Chapter Three

Katrin literally turned the tent inside-out in searching for the pager, but her efforts proved to be futile, for the pager was not to be found. Finally, choking back the tears, Katrin sat down next to her sister and eyed the wailing child in her arms with mock curiosity. It wouldn’t do to have an outburst now, she thought. Not when Meredith was obviously so distressed over the child’s predicament.

“Maybe we should try feeding it,” suggested Katrin, absent-mindedly.

“So we’ve lost the pager, then?” asked Meredith, staring hopelessly at her sister’s timorous expression.

“Um, yeah,” said Katrin, twiddling a strand of her long, blondish hair around her finger. The tears were beginning to smart her eyes; she wasn’t sure if she could hold them in for much longer.

At last, the baby stopped crying. Both girls sat quietly for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. There was very little that one could say in such circumstances. The fire was beginning to die, the night was encroaching, and there was a peculiar coldness in the air which made Katrin shiver. A solitary tear slipped unbidden from her eye and rolled down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away with the back of her hand.

“To bed with you, Katrin,” said Meredith, none-too-harshly.

“To bed?” Katrin cast a side-ways glance at her older sister.

“You heard me. I’m not trying to boss you about, but you’ll feel much better in the morning if you manage to get some sleep. Sitting up and worrying ourselves silly won’t do a blind bit of good.”

“You’re right,” agreed Katrin, standing to her feet. “Things always seem better in the morning, somehow. But what are you going to do with the baby?”

“I’ll take her... I think it’s a her... into the tent with me after a bit, and see if she’ll settle down beside me.”

Katrin reached over and gently patted the bundle. The baby looked up at her with unblinking eyes.

“Poor wee thing,” said Katrin, shaking her head.

Two pairs of eyes followed her as she quietly slipped into the tent. As she took of her shoes, pulled on a sweatshirt and wriggled into her sleeping-bag, she wondered if life would ever be the same again. The shadow of death had drawn nearer to her than it ever had before, and it had left something- something in the shape of a small, helpless baby- for her and her sister to contend with. She hardly slept a wink that night, and when she did perchance happen to drift off, the face of the young woman, cold with death, and her chilling scream, thrust her out of dream-land and caused her to wake up with a start. Sometimes she wondered if she could actually hear something in the distance, something like the beat of a tom-tom drum. But perhaps she was letting her imagination run too far away with her.