Winter Prey

by T. M. Simmons

  The clothing kept the chill at bay, at least, from the below-zero temperature. The other cold — the iciness that descended on her several times over the past few days, the inner sense of fear and barely restrained panic — accompanied her.

  It had all come down to this. She could ignore her destiny no longer. Niona had managed to avoid being a part of the legend played out for generations, but Kymbria couldn't keep letting things pile up in her life, one conflict on top of another unresolved.

  I guess this damned windigo is the straw that threatens to break my back, she mused as she stared through the deceptively beautiful night. It seemed inconceivable danger could lurk beneath all that splendor. Yet Mother Nature's playground was anything but serene and peaceful. Life and death struggles played out every minute.

  Right now, everything from moose to wolves to rabbits huddled drowsy and warm in the pine-thicket beds, dens and underground burrows to avoid the blizzard. A blizzard not nearly as horrible as the ones that started this chain of events. A storm over for now, but whose brother, according to Nodinens, loomed just on the other side of the full moon. One of a line similar to those that isolated her ancestors.

  She had no way of knowing whether or not she herself might be trapped out here, or for how long, when this next storm set in. Earlier, she'd rationalized major rescue attempts would be expedited should she and Caleb disappear, since they were smart enough to notify Hjak where they were going. Now, she was out here alone. No one would know where to look, should she go missing, unless Nodinens figured it out.

  She gritted her teeth as a picture of Risa flashed through her mind. She didn't have any right to risk her life and leave her daughter motherless…for the second time. Did she?

  No, but she wasn't going back. She couldn't be the mother Risa needed if she turned coward now. The prayer filled her mind as though Adam stood there with her.

  Mino-dae/aeshowishinaung

  Tchi mino-inaudiziwinaungaen

  Nanaukinumowidauh matchi-dae/aewin

  Zhaugootchitumowidauh matchi-dodumowin

  “Against evil prevail,” she repeated aloud.

  Surely Nodinens would suspect where she had gone, but Kymbria doubted anyone would check the bedroom until morning. Initially, this had been a plus for her plan. Now, though, faced with the reality of what she had done, the breadth of the wilderness she was navigating and the fact that perhaps she and the windigo were the only two inhabitants in this vast land….

  She should head back and wait until she gathered help. The cave with the lair was off the beaten path, in an area hardly anyone ever explored, even in the summer. If the blizzard trapped her out here, the search would focus in an area a mile or so away from where she was headed, where numerous other caves spotted the landscape. Far enough away to make a difference in her being found in time.

  But if she went back, it might be days before she could return. Everything pointed to this final confrontation being between her and her ancestor. Did she have enough faith and confidence in herself to see this through?

  Listen when your heart speaks its honesty to you.

  “I hear you, Adam. And right now, my heart is telling me I'm tired of running away. That it's time to take an active part in my destiny.”

  Other words brushed her mind in a whisper Kymbria didn't even try to comprehend. They weren't teachings from Adam; they were another attempt by the windigo to gain her attention. She almost expected the beast to appear to her again, as it had twice on the trail, both times fostering the enigma of the tie between them. Once, it had threatened someone she cared about to try to force her to accompany it. When thwarted, it appeared in rescue mode to guide her to safety.

  She gritted her teeth as she stared into the distance. This would never end until she ended it.

  She fed the machine gas and slowly crawled out into the open. She supposed the beast was watching her from somewhere. How ineffective she must look in all this vastness: a tiny figure on a toy machine crawling across the last portion of land between her and the hill that contained the cave.

  Could the creature be smart enough to lie? To manipulate Kymbria into coming to it so it could add her to its list of prey? Did it, instead, want to kill her? Would her death empower the windigo in some manner unforetold, since no windigo had ever interacted with a human before?

