He had urinated twice while in the hole, accepting the smell and wetness of his own bodily fluids whereas he could not accept moving from his hiding place. Alan smelled the urine now, amazed at how pungent the odor was after so much time. He smelled other things, too. The moss on the trees, pine needles and bark still wet with snow. He thought he smelled other animals, though he had given that idea up. That was impossible.
As he stood in the open forest, his feet buried in snow, and his senses more alert than ever before, he tried again to recall what animal had attacked and chased him. He could not. For him it seemed the more he tried to remember, the less he was able to recall. Although each foray into the events of that night failed to bring back memories of the attack, they did end up leaving him shaking with fear. Alan pulled off his torn jacket and pulled back the remnants of his bloodstained shirt to reveal his torn chest and the strange wounds on his neck and shoulder. He placed a hand across the thick scars that stood in place of the scabs from the day before. Spreading his fingers wide, he matched one with each long scar, noting that his hand was not quite wide enough to place each finger over the center. It had to have been a bear, he thought. What else could make a wound like that? He ran his fingers across the wounds on his neck and shoulder and knew without doubt that he felt healed teeth marks. Definitely a bear. Must have been the same one that killed the horses and maybe Kyle, too. He slipped the shirt back in place and zipped up the jacket. Why can’t I remember?
He could easily tell which direction was south, and so he trodded off at a half jog. South had nowhere to lead but to the lake. If he found the lake, he could easily find the cabin. With the cabin came safety and a return to civilization. He hoped that the constable would understand about his running away. Thinking about O’Reilly jogged loose a memory. O’Reilly had taken off into the woods. With Elmert and that man with the team of dogs. I wonder what happened and how come they didn’t track me down if they were out here somewhere. The more he jogged through the snow…over deadwood and around thickets and past trees, knocking snow off the branches, as he couldn’t help but run into the tips of most of them, the more confident he became. He didn’t know why he had no real fear of whatever it was attacking him in the daylight…he just wasn’t afraid. He didn’t even try to comprehend why he felt so good, so alive, or how those horrible wounds could have healed in just a couple of days. I just have to survive, he thought. I just have to get back to the constable to tell him what happened and so that I can get back to Kathy. Jesus, she must be worried to death by now.
Alan jogged through the snow for hours, sometimes falling into a deep snowdrift or into a hidden pile of twisted branches hidden by the snow. The obstacles didn’t slow him down much. He was in shape before all this happened, and now it seemed he was somehow in even better shape. It must be adrenaline, he told himself. Only when the wind returned and the sky began to turn gray again did he start to worry. He did not want to have to hole up somewhere again. He must be close to the lake, now. He vowed that he would keep moving until he was forced to stop.
He did not have to stop, though. Instead, just as the sun dimmed, overtaken by the clouds that now drifted above him, Alan saw wisps of black smoke and heard the familiar hum of a generator. He turned toward the smoke and the sound and he ran faster. The noise of the generator was loud, now. I’ve made it, he thought, as he pushed aside one last growth of bushes to reveal that he had indeed found his way back to the cabin.
* * * * *
“How are you holding up?”
Delmar wondered if Thomas was referring to his cancer, and whether he was affected by it…but he let it pass. “I am one hundred percent, hero. Don’t worry about me.”
Thomas sensed his friend’s frustration. “I was talking about your ribs…and your shoulder.” Thomas had wrapped Delmar’s badly bruised ribs with all of the flexible cloth wrappings that they had. The wrap was usually used for a sprained ankle or a bad knee, so there was not enough to do the job well.
“Sorry. The ribs hurt, but they are okay. Just try not to make me laugh. As for the bite…well, it feels raw and this backpack isn’t helping, but it isn’t like I can complain, all things considered.”
Thomas nodded. “I know.” It was all he could think to say when faced with recalling the all things part of Delmar’s reply.
They trudged on, ever alert, through a very sparse area of the forest, where rock outcroppings were as normal as the trees. There was no more deadfall, just open, snow-covered ground and the occasional giant boulder or tree. Jenny and Jack walked side by side behind Delmar, who led the group and Thomas, who covered the area behind them.
“It should be a while before those clouds get here and when they do, maybe it won’t be bad. Maybe our rescue will come,” Thomas said.
“Let’s hope so,” Delmar replied looking to the northern horizon at the oncoming clouds.
They were headed for Jeremiah’s cabin, still, where Thomas hoped to find some answers. He was worried what those answers would be, but hoped for them nonetheless. Someone knew about the creature that attacked them. Someone knew and someone had a hand in either controlling the monster or in keeping it secure. Seeing that Jeremiah was the only person who lived out here, perhaps he would shed light on the situation. First and foremost, though, was to get to a radio and get off of this mountain. His heart ached at the thought of leaving Daniel’s body out here somewhere, but he promised himself that he would not leave this country until search parties had recovered the remains of their friend.
Delmar halted the companions when he felt that they were no more than three hundred meters from the cabin. He checked the map and then walked back to Thomas, who stood looking behind them, squinting in the sunlight to detect movement.
