by D M Shepard
Dearest Rose,
I’m in pretty bad shape, and I was hoping to hold on until you made it back to Anchorage, but in case I don’t, I wanted to ask for your help. I tried to find some trace of what happened to my poor boy, Bryan. But I’m afraid I wasn’t able. Please don’t think you owe me anything, my lovely Rose, but if you can, would you please find my son’s remains? I know you can. As you know, he left his pack at my place, but some kids said they found his 4-wheeler at Dan Creek. They said they found some stuff in one of the old service cabins up one of the creeks near the Chitistone Gorge, but they couldn’t remember which one. I intended to ski that way to see what I could find. He never had peace in this life, I want to put his tortured soul to rest.
Your Friend,
Miss Penny
Ulrik gritted his teeth, tapping his fingers and shifting in the wooden chair as he read the note.
No way Penny wrote this. I wasn’t there around the clock, but she never regained consciousness. She was half-dead when we brought her back to the lodge, covered in festering gouges. Sepsis had set in by the time we found her.
“Ulrik? Do you think the letter’s fake?” she asked, touching his arm once more.
“I—I’m not sure,” he said, clutching the letter. He focused again on the words scrawled on the page. She pursed her lips and poked him in the side.
“Don’t lie to me,” she said, jabbing harder for extra emphasis. “You said I was a terrible liar, well, so are you. You can’t look me in the eye when you’re trying to hide the truth from me.”
“Look, I don’t want to lie to you,” he explained, voice raising in pitch. “But I don’t want to worry you for no reason either. As far as I know, she was never conscious after we found her, so how could she have written you a letter?”
“When you put it like that, it makes me feel like an idiot.” she said, putting her head in her hands.
“No, don’t—don’t feel bad,” he said, wrapping his arm around her and holding her close. “Like you said earlier, how could you know for sure? And look at the handwriting. It’s a good match, and on hospital stationary too. If Penny didn’t write this, someone went through a lot of trouble to fool you. Hell, I would have been fooled if I wasn’t there,” he said, rubbing her back in long smooth strokes.
“But why would someone—Aaron maybe? Want me to come all the way out here?” Rose asked, touching the letter in his hand.
“That’s what bothers me. It doesn’t make sense. And that’s why I think tomorrow, we can go up the Gorge and the Ravine as far as we can, just to say we did it, then we head back to Penny’s. If we have to, we can stay there tomorrow night. But I think it would be best to get you home, out of the equation if someone really wanted to trick you into coming out here.” Ulrik said, pressing his lips to her temple. He breathed in deep the sweet scent of her hair, heart squeezing.
Why would anyone want to hurt such a beautiful woman as you? But, why did your parents hurt you when you were only a girl?
“I should give our dinner a quick stir before it burns,” she said, motioning with her tumbler to the simmering pot.
“Definitely,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ll let the dogs out for a few minutes before we eat.” He stood up and whistled. The dogs leapt to their feet; ears perked up as their tails wagged. He had to move away from her. It was nowhere near close to bedtime, and his body was in overdrive, wanting to push her down on the bed platform and run his hands and lips over her body.
“Control yourself,” he mumbled under his breath as he adjusted his Berretta and tugged on his parka. He fastened his headlamp while Thor and Loki rubbed against his legs, wagging their tails to be let out. He stepped out onto the small wooden porch, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. They dashed off, exploring the surrounding clearing.
While there was a small screened-off area in the cabin for with a honey-bucket, he decided to use the outhouse one last time for the night. Snow crunched beneath his feet, the only sound in the stillness as he walked toward the outbuilding. The dilapidated structure leaned slightly, casting a long shadow in the moonlight. Thor came back to his side, trotting along the wintry path, stopping to investigate intriguing scents with his pert black nose.
What would make Aaron want to lure her out here? Does he want to hurt her? He’d better not—I can’t prove he had anything to do with Karen disappearing. She was crazy about him—for some reason. I can’t believe how fast he forgot about her after she disappeared.