  Thankfully, her daughter didn't carry her blood, Kymbria mused as she rode on. There would never be a chance that, if she failed, her daughter would have to take up this quest forty years from now.

  ~~~

  Wired on coffee and aspirin for pain, Caleb steered his pickup into the cabin driveway. Now his ears were ringing. No. The satellite was still working up here. He turned off the truck before he answered.

  “Mona's actually grateful,” Daniel said. “She was going to try to call you. Admit what she'd done and try to work things out.”

  “We need to go ahead with a divorce,” Caleb said. He forced himself not to look at the cabin, where Kymbria lay asleep. “She'll never be happy with me again. Assure her that I'll be fair.”

  “I already talked to her. She wanted to speak to me before she did you. Test the waters, I guess, with me the lesser of two evils.”

  The word evil resonated in Caleb's mind, but he maintained his concentration on the phone call. “Tell her I'll get in touch soon. And make sure Skippy knows I haven't deserted him.”

  “Will do,” Daniel assured him. “Take care, friend.”

  Caleb disconnected and slid out of the pickup into the frigid pre-dawn cold. He waded through the drifts to the door, pausing a minute before he knocked.

  The marriage falling apart was as much his fault as hers, but damn her, Mona could have asked for a divorce. What the hell made her take off like that and allow him think she and their son were dead? He knew, though. She'd made no attempt to hide her distaste over his beliefs and his paranormal activities, nor the fact she didn't want their son involved. It would be something Mona would do: let him believe she and Skippy had been killed as the result of his paranormal activities.

  He would sort it out later.

  The light illuminated the kitchen before he could knock and a second later, Nodinens opened the door and indicated for him to enter. He hugged her briefly, but when she started to speak, he strode past her toward the bedroom Kymbria had been using when he left. He flung the door open. Brrrrrr. The room was at least twenty degrees colder than the rest of the cabin. The bed clothing was smooth, no bump signifying Kymbria was curled up beneath the sheet and comforter. He walked across the room and tapped lightly on the bathroom door.

  “Kymbria? Sorry to disturb you, but since you're awake, can I talk to you for a minute?”

  No one answered, and he checked the bottom of the door. No light seeped out. Why would she be in the bathroom with no light on and the door closed?

  “Kymbria?” He knocked harder.

  A movement caught Caleb's attention and he turned in time to see Scarlet slip into the room. She jumped on the bed, then whined and stared at him a moment. Steeling himself for a tirade for disturbing her privacy, Caleb opened the bathroom door and found the room empty. He even drew back the shower curtain, although he had no idea why he'd think Kymbria was hiding behind it.

  “Maybe she's over in Nodinens' room,” he said as he walked back into the bedroom, but already his heart pounded in alarm.

  The dog wasn't on the bed, and when Caleb started out the doorway, he felt a gush of frigid wind. Anxiety heightening, he strode over to the curtains along one wall, where the wind seemed to be originating, and pushed one panel aside. Behind the heavy curtain, the glass patio door stood open far enough for the dog to have squeezed out. Indeed, when he stuck his head out, he could see the setter's paw tracks in the snow…inside the heavy boot prints at the bottom of a trench someone had waded.

  “God, no. Jesus, Kymbria, you can't do this alone!”

  He shoved the glass door shut and raced into the kitchen. Nodinens caught his arm as he
opened the outside door.

  “Wait!” she demanded.

  Caleb glanced out the window before answering her. Over by the garage, he caught a red flash as the dog struggled through the deep snow. He threw the door open.

  “Scarlet!” he called. “Come!”

  At first, the setter obeyed him, but she stopped a few feet away and barked.

  “Get in here!” Caleb ordered, but Scarlet refused.

  He glanced at Nodinens. “Kymbria's gone. She slipped out the patio doors in the other bedroom. I think she's gone after the windigo.”

  “Of course she has,” Nodinens agreed. “And you are going after her. But don't go unprepared. That will help neither of you.”

  He glared at the tiny woman as though she were the cause of the hollow pit of anxiety in his stomach. “She has no business out there. Not in the shape she's in! She was falling apart earlier tonight.”

