Summer pulled back on the chord, and the fox cried its distinct call to show its displeasure. Summer took out another piece of jerky and broke it in two. This time, she knelt with one knee in the snow and extended her arm, the jerky resting on her flat palm with her fingers together.
The fox did not move towards it, but stared at Summer and the jerky as if it were trying to analyze the safety of the situation. Summer remained as still as the animal, and it slowly began to move its way towards the food with the posture of a sneaking cat. Each paw was carefully placed lightly in the snow, and the creature’s shifty eyes were very much intent on the piece of dried meat. It stopped when it was within Summer’s reach and again seemed to hesitate to get so close, except for the gnawing hunger that showed in the sharp outline of the ribs underneath its furry coat.
Summer dropped the jerky onto the ground and quickly threw another rope around its body and succinctly tied a knot. The fox leaped back, but not before Summer had also managed to slip the first snare off of its back foot.
The fox grew wild now and thrashed back and forth, pulling at the rope with the desperate urge to be free. Summer held the line firmly, but did not pull on the slack. This allowed the fox to run and jump in its spasms, while not being released from the radius of the rope. Summer sat down and picked up the jerky from the ground as she waited for the animal to tire. Eventually, the spasms became more spread apart until the fox was merely pacing back and forth, looking across the stream and back at Summer.
Summer once again threw the piece of jerky near the fox, and it hesitantly accepted the offering as it bent its head down, while keeping its eyes stuck on Summer. She had never seen such brilliant eyes before. They had more dimensions than any she had seen in a human’s, and Summer wondered what that fox would tell if it could speak. Its eyes didn’t have walls, but instead a dark depth that obscured any other creature from seeing into them too far.
The gracefulness of the animal was alluring, as it was a hybrid between the strength of a dog and the stealth of a cat. Yet, this animal had resisted domestication unlike its fellow creatures, preferring wild freedom over safe control. The one thing its eyes did reveal was a mischief that was primary in its nature and could not be tamed out by any kind of human. Summer suspected that was what gave it the driving force to act besides the survival instincts in all animals. She liked that about foxes, and as she watched it pace back and forth, the rope in her hand began to appear cruel.
She had grown accustomed to having to press her will against the elements of nature because her life no longer had the luxury of assured survival. Each new triumph over her environment meant one more advantage for her and those she protected. Therefore, her life was consumed with creating as many advantages as possible. But, this was one thing she did not want to conquer.
She stood up and approached the fox. With the tug of the rope and her approach, the fox lunged forward for the first time and bared its teeth at Summer. She, again, took out her ax and cautiously continued to walk towards the animal. The fox let out an angry warning cry, but the human did not stop. Summer jumped forward and grabbed onto the rope wrapped around the fox’s body. With nimble precision, she cut the cord off with her ax, but at that point, the fox had enough. It turned on her and sank its needle-sharp teeth into her right forearm. Summer cried out and wrenched her arm backward while the fox leapt away.
Summer shook her head and placed the ax back in its place. The fox stood several feet away from her and turned its head to lick the area of its body where the rope used to sit against. Summer also cradled her arm that now smarted with pain, and reprimanded herself for trying to catch the fox in the first place. She went back to the trees and quickly gathered the ropes that she had used in her trapping. She slung them over her left shoulder and made her way back to camp.
She saw her sister and mother tying their backpacks securely closed and smile up at her in greeting.
“It looks like you have a little friend.” Meline pointed past Summer’s back.
Summer turned her head to find the fox about ten paces behind her. It had followed her back to the camp, and it licked its jaws as the smell of the breakfast fire still lingered in the air.
“If you feed it, it may stay friends with us.” Summer replied, handing the last bits of her jerky to her sister.
Summer walked over to the tent closest to the fire and started taking it down with Bridger, who had already removed the stakes in the ground. She thought back to this morning when she had left his tent at the first rays of the winter sun. She remembered thinking how a doctor’s appointment years ago had broken her heart when she found out that she was infertile, but that knowledge had since turned into a small source of comfort, since pregnancy was one less thing she had to worry about now. The past two years had been like their own lifetime that made her inwardly cringe when she thought about it. It had been filled with a dull dread that was always there, even after the excruciating days where they struggled to survive in the treacherous landscape of the mountains. The dread whispered in Summer’s ear that, no matter how tiring the day, night was always coming. At first, she tried to deny it.
“This was an exception,” she told herself. “It wouldn’t happen again.”
Yet, she knew it always did.