He was refastening his snow pants when Thor and Loki’s growls raised the hair on the back of his neck. Thor bolted away, joining his brother. He grabbed the handle of his Berretta and sprinted out of the outbuilding. A nauseating putrescence filled the air. Ulrik’s stomach knotted in response, throat constricting as he charged up the path. The two canines snarled at yellow eyes in the woods, east of the cabin. A slinking movement caught his eye near the door. Rose stood silhouetted in the light of the lantern, looking out of the warped single pane window. A massive, hairy, bulk skulked to the door and began to scratch. Claws raked the dilapidated wood, faint sound reminiscent of his dogs, pawing to be let in. He saw her head turn toward the door.
“No! Rose!” Ulrik bellowed, as he pounded up the snowy trail leading to the cabin. “Don’t open the door! Bolt it now!” Both malamutes looked his way, when they did, they spied the creature on the porch. Baying and howling, evanescent particles reflected like crystals in the silver light as they sprinted back.
The beast screeched and hissed, tail whipping like a snake. Ulrik nearly dropped his gun as it reared up in the moonlight, approaching six-foot in height. Though covered in a pelt of fur, the shape resembled a bear or a human. Knife-like onyx claws waved at the two snarling malamutes. It let out a low hiss baring long, sharp, obsidian teeth. The dogs refused to back down, lurching forward with hackles raised. With a flick of its tail, the hulking monster changed its mind. The claws clicked against the frigid wood as it crouched down on all fours. In a single bound, it leapt from the stoop. Clouds of diamond-like powder sparkled in its wake as it decided to flee rather than fight the two angry beasts. The malamutes bayed and pursued, chasing it back into the gloom of the boreal forest.
Boards creaked as Ulrik jumped onto the porch and held his .40 Berretta level. He searched the darkened foliage of the snowbound woods. A multitude of tawny cat-like orbs reflected back in the beacon of his head lamp, closing in with every thud of his heart. He whistled loud and shrill for Loki and Thor.
The slam of the door and the patter of footsteps made him jump. Rose stood at his side; Winchester aimed at the dark brace of spruce.
“Get back inside!” he exclaimed.
“I will when you do,” she retorted, as she held her weapon steady.
“Rose—listen to me,” he growled, voice growing thick as a knot constricted his throat. The eyes still winked from the woods, enlarging in size and number as they closed in.
“If you think I’m going to leave you out here to face that...” her brusque reply trailed off. Her rounded eyes reflected the crescent moon hanging in the sky. Her jaw dropped as she sucked in a gulp of bitter air. Bare fingers gripped her rifle tighter, knuckles white. “There’s more than one,” she whispered, voice cracking.
“Yes! Now get your ass back inside.”
“No,” she stated, pursing her lips and gripping her weapon tighter.
Loki and Thor bounded back onto the porch and threw back their heads. An eerie canine serenade resounded through the darkness as both dogs called out across the icebound river channels and boreal forest. Ulrik gaped as he heard a reply in the distance. Echoing back across the frozen expanse of wilderness came the solitary trill of wolf song on the night breeze. Another picked up the tune, then another. Before Ulrik had time to heave another breath, the river valley was alive with the desolate harmony. Music rising and falling in time with some natural, unseen rhythm.
A spine-tingling hiss issued from the copse of birch and spruce. Branches clattered
and shook as yellow orbs melted back into the obscurity of the forest, vanishing as if they’d never been.
Ulrik blinked, his own eyes searching the night for signs of movement or life. His headlamp bounced back and forth as he willed his pulse to slow.
Only snow-clogged spruce and barren birch glimmered back, casting long shadows on the glistening, pristine carpet around the cabin. Though the undergrowth of trees was once more completely black, he swore he could still feel their malevolence pulsing in the winter night. He looked over to see Rose still standing next to him, the steel barrel of her rifle shined like polished silver in the moonlight.
“They’re gone,” she said.
Ulrik’s temper soared as he recounted in his head the way that creature crouched on the porch, long claws grating at the old weathered planks. The thing had risen up in front of him like a shaggy monster out of a horror movie.