“We are close, now.” Thomas said. “I figure three hundred meters, maybe less, given our last pace-count and this terrain.”
Thomas nodded.
“How do you want to handle it when we get there?”
“I will just knock on the door,” Thomas said. “From there, I don’t know. We radio home, get a bird out here for Jenny...”
“And for us, Hero.”
“Only if we find Daniel’s body,” Thomas said. “I’m not leaving him.”
“They’re going to make us come with them, Thomas. Two men are dead. They aren’t going to just ask us a few questions over the radio and then leave us to go traipsing around, looking for a monster and our friend’s body.”
“Let’s just go,” Thomas said. “Let’s get there and get inside and radio civilization…if the guy even has a working radio.”
“He will,” Delmar said, then started walking again.
Jenny ignored their conversation but stayed behind Delmar. The shaking and spasms had finally stopped, and she could respond to Thomas and Delmar again, but she was far from okay. She would burst into a soft laughter, and then talk to thin air, usually mumbling something that neither man could understand. Once, Thomas thought she was talking to Steven, who, of course, was not there. Jack seemed to know that something was wrong with her, and even though he was leashed to Thomas’s belt, he stayed as close to her side as he could. They just know, Thomas had thought, seeing the dog nuzzle against Jenny’s hand as she walked between the two men.
The cabin was in site a few minutes later. The forest had opened up to a clearing that was at least one hundred meters wide and as much in length. The cabin sat, its roof deeply covered in snow, nestled at the far side of that clearing and behind it the land sloped upward forming a hill. The cabin was impressive. The main section was at least thirty feet in width and double in length. A smaller section (with the only door in site) jutted outward that was about half the size of the main, giving the house a large, “T” shape. Its roof was corrugated tin, mostly covered with deep snow. On the end of the main section facing the group, a large pipe jutted from the rooftop, and they guessed this was for a cooking stove, as there was a chimney on the opposite end.
Thomas could see a se
t of clothesline poles two huge stacks of wood, covered by a tarpaulin. Around the cabin were odd shaped bands of wood with string hanging loose in their centers. Thomas knew these were for stretching and drying animal furs and remembered that it had been said that Jeremiah sold pelts. Further behind the cabin was what looked to be an outhouse. The building was bigger than Thomas thought an outhouse would be, but he still believed that is what it was. They saw the corner of what looked to be a small utility shed or shop behind the northernmost corner of the cabin but they could not see the entire building.
What stood out most of all was the tall antenna tower some fifty feet from the cabin. The tower must have been forty feet tall and signaled to the group that Jeremiah not only owned a radio, but that he owned a very powerful base station.
Thomas controlled his elation at seeing the antenna, and wanted to approach with caution. The thing that attacked them wore shackles on its wrists, and they gathered from Jenny that shackles were also locked around its ankles. Everyone had said that only one person lived out here. While they had no reason to think Jeremiah might be involved with some sort of hybrid creature straight from The Island of Doctor Moreau, the only way to know for sure was to see with their own eyes.
Delmar had some ideas about the shackles. He posed the theory that the animal was the result of a genetic experiment gone awry (The Island of Doctor Moreau popped into Thomas’s mind, again) or maybe it was the result of a dark experiment had turned out exactly as hoped. Either way, the animal got loose from some far away laboratory in the city (Thomas had a vision of a scene from Frankenstein’s Monster with villagers chasing the monster out of the city) and when they never found it, well, it wasn’t as if they could publicize that a man-made beast was running around upright, mauling anyone that crossed its path.
Thomas wanted to laugh at the summation, but he found that he could not. Instead, he had no choice but to believe they were on the verge of learning something that just might be much like what Delmar suggested…except for one part. The creature was not simply attacking people who got in its way…not at all. It had stalked Jenny and Daniel, and then stalked the group while they were at the cavern, taking only the person that it had somehow preselected One might argue that it had taken Daniel because he was the weakest after having been wounded, but the beast had gone through Thomas and Delmar, leaving them alive, no less, just to get at Daniel. It didn’t make sense except to prove, at least to Thomas, that the thing didn’t act like any normal predator.
As they approached the house, Thomas noticed that there were no tracks in the snow…no footprints at all. The group walked side by side, now, nearing the cabin door, when Thomas stopped. Jenny and Delmar followed suit, and Delmar glanced over as if to ask Thomas what was wrong.
“Hello in the house!” Thomas bellowed.
“Jesus jumping jackrabbits!” Delmar said. “You scared the crap out of me! How about some warning next time?”
Thomas shrugged. “It’s what people did in the old days when they came up to a frontier home. It was rude to just knock on the door.”
Delmar grunted. Jenny ignored the conversation and knelt down to pet Jack, rubbing his fur playfully.
When no one emerged from the house, Delmar walked up and banged on the heavy wooden door. No one answered. Delmar peered through a small, porthole-shaped window in the door, but it was dim inside. He could see outlines of a kitchen and of furniture, but he saw no movement of any kind.
Thomas stood right behind Delmar and was about to ask if it was locked, but Delmar turned the knob and swung the door open. Delmar shrugged. “I guess there is no reason to lock doors out here.”
