Steve moved between the trees, hoping everything off the path had no motion sensors. If everything worked the way he wished, he could get past the pass intersection and get Cherry to the point on the pass to continue with her journey. The sensation of Cherry gripping his backpack as they kept low and ran played in the foreground of his mind. Something about her had changed when he mentioned the town's former mayor. It seemed she remembered something about him.

"Steve," she hissed, "stop."

He felt the tug on his backpack pulling him backwards, slamming into her as she came to a halt.

"What was that for?" he asked; she pointed into the trees above them, "a net ... thanks."

"There must be triggers somewhere here," Cherry said, looking around, "it's only in this area."

"Yeah, the area we need to move through to get to the point in the pass for you to continue your journey."

"Triggers must be here somewhere," Cherry said, looking along the path, "perhaps we can deactivate them or bypass them and then continue."

"If there is a trap here," Steve said, "you can bet there are motion sensors somewhere."

"Meaning?" Cherry asked, pointing to something just off the path, "that perhaps?"

"Someone will be coming this way to either check on the trap, or they may have a camera with a motion sensor or ..." Steve knelt carefully. Moving leaves displaying a wooden triggering mechanism, "There could be several things set here for them to monitor the less taken path."

"I was thinking it may have been a very elaborate hunting trap," Cherry said, looking around for another way around the trap. "For what exactly? They have to get to the area without triggering the trap."

"Good point," Steve said, turning he looked at the brush at the side of the path, "what is that ... over there."

Backtracking, they found another path curving into the forest. The entrance was covered with leave and branches. Cherry lifted the cover, exposing a trip wire. The pair stepped over the wire covering the trigger again and followed the path.

Steve was impressed that whoever set up the trap had made another path cutting out a large portion of the hike they would have taken. Glancing at his watch, he noted they had made good time. Ready to move at a quicker pace, he glanced over his shoulder to find Cherry slowing down. She seemed to be listening to something while looking around her. It appeared to Steve she may have seen this place before. He had to admit it was beautiful even though eerily quiet, like the calm before a sea storm. Cherry locked onto something to the right of the path, focusing on whatever she had seen.

"Cherry, what is it?" he whispered, becoming alert as she stiffened, turned and ran toward him.

"Run, fast ..." she said, pushing him in front of her, "go .. now."

Steve didn't wait; he ran along the path as quickly as possible. The thrashing of something immensely huge through the grass could be heard, and it was getting louder. Meaning it was getting closer.

"Head for the path," Cherry panted, "we must make the path before it is level with us."

"What is level with us?" Steve asked.

"Protector de garras," Cherry gasped, "faster ... go ... don't stop."

Abandoning any kind of caution, Steve pushed himself harder. Instead of being silent, they made more noise than a herd of wild animals on a migration path. They burst onto the wide passageway cutting through the forest. Cherry pulled him to the side, taking him with her to the ground as an enormous clawed appendage swiped over the area they stood. Steve gasped; his chest hurt, and his legs shook with exertion, but Cherry didn't give him time to rest.

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"Keep moving," she whispered, looking above their heads, fear rushing into her eyes, "belly crawl and don't make a noise."

"What is going on?" Steve asked in a hoarse whisper.

"I'm going on instinct," Cherry whispered, pointing in the direction they had to move, "that way ... move."

Steve shook his head but followed her directions, "So much for saving the damsel in distress."

It seemed forever before they came to a small clearing with a stream flowing through it. Cherry pushed to her feet, walking forward, turning in circles taking in the area. Steve drew his knees under him, remaining in a crouching position. He took a moment to rest if she was happy to look around.

Cherry turned in a circle taking in the strangely beautiful stone structure they had crawled into. Steve saw a stream and a clearing, whereas she saw the stone structure forming around them. Somehow knowledge of their safety for the night ran through her. They were safe here ... in this sanctuary ... for now. They could rest, and she was closer to her goal than she would have been if they had remained on the main path.

Why did she know this area?

Why did she understand the strange carvings on the walls and rocks along the river?

Why did she know that ... being was out there?

When had she been here before?

Rubbing her temple, she winced as pain sliced into her mind.

"Steve, do you have painkillers?" Cherry asked as the ache in her head grew.

Groaning, she sank to her knees, clutching her temples. Images of this area flashed, mixing with distorted images of white walls and doctors peering at her. Searing pain in the sides of her arms made her gasp.

"What is happening?" her knees bucked as she cried out, gasping as it rose up along her shoulder and gripped her neck in a vice-like sensation.

Memories flooded in, and she shook her head as memories of metal objects along her arms worked their way into her flesh, moving through her. "Not again."

In a haze of pain, she pulled herself toward the stream and felt Steve coming toward her, "Don't... touch ... me."

"How can I help?" Steve asked his voice an anchor in the sea of pain.

"Need to get to the stream," she whispered, dragging herself over the sand and stones.

"Here, hold this log," Steve said, "I'll drag you."

Cherry focused on the wood in front of her, grasping it and hanging on. The sensation of moving added to the delirium of the moment. She felt uncertain of where everything was going. Perhaps she could find an answer to find her way home ... home .... the word echoed in her mind, resonating with her soul and sinking into her bones and marrow. The cabin wasn't home ... this place was; she had to reclaim her home. There was more to the story of the land and the structure that the trust allowed others to know. Either she would remember, or she would die protecting her heritage.

Finally, water ran over her hands around the stick and through her fingers. Cherry let go, pulling herself into the river, allowing the water to rush over her arms as she washed her face and sipped from her cupped hands. The haze cleared, leaving pain and memories. Gripping the rocks below, Cherry panted as the pain level rose, tearing a hoarse cry from her before darkness crashed in, and she sank to the river bank.

Steve watched helplessly as she screamed in agony before passing out. Moving forward, he pushed the log under her levering her face from the water, wedging it under her torso and securing it between the ground and protruding rock. Something his grandfather always said came to mind, "Listening is often the only thing needed to help someone."

"Truer words were never said," Steve muttered as he prepared to camp. It would be some time before they could move forward on Cherry's journey. Glancing at her dangling over the log into the river, he wondered if she hadn't started her journey.

"Make ready for the night while the sun is still bright," he murmured, looking at the rock wall, "may this place be the sanctuary we certainly need."

A flicker of colour ran along the rock wall. Steve blinked, "Am I seeing things too?"

Looking around, Steve spotted a strange pile of wood near the entrance of the cave-like area. Moving toward it, he froze. In the doorway stood an overlarge cat-like creature. Glancing down at its paws, he realised how close they had come to dying.

"She's in trouble," he whispered, hoping the cat could understand, "I need to help and look after her. She needs to finish this journey."

Snorting, the cat sat, staring at Steve as he carefully moved toward the wood pile, taking what he needed to build a fire and slowly building a camp for the night.