  “And we have no right to stop her. She has done this of her own free will.”

  “We need to get the dog inside,” he said in a distracted voice. “She'll have our hides if anything happens to Scarlet before she gets back.” Assuming she makes it back.

  Nodinens stepped through the doorway, pushing Caleb back inside. “Come!” she ordered the dog, one hand pointing behind her at the open door. The setter stared at Nodinens for a second, then slunk towards her and into the cabin. Nodinens shut the door firmly.

  “You.” She pointed at Caleb. “You check your protections. Make sure you have enough. Where is the one you wear around your neck?”

  Caleb's hand instinctively went to his throat, where he grabbed the zipper clasp and pulled it down. Then he remembered the chain had bothered him as he drove. He drew it out of his coat pocket and dropped it over his head, securing it inside his shirt. By then, Nodinens was holding out a ski mask.

  “There is one snowmobile left in the garage,” she said. “For something to do, I went out earlier and checked it over. The spark plug was bad, so I put in a new one I found on a shelf. But you must fill it with gas again before you go. I will contact Sheriff Hjak as soon as I can, but I need a phone for that. The cabin one is not working again.”

  Caleb handed her his sat-phone. “It's working. I just got a call.”

  When Nodinens nodded, Caleb stared at the phone. Skippy. He was alive. A windigo hadn't desecrated his life after all. He had no reason for revenge. No reason to discover how to kill this paranormal beast, then return to Colorado to hunt the other one.

  I have plenty of reason to go after this windigo. The woman I care about…perhaps love…is in danger.

  Chapter 47

  Although she half expected it, the eerie howl that shattered the early-morning peacefulness and beauty crawled over Kymbria's skin like scurrying spider legs. Her mouth dried, and her gloved hands clenched the snowmobile controls so tightly she could feel the grooves in the hard plastic through the thick warmth. Her gaze searched ahead, since even though the howl echoed on all sides, she felt sure the beast waited up near the cave she and Jason had found.

  The cave up the rise in front of her, a rise she would have to walk up, since it was far too steep for the snowmobile.

  She parked the machine and swung off to strap on her snowshoes. She zipped her flashlight into a pocket even though she didn't need it in the pre-dawn moonlight reflecting on the snow.

  The animal howled again, a hint of impatience in the sound. When the echoes faded, a silence as deep as a grave descended. Before she started up the rise, Kymbria stood for a moment, allowing her senses free rein as she repeated the prayer for entering the land of souls.

  “Adam?” she murmured, though the Midé had been dead for a decade now. “I trust you're with me. I hope I remember all the things you taught me. This might be my destiny, but I truly hope it's just one of those mountains in my life path to climb. That I'll be able to continue onward after this confrontation.” She paused, then went on in a heartfelt voice, entreating the deceased Midé, “That I’ll return to my daughter, to Risa, after this is done.”

  She closed her eyes briefly and visualized Risa: her dancing eyes when she was happy, her pursed lips and the frown on her face as she contemplated a taste of something new Kymbria gave her. Her giggles and reaching arms when she woke in the morning and saw her mother standing over her crib.

  Yes, even the dimple in only one cheek, a likeness from Rick, her father.

  “But if this is to be the one final mountain, the one I can't climb,” Kymbria continued, “the one that ends this life, then I hope you are waiting on the edge of the afterlife to guide me. And will help guide me in learning how to watch over Risa from over there as my mother raises her.”

  Something whispered across her mind, and Kymbria concentrated and caught it. You are not sure of your own strength. None of us are. Always remember, though, that the spirits direct our paths, our destiny. And remember: Fill your heart with good. Choose selflessness over selfishness, good over evil. Upright then will be your life and against evil you will prevail.

  “Adam,” she repeated. “Thank you for being with me.”

  She took a deep breath, then reached inside her snowsuit for the spirit bundle and untied the knot that held the thong around her neck. Before she could change her mind or consider whether or not it was the right decision, she followed her instincts and pulled the bundle free. She studied it for a long moment, then gently laid it on the leather seat. After she removed her helmet and dropped it in the snow, Kymbria started her climb up the rise.

