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BELIEF IN THE ABSENCE OF PROOF

CHAPTER 5: THE CAMP (November - December, 1920)

Alice continued to head south, through a forest of towering trees. The forest offered constant distractions: sights and scents would lead her off on day long tangents, but the thought of the cabin that she would find if she stayed on the right track would be bring her back to the strange reality that she now occupied.

As she zigzagged in a generally southerly direction, Alice came across the occasional clearing where sweating, tempting men worked together to bring down the large trees. Depending on the extent of the burning in her throat, she would either sit in the tree tops watching them or she would stalk them through the forest, picking off the stragglers and disposing of their drained bodies in a way that would not result in premonitions of the hooded figures and searing pain.

When running along the coast, Alice had taken to diving into the deep waters and swimming to the bottom. Once she broke the surface of the water, all of the sea creatures would disappear, sensing the predator in their midst. Surrounded by water and with her senses dulled, Alice was able to think more clearly. The humans that she hunted had a different reaction to her when compared to the less sophisticated animals. The men in particular seemed aware that she was a predator, but the scent of their fear was always tainted by excitement. Alice wondered what sort of creature would allow its instincts to grow so repressed that it would not run from death.

Alice found herself running to the east, moving through the trees like the wind and silencing the forest. Several hours later the towering forests had grown scrubby and the air had dried. She slowed to approach a clearing containing a make-shift campsite, where dozens of rugged men lay in tents and gathered around a raging campfire. Alice loitered in the tree line, waiting for one of the men to separate from the group so that she could satisfy her burning throat.

She watched the men - some were barely past childhood and others more closely resembled the man whose neck she had snapped on his porch. As she observed them, a young man picked himself up from the fireside and staggered in an arc towards the tree line. Alice maneuvered and waited for him in the shadows. She had underestimated the man's eyesight, because he stilled some distance from the tree line and stared at her.

Alice watched, rooted to the spot, as his pupils dilated and his scent changed subtly. The steady thud of his heart increased and the scent of his excitement wafted toward her. As he ran his eyes down her body, Alice looked down and noticed that her dress was torn and hanging from her body, revealing more than it covered.

"Boys, come and see what I've found" he shouted to the other men, his eyes never leaving her body. Alice knew what would happen next and took one last breath before imploring "No, don't do it." The young man gestured to his friends, who started walking towards her. He stepped forward, undoing his belt as he moved. He reached forward and grabbed her arm, silently warring with his instinct to run - forcing his lust to overcome his fear at the unnatural feel of her skin.

Alice drew back into the tree line, but he followed. He lifted his hand and struck her face, his terror finally winning out as his hand shattered against her cheekbone. "What are you?" he asked, his voice high pitched and wavering. Alice smirked at him: "I'm not what you thought I was" she said, using the last of her oxygen. As she took another breath, Alice smelt the blood that was coating his palm and all rational thought stopped.

The man lay drained in the tree line and Alice became vaguely aware of the shrieking and running of the other men in the clearing. Within minutes the ground was heavy with blood that pooled and glistened like oil in the moonlight. Alice stood motionless in the clearing, listening to the three remaining heartbeats. She followed the sound and found two of the men huddled in a tent. One was hysterical and she snapped his neck quickly, never taking her eyes off the second man; he was folded up, touching his forehead, chest and shoulders in rapid succession with his right hand while staring at sketch of a woman that he held in his left hand. Alice briefly wondered who the woman was, but the man was dead before she could finish the thought.

For the first time in this life, Alice was no longer thirsty. The blood of a dozen men threatened to work its way back up her throat and the blood of a dozen more coated her body and dripped from her fingers. She sought out the remaining man. Following his rapid heartbeat, Alice found him standing on a cliff edge – he had gone as far as he could.

The man was still as Alice stopped a few arms-lengths from him. His eyes darted about wildly as he looked for a means of escape. "You can't run from me." Alice stated bluntly, chuckling at the absurdity of the idea. The man turned his head to look over his shoulder. A wide river had carved a deep rut in the land and it was apparent to both of them that this was not an effective means of escape. Alice stood motionless, her head cocked to one side as she observed the man. The blood that coated her body was starting to dry, cracking and flaking from her skin. She watched as a look of resignation came over him a second before he threw himself backwards, his body bouncing from the jagged cliffs that lined the river.

Alice again wondered about these creatures, whose sense of self preservation and fighting instinct was so lacking when compared to her own. The last man had given up on his life and had willingly stepped into a void. Alice wondered what to make of this and was surprised to realize that she had a grudging respect for this man: he had attempted to escape and got further than the others, he weighed his options when cornered and determined a way out on his terms.

Back at the camp, Alice arranged the torn bodies in the tents and covered them in blankets and bracken before setting fire to every flammable material. She stood on the tree line once again, ensuring that the entire camp was up in flames before walking back to the cliff and climbing down to the body of the last man.

Alice used her hands to dig a hole at the riverside before placing his body into the crude grave. Standing over him, Alice felt the need to say something to commemorate this man who she had terrified in his last moments. "You were brave" she said, without knowing why she bothered to say anything. She saw a signet ring gleaming on the mans little finger and bent down to retrieve it before covering his body with dirt and a pile of rocks.

Alice held the ring in her left fist, wishing that she could gain some sense of perspective over what had just happened. She had killed over two dozen men before the red haze had cleared from her vision. Despite the weakness of these creatures she knew that this was too much - the death of so many was a sadness that should not be repeated.

Her fist tightened around the ring as Alice ran south east as fast as her legs would carry her, resuming the journey that would see her visions become a reality. As she ran, Alice saw herself sitting in a dark cavern, her skin shimmering in the beam of light that lit her from overhead. A man knelt in front of her, red eyes searching her own, hand outstretched toward her.

Alice held her breath and ran for days, not stopping until she stood at the opening of a narrow canyon. Walking through the darkness, she reached a beam of light that illuminated a small corner of the space. She sat on the sandy ground and waited…