by Miriam H. Harrison
They had warned us of giants, and so we watched for the swaying of trees, the sudden flight of birds. Yet all around us were silent forests and barren hills. From the highest of these summits we could see even more of this land, unclaimed and quiet.
“Have you ever seen a place so still?”
My captain snorted. “Better to face stillness than giants. Set the flag; we’ll make camp.”
The silence loomed large as I readied the flag. But as I pushed it into the ground and blood spurted up, the hill beneath us lurched and bellowed in rage.
Miriam H. Harrison
Miriam H. Harrison studies full time, works on the side, writes when she should be doing other things, and trains the dust bunnies to fend for themselves. She is an Active member of the Horror Writers Association, and you can look for any updates about her published works on Facebook: @miriam.h.harrison