HYBRID KILLERS

by Will Decker

  I collapsed heavily to my knees, the pain from my shins almost too much to bear. Though it hurt me to consider it, I realized that I could do nothing in the dark. Feeling defeated, I looked around my immediate surroundings, studying the shadows intently in search of a place to hold up for the night. Finding that cavity under the pile of debris in the ravine the night before had been a fortuitous fluke. Unfortunately, it didn’t appear that it was about to be repeated.

  A darker shadow near the base of a group of trees on the far side of what appeared to be a small clearing suddenly caught my eye. It was directly along the path that I was headed, and without giving it any further thought, I focused my attention on it, and rose to my feet. The immediate pain from my lower extremities solicited a small outcry of pain, bringing tears to my eyes. Though I wanted drastically to sit back down, I forced myself to go forward, one treacherous step at a time. As I drew closer to the darker shadow, I discovered it to be nothing more than a low hanging branch drenched in snow, and hanging just high enough off the ground to form a small pocket of air beneath it. The resulting space was barely large enough to accommodate a single person in a prone position. Unfortunately, it wouldn’t afford me the opportunity to remove my boots, and massage my feet back to life. It would however, protect me from the extreme cold and any wind or snow that might kick up during the night. Though I doubted that it would snow, judging by the clear sky and bright stars.

  Trudging forward, I lethargically crawled under the bough, being careful not to disturb it for fear of dislodging the snow and bringing it down on top of me. My body ached with cold and fatigue, yet I couldn’t sleep for the hungry ache in my stomach. It continually growled obnoxiously, hungering for something besides snow. A year ago, I weighed a hale and hearty two hundred pounds. But since the tragedy, I hadn’t eaten properly or taken care of myself. When I came up the mountain, I was a paltry one seventy, maybe less. But after less than three days on the mountain, I was sure that I’d lost even more. Even through the insulation of the snowsuit, I could feel my individual ribs.

  Lying on a thin blanket of snow that had found its way under the pine bough, I tossed and turned throughout the night. Sometimes I woke up freezing, and the next, I was drenched in sweat. It didn’t help that I’d lost all sensation in my feet and ankles, and my knee joints were hurting worse than ever. Early in the morning, before predawn made the eastern horizon distinguishable, I awoke with a start; my whole body was tense and shaking from the cold. A stubborn chill had settled into my core, causing cramps and overall discomfort. It emanated from deep within my body. Though it was too late, I vowed not to eat any more snow, as I felt sure it was the cause of my chill. And though it didn’t help me during the long, cold hours of the night, I tried vainly to convince myself that it would dissipate just as soon as the sun came up, and I started moving again.

  Still shivering and cramped up, I crawled out from under the pine bough, relieved to see the sun shining brightly over the eastern horizon. With a flood of relief, I felt sure that I’d made it through the worst night of my life.

  Standing stiffly on aching joints, I casually stretched, enjoying the sunshine even though I couldn’t feel any heat from it. With new optimism, I set off in the general direction that I hoped would bring me to Sandy’s cabin.

  Within an hour of trudging, I stopped to catch my breath. To my delight, I hadn’t come across any sign of the wolves. Yet, I knew they weren’t far away. While I considered where they might be, my hand subconsciously rubbed the lump in the snowsuit pocket that contained the gun. Without realizing it, I took comfort from the heavy bulge.

  My feet didn’t regain any feeling in them, as I doggedly trudged toward my destination. It felt almost as if I were walking with blocks of kindling strapped just below my knee joints. Combined with my dwindling strength, it made my progress even slower than the day before.

  When I tripped and fell face-first into the snow, I thought at first that I must have tripped over something. But when I glanced back at my footprints, there wasn’t anything to see. As the day drew on, I fell with increasing repetition. On several occasions, I found myself dozing and waking up with no idea where I was, or where I was going. By high noon, I knew my chances of reaching Sandy’s cabin before nightfall were next to none. In addition to wandering off course several times and having to backtrack, I was moving much too slowly. By mid-afternoon, in one of my more lucid states, I realized that my chances of finding Sandy’s cabin were swiftly diminishing.