As much as she tried to tell Bridger no, he got what he wanted in the end. Eventually, Summer opted for silence instead of worthless protests, so she had said nothing to Bridger this morning before she left. She used to feel guilty about her silence. Now she had learned that he never had anything to say afterwards. It was a mere transaction to him, and there seemed to be no reason for discussion on such a simple matter. She hated him for it. At times, she caught herself fantasizing about ways to end it. In her mind’s eye, there would be a torch in her hand, taken from the flames of a giant fire that she would never be able to feasibly create herself. Yet, it was there, and so was Bridger’s tent, with him inside of it. She walked slowly forward, her body shivering with anticipation. The end of the torch would just barely touch the base of the tent until suddenly the entire tent would catch the flame, spreading to engulf the entire shelter, and she could hear screaming inside of it.
However, she was never allowed to relish this moment because it was here where the hatred turned to herself. She knew she could never do anything of this nature because he was their protector. He was the one who watched out for everyone. He had saved them from the labor camp and he had done it all by himself. These past two years had also exposed his strength. In his rough way, he had shown something that resembled kindness. Though he always ate first, he never complained about the frustration of hunting for the rest of the family and he had never asked Summer to bear the burden. She had made that choice by herself. He wasn’t a person who spoke often, but she remembered how, during the first winter, he had taken her cold hands in his and rubbed them together until she could feel them again. During the spring, she would often find bouquets of wildflowers lying on the grass when she had finished preparing breakfast. There were even periods where he would leave her alone altogether, and she would sleep in her family’s tent every night for weeks without interruption. It was at times like these that she softened towards him and a stream of hope sung quietly into her heart. Maybe she could find a way to love him.
However, those periods of respite never lasted long, and while she yielded to him when they were alone, his forcefulness was met with her contempt-filled silence as they worked side by side during the day. Now, however, their eyes kept meeting as she helped him pull down the poles of his tent. They had been tracking the prints of a deer for the past two days, and they had decided last night that it would be better if Meline and Tania stayed at camp, while Summer and Bridger went to hunt it down. She had promised Michael that he could join them and he anxiously stood by waiting for them to finish getting ready.
“You need gloves.” Summer instructed and watched as Michael begrudgingly
went into the other tent.
“Maybe we should get married.” Summer whispered, after Michael was out of hearing range.
Bridger stared at her unimpressed.
“And who would marry us?” He asked, stuffing the tent canvas into its bag.
“I don’t know. If we found the Caravan soon—”
Bridger guffawed.
“I don’t think so.”
He turned away from her and started packing the rest of their meager gear. Summer clenched her fists, but said nothing. Honestly, it was an impossible idea considering the circumstances and it wasn’t even something that Summer wanted, but the desire to kill her omnipresent guilt was almost suffocating. It had been a weak attempt to soothe her troubled conscience, but the call to marriage as both a convention of the past and an echo from her upbringing in a religious home seemed like maybe it could offer her a sense of respectability and end the guilt inside of her. Even though Bridger’s refusal hadn’t really been any different from what she expected from him, the denial of any kind of relief caused her to still find the need to swallow the anger that rose up inside of her when he walked away.
“It’s hard to hate your savior.” She thought to herself.
Bridger provided for them. That was for certain. He was rough, but it had made her stronger. His incessant taunts had given her the push to practice with her axes until blisters formed on top of blisters. Her dependence on his ability to catch food with his arrows had been what inspired her to try the idea of the traps. She finally was able to hunt and if necessary fight for their survival, yet she knew that they would have never survived this long if he hadn’t been with them. His uncanny understanding of survival had pulled them through sickness, starvation, and whatever else Mother Nature decided to throw at them. Indeed, at times it felt like they were actually a team in some tangible way, except for the fact that Summer despised his very existence.
She picked up the backpack that Tania and Meline had packed with extra rations of their last jerky and walked up to the place where Bridger and Michael were waiting for her. The tracks left by deer hooves pranced up the mountainside, leading them even higher up in altitude than they already were.
“Let’s go.” Bridger signaled, causing the three of them to start their steep climb.
Chapter 5
Michael looked at his sister with eagerness, but remained perfectly still. During these past months, she had finally included him in something that he felt was of actual worth. She had needed someone to help set the traps with her, and though he had heard Bridger had offered to help, lately he had noticed Summer’s hesitation when it came to Bridger. However, Bridger didn’t seem to pay much attention to it and even seemed to prefer staying away from Summer’s work. Michael would never say it out loud, but something about her laying traps seemed to disturb Bridger. Instead, he liked to find a high vantage point and wait there with his crossbow. Any time Summer’s traps had failed to catch their targets because the animals had gotten spooked prematurely, Bridger’s arrows would strike down at least one beast.
Michael had become quite good at using his sling to kill rodents and birds, but the real game was the deer. A deer could feed the whole tribe for many meals, and its coat and antlers could be made into clothing and weapons.
Bridger, Michael, and his older sister had been stalking this deer for a week and a half now. They had returned once to move the rest of the family into a secluded valley, and Summer had chopped enough wood to give them fire for at least three more days. They had hardly eaten anything, since their rations were extremely low, and Michael caught himself licking his lower lip, imagining the taste of cooked venison.