  Chapter 48

  It stared down from the mouth of the lair as She climbed. Her snowshoes rode atop the drifts as though she were weightless. It tried to remember the feeling from a few days ago, standing here on the first day of this season's wakening. Tried to recall that long-lost emotion of hope. Instead, hunger tore at It.

  No! This cannot be. This will not be. She is not prey. She is the answer to all these seasons of punishment and torment. The release I need. I have paid the price for what I did. I lost the woman I loved, the life we could have had. Missed out on seeing our son she carried. It is time for this to end.

  But the closer the woman came, the stronger the two sensations raged inside and tortured It. Hope and hunger both vied for dominance. When hope reigned briefly, It struggled to keep that in the forefront. But hunger would growl upwards as the sensations of satisfaction after a meal and heightened powers battled for notice.

  It hadn't fulfilled the number of prey for this season. Could this existence end without that?

  The figure moving up the hill held the promise of satiation, the fat and lean meat, the warm red blood, sinew and marrow, which renewed the power each season. Power that grew until It was able to forget the pain and regrets of this existence. Power also fed by the revenge exacted from the descendants of the man who had exposed Its cannibalism and led It to this existence.

  By the time She was close enough for It to see the dark brown depths of her eyes through the slits in the facemask, hope dominated. The need for vengeance paled when compared to the thought of finding Nimiwin in the land of their ancestors. Her death might satisfy It for a while, but only until hunger surfaced again. Hope, if fed correctly, would culminate in the greatest satisfaction of all.

  She halted when It stepped out the entrance to the lair. Horror, fear and determination warred in her eyes. It hesitated, waiting. A mistake, It realized at once. Her smell carried on a slight uphill wind. Hunger gained victory, and in the blink of an eye in time, It had the woman in Its paws back inside the lair. She screamed in terror and clawed, barely missing Its eyes. Enraged, It flung her against the wall, and She crumbled. Hunger roared in triumph.

  Chapter 49

  Blackness hovered on the edge of Kymbria’s consciousness, yet the smell penetrated her mind's attempt to send her into oblivion and block out the abject terror. Fear immobilized her as much as the impact with the wall and the waves of pain in her shoulders and back. She slit her eyes to stare at the monster. None of
her mental preparations had prepared her for the actual confrontation with the beast in its lair — the odor, the feeling of helplessness when it swiped her up. The razor-sharp claws that slashed the back of her snowsuit when it flung her away.

  She could smell her own blood seeping from the slashes — and the beast sniffed, also.

  Oh, god, it would eat her before she could attempt to communicate with it.

  Somehow she dredged up Adam's voice.

  Against evil prevail.

  Instead of reaching for her, the windigo crouched. Kymbria controlled the gasps of fear pushing at her throat and feigned unconsciousness as she studied it. Ice crystals of saliva matted the fur beneath where the mouth would be.

  By all rights, she should have been truly unconscious. The beast had thrown her hard enough. She hadn't even realized it had taken her prisoner until she was in the lair, in its grasp, the odor gagging her. Instinctively, she’d clawed at it, then flew through the air, tensed as she waited for the crushing pain of impact. Cold seeped through gashes opened in her snowsuit by the sharp daggers on the ends of his arms.

  She had slid down the wall and landed on something, perhaps the pile of clothing from the dead Nodinens had dug through. She could already imagine the legions of infectious bugs crawling into her wounds.

  The pain finally receded until it wasn't debilitating. The greater problem was trying to breathe through the odor of the beast.

  You are awake. My vision is excellent when compared to your puny sight. I can see your eyes.

  She struggled up to brace against the cold stone behind her. Bile rose through the fear as the situation impacted her. She couldn't believe her own stupidity. What chance did she have against such a foul, huge beast? Here in its own lair, filled with bones and clothing of hundreds of past kills, meals eaten to fuel its horrendous powers.