  Although I never expected it to be as easy as a walk in the park, I did expect to find her cabin within a day’s hike. And although I have a general idea of the direction that I need to go, in truth, I have no idea how far I’ve already gone, or still need to go. Unless I get really lucky and walked right up to it, I might pass it by a mile or less and not even know it. In fact, I may have already passed it.

  It had seemed so easy when I set out. All I had to do was hike through the woods, basically following familiar landmarks that I’d seen from the tractor when Fred brought me up. When I felt that I was getting close, I’d keep an eye out for smoke from her chimney or cookstove. But it was much more difficult than that. Lately, I wasn’t even seeing the snow directly in front of me, much less smoke in the sky.

  Sometime during the day, I forgot the pain in my lower extremities. On the one hand, I was thankful for this temporary respite. But on the other hand, it bothered me deeply, because it made it impossible to deny how serious the frostbite had become.

  My strength was dwindling rapidly, and I was waking up with my face in the snow with increasing frequency. It was during one of the ‘rest periods’, when I thought I heard barking. At first, it didn’t register, and seemed to be part of a dream. When I heard the scream, I awoke instantly, a cold hand of terror clutching at my heart.

  But it wasn’t for me, that I felt the terror, it was for the woman that emitted the scream. Sandy!

  While I listened intently to the terrible sounds, the scream was abruptly cut off, almost as if a door had been slammed shut on it.

  Worried and anxious, I pulled myself to my feet, and forced myself in the direction of the sounds. The realization that the barking wasn’t coming from dogs, but rather from wolves, came to me in a hazy sort of way. I couldn’t seem to grasp the importance of this knowledge, even while it filled me with dread. And yet, at the same time, it was the reason for my urgency.

  The barking seemed to be coming from just over the next rise, but try as I might, I couldn’t seem to get over it. The harder I tried to climb the slope, the more frustrated I became. With each thrust of my numb and frozen limbs, I only dug myself deeper into the snow. My heart was hammering inside my chest, my breath was roaring through my mouth, and my head was pounding from the exertion, yet I wasn’t moving. My strongest efforts to crest the rise were futile against the giving snow.

  With a sudden shot of inspiration, I realized the futility of my efforts. Instead of trying to go straight up the incline, I set off at an angle toward the nearest tree, and out of the drift that had formed in the lee of the hillock.

  Within a matter of painful minutes, I reached the tree, and from there, trudged to the crest of the slope. The effort took everything out of me, and I collapsed in the snow. But, the urgency of the situation hadn’t left me, just because my strength had. Sandy was in peril, and I had to get to her, I couldn’t lose consciousness. For Sandy’s sake, if not my own, I had to keep going!

  My body wasn’t responding to my demands. It had reached the end of its endurance, and it refused to go any farther. Between the lack of food, hypothermia, and a growing case of frostbite, my body couldn’t take anymore.

  Yet, it had to!

  With a growing resolve, I knew that if I didn’t get up immediately, I would doze off to sleep. And if I let that happen, I was sure I would ever wake.

  With a tremendous effort of will, I looked deep into my soul, searching for the strength that I needed to go on. It was there, I found the reas
ons for pushing myself harder, and why I couldn’t afford to just lie down and surrender. It was there, I found the strength to get up and force myself to forge ahead, to see where I still needed to go. And it was there that I saw Amy’s face, slowly being replaced with Sandy’s!

  I couldn’t let that happen. I wasn’t there in Amy’s hour of need and I’ll be damned if I’m not there for Sandy!

  Lifting my face up out of the snow, I looked over the crest, studying the terrain that lay ahead of me. There was a small mountain meadow, sloping gradually away on the right, while rising ever so gently to a denser stand of fir trees on the left. The sun was about to disappear behind the stand of trees, and long shadows were spilling out from between the green-dressed limbs. Under different circumstances, I would have found the view inspiring.