What would those claws have done to her?
“Rose!” he bellowed, turning to face her. “Didn’t you hear me tell you stay inside? How am I supposed to protect you if you don’t listen to me?”
“Protect me, Mr. Condescending? I didn’t ask you to come along in the first place! Did you really think I was going to leave you to face whatever the hell that was alone?” she challenged, lowering her gun as she faced him on the porch.
The animals ceased their communion with their wild cousins and turned to stare at the two humans arguing. The wolves continued to howl in the distance as Loki and Thor barked and ran in circles around the two of them, excited by the night’s activity and the anger in their voices.
“But that thing could have…” he choked out, voice trailing off as he gripped her by the arm and pulled her closer. His mind kept replaying those hideous claws and black, sharp fangs. Stabbing pain tore through his heart at the thought of her body on the floor, mauled like Penny.
“Yeah? What if that thing had hurt you?” she yelled back, eyes flashing as she poked him in the chest. “Then I’m just here by myself, poor Little Owl! Waiting for it to come in here and kill me too! What’s a puny bolt on a decrepit wooden door going to do against something that REALLY wants to get in there?”
Ulrik’s head was pounding along with his heart as he gazed down at her. He grabbed her by the upper arms. Her huge, round eyes reflected the silvery moon, “Don’t you understand? I love you!” he shouted. “It would kill me if anything happened to you!”
“What do you think it would do to me if anything happened to you?” she shouted back, stomping her foot.
He stood staring at her for a long moment, lips numb with cold as he breathed hard. He crushed her to his chest. “You mean the world to me Rose. I—I love you.”
“Ulrik,” she stuttered. She pushed back and looked up into his face, silvery tears trickling down her cheeks. “I love you too. I think I have been in love with you since the first day I saw you. It would kill me if anything happened to YOU. You, Miss Penny and Karen were the first people who were ever nice to me. I only have you now.” She laid her head against his shoulder and sobbed. He clutched her close once more, burying his face in her hair.
“God! Rose, this is two days in a row you’ve nearly scared me to death,” he said. He ran his hands up and down her back as he pressed his lips to her temple.
“I guess we can safely say now, that thing last night, wasn’t a bear or a wolverine,” she said, taking deep slow breaths as she peered up at him.
“I don’t think so. If it’s bear, it’s a weird kind of bear. Like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” he said shaking his head.
“Do you think they’re really gone?” she asked, teeth chattering as she nestled closer. He embraced her, realizing she only had her sweater on in the freezing night. He scanned the perimeter of the clearing. The dogs dashed back and forth on the porch, pressing their noses into the boards. Occasionally they would sit back and call out into the sky, throat vibrating in harmony with the distant songs of the night. Otherwise, all appeared calm.
“I think so. Let’s get inside for now. It’s cold,” he said, opening the door as he pushed her toward it. Both dogs ran inside without prompting, adding to his assurance that the monsters must have retreated. He ushered Rose in ahead of him, glancing back once last time to assure himself nothing moved in the darkness.
“Why do you think they followed us? All the way out here?” she asked as he bolted the door. She handed him her .306. He placed it on the rack above the door frame.
“I’m not sure. Wolverine can range for hundreds of miles if they want to. I might have really pissed it off when I wounded it. I hate to say it, because some animals do—maybe it had developed a taste for humans,” Ulrik said.
“But that thing didn’t look like a wolverine. Way too tall. And wolverine don’t have long thin tails like that. Do you think they will come back tonight and try to get in here again?” she asked, chaffing her arms as her teeth continued to chatter. Ulrik enfolded her in his embrace, both to help warm her up, and to satisfy himself that she was safe.
“I—I hope not. At least if they do, they’ll warn us,” he said, motioning to where Loki and Thor slurped at their dishes next to the fire. “Those things don’t seem to like the dogs at all. It ran as soon as they got to the porch. And the howling—that was unbelievable. I’ve never heard wolves do that.” He rubbed her back in small circles, his own heartbeat slowing in time with hers as she molded against him. They both jumped as a loud clatter issued from the boiling stew on the stove. The heavy lid jittered and danced as the steam escaped.
