[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

little better, the details of trees and branches becoming clearer as our
eyes grew accustomed to the woods. Also, very slowly, the air was
getting lighter. The chill and dampness, as well as fear, kept us
shivering but we did our best to fight it off. We learned very quickly
that you can be frightened and yet be determined to do what you have to
do.
We stayed very close together, and very silent, as we made our way
through the woods, following the old man.
Finally he stopped and held out a hand as a signal to us. We came up
close around him and saw that we were on the edge of a small natural
clearing in the woods. Silently, the old man pointed and we could see,
in the gradually brightening light, the faintest hint of a trail that
entered the clearing on one side and left it on the other. This was
where we would wait for the Easter Bunny.
Pointing in silence, the old man indicated where each of us was to hide.
Except for the creak of branches overhead, the faint rustle of the
pines, and the steady dripping of rain from the trees, the woods were
silent around us in the slowly growing light.
Cold, wet, nervous, we settled down to wait.
It didn't take long.
I was sitting there on the ground, feeling the cold and the rain soaking
through my clothes and trying not to think about what was happening. If
I stretched my neck up just a little, I could see Barbara in her hiding
place a few yards away. I could imagine what was going through her mind
right now. She hadn't wanted to believe any of this, hadn't wanted it
to be real. None of us did. But of course, we had no choice: the old
man spelled it out and when a thing like that is shown to you, you can't
just sit back and ignore it. And so here we were. I kept flexing my
fingers around the shafts of my four spears. I was afraid that if I sat
too still for too long, my fingers would freeze and I'd be at the
beast's mercy.
From our hiding places, we could all see the nearly obscure trail that
entered at the other side of the clearing. Our eyes were fixed on it as
we waited.
And then suddenly I saw something.
Beyond the clearing, some distance away up that barely visible trail, I
thought I saw a movement, thought I saw something white moving between
the dark trees. I leaned forward, clutching the spears, and squinted
into the fog. I thought I saw it again, something white, whiter than
the fog itself, and then instantly it was gone. My heart was pounding,
hammering at my chest, and I was short of breath. And then I saw it
again.
58!
I stretched upward a little, just enough to see Barbara, and I could
tell from the angle and stiffness of her body that she had seen it too.
I held my breath.
And saw it again, closer this time.
It had just been a white blur at first, a patch of whiteness moving
against the gray-white of the fog. But now it had a shape. It was
upright, and tall. It seemed almost to float or drift between the
trees, moving closer and closer to the clearing where we were hiding,
but I still couldn't make out any details.
Off to my left, I heard a tiny, stifled choking sound from the old man
and then I knew it was really coming.
I closed my eyes for a second, then opened them quickly and focused on
the place where I had last seen it. There it was, moving toward us, its
shape hidden for a second by the trees, then briefly visible through the
thick, swirling fog, then hidden again. The mist and the gray light and
my own fear made it appear so large, I thought. It couldn't be as big
as it seemed.
It was a rabbit. A huge rabbit. Its thick fur was brilliant white,
fuzzy and soft. I could see, as it came slowly closer, its long floppy
ears, and thought I could even make out a touch of pink on the insides
of them. It had short forepaws, short in relation to its overall size,
but huge by any standard, and seemed to be holding them up close to its
chest. It wasn't hopping, the way a real rabbit would hop, using its
powerful hindquarters, but walking, I could see now, walking
purposefully along the trail. There was no mistaking it. It was
definitely walking upright in the most grotesque fashion.
I watched it, fascinated and horrified at the same time, as it grew and
grew in size and slowly materialized, as it seemed, out of the mist .
There was no denying it. I was looking at the Easter Bunny, and
everything the old man had said was true.
It was real and unreal at the same time, a thing that moved in this
world, the real world, and yet was not of this world. A monster.
It had to be killed.
"Death to the Easter Bunny!" I breathed, and carefully crouched, ready
to spring at it. I was tense but no longer afraid. I knew what I had
to do.
With some uncanny kind of communication that only takes place in moments
of extreme crisis, I knew that the others were moving with me, ready to
attack the beast the instant it came within range.
And then it was just beyond the clearing. A few steps would bring it
into the open space where we could be on it. And, my God, it was
enormous, perhaps twice my own height. I could see it now, see it
really clearly for the first time. I could see its face, its pink nose,
its horribly long white whiskers. And I could see what it was carrying
in those paws it held up in front of it. There, brightly decorated with
yellow and purple satin ribbons, was a woven straw Easter basket. I had
to force myself from freezing at the sight.
The thing stepped into the clearing, almost filling it with its huge
size.
And we were on it.
The old man was first. With a hoarse, wordless cry, he sprang from the
trees right beside the Easter Bunny, leaped at it, and plunged a spear
into the soft white fur of its neck. Taken by surprise, the Easter
Bunny reeled back.
The other four of us were already moving, our spears aimed at the
thing's heart, as the old man had taught us. I don't know if the
others' spears struck home on that first mad thrust, but I know mine
did. I felt it strike, felt it sink into resisting flesh. Knowing it
was in, I whirled away-the old man had taught us well-and took another
of my spears and moved in again to jab at it. The technique was like
that of the bull ring: get the first spears in to stick there and weaken
and hamper the beast, then go at it with the rest of the spears. I saw
blood staining the white fur bright red. Through it all, the beast
never made a sound.
Now I could see the other spears in it, dangling from it, whipping
around as the Bunny whirled, still confused from the sudden attack .
There were several streams of red running through its fur. It was still [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]