  As I strained my sun-blurred eyes against the setting sun, peering into the lengthening shadows at the base of the trees, I thought I saw movement. My suspicions were quickly confirmed by the howling and yapping coming from there. Without waiting to be sure, I forced myself to my feet, and started working my way down the slope towards the near side of the meadow. Something caught under my leaden foot and I fell, rolling most of the way to the bottom of the incline before I came to a stop.

  But I couldn’t give up. I took a deep breath, and rose to my feet, trying hard to ignore the pain throughout my body. Moving stiffly like a monster from a horror film, I took a few sodden steps and found myself standing on the edge of the clearing. It was a large mountain meadow that stretched a good one-half mile or more across. Now that I didn’t have the advantage of the rise to look down from, it was impossible to see the base of the trees across the clearing.

  Swaying unsteadily, I stared into the quickly diminishing sunshine. Another scream suddenly filled the air, sending a shiver of fear along my frozen spine. This time it wasn’t abruptly cut off, but continued on, slowly dissolving into a soft wail. I didn’t need to see the source of the cry to know that it was Sandy. She was still alive and she needed my help!

  **8**

  Shrugging off my limitations as so much baggage, I anxiously hobbled across the snow-covered meadow. Each step sent bolts of pain screaming through my body. I had no idea what I would or could do for Sandy when I got there; I knew only that I had to get there. Above the pounding rush of my blood in my ears, I could hear the frustrated cries of the wolf pack. They’ve treed their quarry, but they’re unable to reach it. That can only mean that Sandy has evaded them for the time being. But how long can she hold out? If they’re determined enough, they’ll find a way to get to her; they’ve shown me to be very resourceful creatures.

  As the sun dipped behind the horizon, the wind first calmed, and then picked up from a different direction. No longer was it sluicing the perspiration off my brow, instead, it gently urged me forward, its cool touch caressing the back of my neck. Because of my mounting anxiety over Sandy’s welfare, and the sharp pain that numbed my thought processes, I was hardly aware of these changes. I saw only that it was getting dark, and I still had a ways to go. It was then that the barking and yapping took on an entirely new sound. Even in my severely fatigued stated it took me less than a moment to realize that the pack had found new prey. They’d picked up a fresh scent, and they were abandoning their pursuit of Sandy!

  It took me even less time to realize that the sound of their barking was increasing rapidly, and they were heading straight toward me!

  With the change of wind direction, my scent had carried directly to them. Although I didn’t know what to do now, I was glad to have distracted them from Sandy. In some ways, it couldn’t have worked out better.

  Without considering my next move, but operating solely on impulse and instinct, I fumbled madly at the frozen zipper on the snowsuit’s pocket. Slowly, each crystal of ice resisting my clumsy efforts, I finally got it to move. After moving less than an inch, the ice built up again, and it stopped cold, net yet far enough to allow my hand through.

  I was breathing hard, and I put my hand in front of my mouth and warmed it with my moist breath. Under normal circumstances, this can be very unwise, because the moisture in exhaled breath will quickly freeze, making an object even colder than before. But desperate times dictate desperate measures, and I grabbed the frozen zipper with my temporarily warm hand, using the heat contained in it to thaw the ice from the teeth.

  Before it could cool and refreeze, I jerked hard on it with my other hand, moving it several more inches before it jammed with ice again. It was just enough, and with my bare hand, I reached into the pocket and pulled out the rabbit carcass contained within. If I hadn’t completely forgotten about it, I might have eaten it by now. But there it was.

  Now that I was holding it in front of me, I suddenly had no idea what I was going to do next. As I listened to the approaching wolf pack, I stood facing the growing sound of their barks and snarls, feeling more foolish than afraid. The only action that seemed even remotely rational was to throw the carcass at the oncoming wolf pack like an offering to them.

  By now, it had grown so dark that it was impossible to see my hand held just inches in front of my face. Since there were very few clouds in the sky that would change once the moon came up.

  But the wolves weren’t hunting me by sight; they were following their noses, and thus my scent. Yet, even in my demented state of mind, I was lucid enough to realize that I couldn’t use a single frozen rabbit carcass to distract a wolf pack while I ran to safety, even if I knew where safety was!

