sarah loved the hairy guys (yeah it was weird) and she couldn't think of anyone hairier. He'd been "after" her for the last semester, and while Sarah was interested, something kept holding her back. Well tonight would be the night. She'd see how things go.
They settled into the scene, clasping their plastic cups of beer and amicably chatting. When Rick walked over Stacy
slipped away to mingle with the hosts of the party.
Laughing, but not sure why, Sarah followed Rick into a bedroom upstairs. "No, not here," Rick suddenly said, a gleam in his eyes. "I want to treat my lady right. Take me to those woods you always go to."
Sarah was not a good drunk. They climbed into her truck and soon they were winding their way through the back roads
of the woods.
The trees blurred by her and suddenly she was there, without any real memory of how she had gotten there and without any real care. She stumbled out of the car and breathed in that fresh pine scent that she loved so much, that reminded her of her special place, which towered above them, silhouetted against the full moon. She and Rick slipped into the woods and as soon as they were under the cover of the trees, he grabbed her and forced his lips onto hers. Then his hands were doing things she didn't really want done. She moved them. But they kept sliding and slipping and the more she forced them the way the more persistent they came. She shoved Rick's chest. "What you know you want it," he said, grabbed her arms and pushing her up against a tree. "Get off me," she tried to shout, but his mouth against hers muffled any sounds. She wriggled and wormed, tried kicking his legs but he dodged her and then finally bam she hit him in that right place and slipped away, pounding through the woods and jumping over bracken. A howl followed her, and strange growls. The moon lit her path, but in her heels she was doomed. She knew as her foot was coming down on the soft dirt that it wasn't positioned correctly, that the stiletto heel was angled wrong, and she felt her foot rolling without really feeling
it and then she was down. But no pain, except for the pain of her heart beating against her ribs and the pain in her ears as the howl was closer this time, and that suspicion about Rick suddenly popped up into
her mind.
Something dog-like was padding towards her, and suddenly she was up.
Heels kicked off, abandoned in the bracken and only one thought in her head, only one way to reach peace. As she reached the clearing she saw the hand holds and footholds leap out at her, glinting in the moonlight, and she leaped onto the cliff just as the creature nipped at her heals. Kicking against teeth, she clung to the rocks, her hands slipping and sliding just like always but this time with a purpose and urgency. Grab, haul, grab haul. The sweat seeping off her palms just made her quicker. Screeching of nails behind her, her feet sought purchase faster. Then quiet, as she climbed, and just as she was halfway there, the rock shuddered beneath her, pebbles flew and she looked over and there he was, five feet to her left, in a single bound he had caught a large outcrop of rock. A furry arm ending in nasty black claws reached out for her and she spidered her way to the right, and up, and just kept going not even listening or thinking just moving and going and finally, her hands groped over the top and with the largest heave she'd ever taken she pushed herself over and lay at the top, breathing, chest heaving. The wolf leapt over the ledge and she didn't even care that the physics made no sense. She sprang up – no time to wonder where this energy came from or anything – and as the wolf reared up on its hind legs to pounce on her she rolled and kicked its legs out from under him; he fell backwards. She watched him hang in the air, yellow eyes wide, before suddenly there was a large splash. Sarah fainted.
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