“The food is hot,” she said, voice cracking in a nervous laugh.
He kissed the top of her head and squeezed her tight one more time. “I’ll lock up for the night. We’ll eat and make our plans for tomorrow.”
*****
After dinner, they snuggled together on the bed platform. Two mounds of fur curled up on the floor in front of the banked stove, sleeping soundly. Occasionally one would yip or groan in his sleep, but otherwise all was calm. This re-assured Ulrik that whatever the monsters were, they couldn’t be trying to break into the cabin. If they were, his animals wouldn’t rest so easily. He sat with his back against the wall, sipping a mug of herbal tea spiked with whiskey. Rose rested her head against his chest, her hair sticking to the silk and wool of his under layer as he caressed her face and neck. As much as his body ached to make love to her, the admission that she cared was enough for tonight, that and feeling free now to hold her close. He wanted it to be perfect, their first time, because he knew there was no way in hell he’d ever let her go after that.
“What about tomorrow, Ulrik? I don’t want to try to go up the gorge. I think we should get out of here.”
“I think you’re right,” he agreed, “but I do want to track those things, at least partway. Maybe see where they come from.”
“How many do you think there were?” she said, lifting her head to look up at him. “I saw lots of eyes.”
He rubbed the knotted muscles on the back of his neck, “It’s tough to say,” he acknowledged. He touched her face, wanting to wipe away the fear he saw growing in her eyes. “Possibly a dozen or more.” She shuddered against him.
“I think they don’t like the daylight for some reason,” Rose said. “When I skied out to the lodge, I’m sure something was watching from the woods. It had ample time to attack before I got there, but it waited until I got to the cabin, after dark.”
“I don’t think they like dogs either,” Ulrik said. “The one last night, even though I wounded it, I think it was actually Loki and Thor that made it leave. And tonight, they waited until the dogs—and I, were away from the cabin to try to break in. And when I was on the porch by myself, they were moving closer. They were getting ready to attack. I could feel it. Once Loki and Thor came back, and started howling, they retreated.”
“So, we’d better stay inside until the sunrises, and keep the dogs close?” she suggested.
“We should rest up,” Ulrik insisted. “We ha
ve a long ride tomorrow. We’re just guessing that the sun and our furry friends keep them away. We need to be ready for anything.”
Rose rubbed her head against Ulrik’s chest then played with the fabric of his shirt with her fingertips. “I know I said this last night, but I’m not sure I can sleep, knowing those things are out there, lurking in the woods. Then there’s the ‘Headless Ravine’. I still remember your Nana Millie telling stories about that. That’s only a few miles from here.”
“That’s just a story she used to tell. She told lots of stories,” Ulrik said, wrapping his arm around her tighter.
“But that thing in the cabin last night—and on the porch tonight. That has to be what mauled Penny. And what if it’s also what killed Bryan? And what if that’s what made Karen disappear?” Rose said, gripping at the rough wool of his shirt as she said the last part.
He put a hand over hers. “We’re a team. If indeed that’s what killed Penny, Bryan and Karen, at least we have some answers.” He rubbed his forehead then scratched his beard. “I’d tell you not to worry, but I’d be a hypocrite, because I’m damn worried too. Mostly I’m worried about you,” he said, squeezing her as he kissed the top of her head. “We won’t let those things—whatever they are, get the better of us.”
She looked up at him and grinned, “I’ll worry about you, and you’ll worry about me. I almost want to laugh,” she pointed at the two animals lounging in front of the stove. “What I wouldn’t give to be like them, not worried at all.” She rolled over, facing the fire and motioned for Ulrik to settle down beside her.
He chuckled as he put his head against the pillow. “No kidding.”
He pulled her close to his chest, wrapping an arm around her waist. They tucked the double layers of sleeping bags over the top and lay for a long time, talking into the night.
A HAIRY RIDE