  If by some miracle of God, I did manage to evade their keen noses and get behind them, it was foolish to think that they wouldn’t pick up my scent again almost immediately. But even if they didn’t pick my scent up immediately, I still had no idea what lay ahead of me. Yet, it didn’t really matter. Because even as unclear as my thinking was, I realized that short of lying down and giving up, I had no other options. And as long as there was even the slightest chance, that Sandy was still alive and needed my help, that wasn’t an option.

  Wavering on my frozen feet from exhaustion and hypothermia, I waited patiently for the first of the wolf pack. Though I couldn’t see them in the dark, I had no problem sensing their looming presence and threat. When the first wolves were only feet from me, I flung the carcass at a diagonal over their heads and off to my left. I was amazed at how easy it was to get momentum behind it from swinging it by its hind legs, and then releasing it at just the right moment. In the pure darkness of the night, I couldn’t see the carcass sail through the air, but I knew that it flew outward at a low angle, barely missing the snapping jaws of the advancing beasts. To my good fortune, not all of the blood from the dead rabbit’s wounds had frozen solid. The side of the corpse resting against my body still retained some elasticity, and the wolves immediately picked up the fresh blood-scent soaring through the air, and veered after it as one.

  They had taken the bait, and were following the dead carcass away from me! In a matter of moments, they’ll find it. And then, in a matter of moments after that, they’ll have disposed of it and returned to my scent.

  Without wasting a single moment pondering my good fortune, I used the last reserves of adrenalin that I didn’t even know I possessed, and started plodding forward. It was still dark, and I couldn’t see the terrain directly before me. But stepping on unseen objects didn’t cause my stumbling; there were no objects, only dying feet.

  Moving in a straight line, I stumbled forward, angling slightly to the right, away from the wolves. If memory still served me, I was heading for the cover of the trees as I remembered them before the sun went down. And the very same place where the barking and yapping had originated from before they’d picked up my scent. It was at least three hundred feet distant. I wasn’t sure I could make it, even without the threat of the wolves behind me.

  As I passed by them unnoticed, less than thirty feet away, I was vaguely aware of them fighting over the poor rabbit’s carcass.

  When I’d gone just fifty feet of the thre
e hundred or more that I needed to cover, my strength faltered and I stumbled and sprawled face-first into the snow. My legs were numb clear to my thighs; whether the problem stemmed from exertion or cold, I couldn’t tell, and I didn’t really give a damn. All I knew for sure was that I couldn’t stop. My breath sounded like a steam engine climbing a long grade, and I worried that the wolves might hear me. I had to get moving!

  Pushing myself upright, I managed to get them under me one more time, and continued my forward plight. It was then, for the first time, I remembered the gun. But in my haste to evade the wolves, I’d neglected to replace my mittens after opening the zipper. With a sinking feeling, I knew my hands would be useless to me in their frozen condition, even if I could get the gun out of the still-zipped pocket of the snowsuit. How could I have been so careless? Why hadn’t I thought of getting the gun out sooner, or replacing the mittens earlier?

  But hindsight is twenty-twenty, and cursing me wasn’t going to help anyone, least of all, Sandy. In a more generous thought, I consoled myself with the knowledge that if I had removed the gun from the pocket earlier, I might have lost it in the snow by now anyway. At least I still had it, even if I couldn’t get to it or use it.

  When I’d covered less than half the distance to the edge of the clearing, I sensed a change in the yapping and snarling of the wolf pack. They were finished with the carcass, and were sniffing for the human scent that had eluded them earlier. To my good fortune, it was no longer being carried to them on the wind.

  Yet, they were born hunters; it would only be a matter of minutes before they discovered my scent in the snow and come bearing down on my backside. This time, I was certain that I would not be as lucky as I’d been the last.

  I briefly considered burrowing into the snow, but then quickly discarded the idea. Even if I managed to fool the wolves using that trick a second time, which I highly doubted, I would only be hastening a different demise. Once I was snuggly burrowed into the snow, I’d succumb to my fatigue and fall asleep; it would quickly become a snowy grave, a sleep from which, I would never wake.