“Guess not. Shall we?” Thomas gestured at the open cabin.
“Indeed.”
They stepped into the dimly lit cabin and felt a warm rush of pine, kerosene, and ash. They noticed only two windows. One in the living room, covered by thick, brown drapes and second window above the kitchen sink. They were standing in a foyer that connected to the large kitchen. Pots and pans hung above a picnic style table made from what looked like rough cedar. A large water tank bulged outward above a double sink, hoses running down around the kitchen window to connect to a faucet. Pine cabinets were everywhere in the kitchen, floor to ceiling. Ahead in the living room, the remnants of a burned out fire glowed red under gray ash piled in a stone fireplace. It warm inside the cabin and they thought the fire must have burned for quite a while during the night. Antique oil lamps stuck out from the walls throughout the cabin. They were set at eye-level and spaced about eight feet apart. A slender iron rod with an oddly shaped tip hung on the fireplace, and Thomas guessed that it was for lighting the oil lamps. Next to it, there hung a different rod of the same length, this one having a large circular cup shape fixed on one end for snuffing the lamps out.
“Pretty amazing,” Thomas said as he stood in the center of the room.
A short hallway extended from the living room toward the back of the cabin. Only one door stood in the hallway, and Thomas figured that it must lead to a bedroom.
The walls of the living room and hallway were covered in various animal pelts, ranging from squirrels to bears. A most impressive collection of mounted game studded the walls of the living room, staring back at the companions with large, glassy-eyes. Elk, bighorn sheep, and bear were among the most prominent of the silent onlookers. “Not surprising,” Thomas muttered. “If I lived out here, I guess I’d have a collection like that, too.” Delmar nodded and walked over to the bedroom door. He slowly swung it open, just to be sure that no one lay there sleeping so soundly that the occupant couldn’t hear the unscheduled guests as they violated the sanctity of his home. The bed was neatly made. He turned back to the living room to see Thomas directing Jenny to a wood-framed couch near the fireplace. The only other pieces of furniture were a rocking chair made of a dark, knotted wood, and a tall mahogany gun cabinet. The cabinet contained several rifles, shotguns, and a pistol belt with the weapon still in its holster. Delmar whistled appreciatively.
“What we need is a radio,” Thomas said.
“On it,” Delmar answered, heading back into the kitchen.
Thomas lifted Jenny’s chin until she looked up at him and when she did, he asked her if she would build a fire. He pointed to the wood stacked next to the fireplace and a steel bucket of kindling. “Can you?” He asked when she didn’t answer. She finally nodded yes, and stood up. She went to the fireplace, kneeled down, and began to stack wood inside. Thomas had a hard time hiding his sorrow as he wondered whether she would ever be the same again…if any of them would.
* * * * *
Alan was shocked by the number or men and machinery that he saw at the cabin. At least a dozen men were working around the cabin and barn… wearing everything from simple official-looking uniforms to orange vests and yellow hard-hats. They took no notice of him as he walked toward the barn, trudging through snow. Skinny fiberglass poles protruded from the snow around the barn, yellow crime scene tape hooked around the top. He guessed that there were three or four of the sealed-off areas outside the barn and he worried that these locations were places that the bear had attacked, but at least there were no bodies—none that he could see anyway—and that had to be good, right?
A rescue helicopter sat between the barn and cabin, its rotors strapped down, rocking up and down as the occasional gust of wind bore down on them. Near the helicopter were two six-wheeled off-road vehicles, and even a snowmobile. Alan was impressed that the authorities had managed to get so much equipment and personnel up here in the relatively short window of good weather.
He tried to avert his eyes from the crime scene areas as he made his way toward the cabin. As he approached the porch, a tall man in a Canadian Police uniform finally spotted him and motioned for him to come closer. Alan saw the man’s face change from a look of concern to a look of complete astonishment. Finally, when Alan was no more than a couple of feet away, the man held out a hand. “Who are you, son?”
Alan swallowed hard, so happy to have made it out of the wilderness. “Alan Tucker, sir...I’m Alan Tucker…I was attacked by a bear, I think…and ran into the mountains.”
The man’s face contorted into a grimace. “You are Alan Tucker
“Yep,” Alan said, nodding. “I hope everyone else is okay. I don’t know why I ran away...but it must’ve been because of the bear. I wouldn’t have just run off and left everyone like that…” his words trailed off as he lowered his head. He was happy to be back, but now, knowing he would be forced to deal with what happened to him, he became extremely nervous.
“Are you hurt, son?” the man asked, gesturing to the dried blood and torn clothing.
“I was…I guess, sir. I healed fast…not sure why, but the wounds are just scars, now.”
The man reached out to gently grab Alan’s left arm. “Come inside.” He steered Alan into the doorway of the cabin. “I am Captain James Russeux. We’re very glad to see you, Alan. We’ve been out looking for you…in fact we have a team of men out there now, searching. They have just been ordered to high tail it back here because of this crazy weather. How those trackers missed you, I don’t know.”
Beneath a Winter Moon Page 25