The stakes were high, and Michael could sense a nervous energy in Summer that seemed to increase with each new hunt he accompanied her on. He caught her throwing looks up at Bridger, and he wondered why she kept sliding the ax on her right hip ever so slightly in and out of its holster. She had always told him to stay low and still whenever they were near the animal of prey, yet this time, her frequent looks up at Bridger made her seem like the inexperienced one.
A twig snapped, and Summer crouched down quickly beside her brother.
“This time.” He heard her mumble under her breath.
Michael still couldn’t see anything, but it sounded like that snap had come from somewhere below them over the hill. Six pairs of eyes were staring at the rise of the mountain, yet nothing moved, but the big flakes of snow floating down from the sky. Slowly, the sound of snow crunching under the weight of something approaching made Michael hold the breath in his lungs. He first saw the rack of antlers that seemed to be floating on the hill until the rest of the enormous animal came on site.
There it stood in all its majesty. One of the biggest stags that he had ever seen. It continued to walk forward with the slow method of a weary traveler going down a long road. Its coat was shaggy and thick, and its big, dark eyes looked steadily onward as it ascended the hill.
Out of the corner of his vision, Michael saw Summer look up at her pulley system that was rigged above the deer if it walked just a few more yards forward.
The giant deer stopped, and Summer froze. It surveyed its walking ground as if their roles were reversed and Summer was the one to be hunted. Michael dared not move and tried to match the perfect stillness of his sister as they crouched in the icy snow. The stag sniffed the air and took a couple more hesitant steps. Without moving his head, Michael’s eyes looked at the ropes that were now even closer to catching one of the deer’s hooves, and he prayed it would take just a few more steps.
Suddenly, the deer stopped and turned its head to the left. It bolted away from the traps and started running down the hill towards the more hilly forest to obscure its presence.
Summer burst forward, and in a blur, Michael saw her lunge, sending her ax racing through the air. The bark of a tree exploded next to the deer’s head as the ax came splicing into its trunk, but the animal skidded to the left and continued its escape.
Above them, Michael heard a string of profanity being muttered and jolted as Bridger crashed down onto the ground with his heavy boots.
“Nice going.” Bridger threw a sour look at Summer.
Michael’s sister tossed her head in agitation and quickly walked over to pick up the ax that had emptied her right holster.
“I almost had it.” She declared defiantly.
“You sure did.” Bridger threw back, picking up the backpack he had left on the forest floor before climbing into the tree.
“Your aim was terrible, and your traps were probably faulty anyway.” Bridger pitched the two remaining backpacks to Michael and Summer.
“Let’s go. I’m hungry.” Bridger led the way as they started after the animal tracks in the snow.
The deer had bolted away, but it was doubtful that it had run a long distance as its tracks only remained further apart for a couple hundred feet until they showed a narrower gait when it had probably gone back to walking.
The hillside was growing dimmer as the sun was growing low in the sky, and Michael could feel the aching emptiness in his stomach, signaling another night without dinner.
He kept noticing Summer playing with her right ax taking it in and out of its carrier even as they briskly hiked. There had always been a competitiveness between his sister and Bridger, but for whatever reason, it seemed that the longer they were together, the more aggressive it got. Not just aggressive, but harder as well. It had long ago ceased to be friendly, and the tension between the two of them in episodes like this was as thick as the sap from the trees that stuck to their clothing. Michael didn’t think much of it these days, since it seemed like survival was doing that to everything around him. He was just going to have to get used to a harder world than the one he had known before The Invasion.
Yet, these hunting trips seemed to agitate the two of them more and more, so Michael stayed back and
observed as they vied to find the deer first.
The tracks had been pretty clear for about a mile now, but Bridger paused as a significant imprint in the snow came into view. He knelt down beside it as Summer came behind him and surveyed the area.
“Something else is tracking him,” Bridger announced as he looked at the large imprint where it looked like there had been some kind of a scuffle. Random patterns of hoof marks showed signs of the deer darting in different directions.
“It’s done more than that.” Summer pointed to a small trail of blood that stained the snow leading away from the imprint.
Michael looked for other tracks that would tell them the kind of predator they were dealing with. He pointed to the sight that made his chest pound.
“Look.”
Beside the trail of blood, there were round footprints much larger than any bear tracks he had ever come across. The exact shape was indistinguishable in the recently tossed snow, and Micheal tried to think of what kind of animal was bigger than a bear in this part of the world.
Bridger took his crossbow out from behind his back and followed the deer tracks on the same side as the bigger tracks. Summer motioned Michael to follow after her, and they took down on the left side of the route. Michael glanced over at the mystery tracks on the other side of their path, and for the first time, he considered what it might feel like to be the hunted instead of the hunter.
Chapter 6
She couldn’t believe that she had missed. Again. It seemed that every spare moment that she had since she had gotten her axes had been taken to practice the very thing that she had failed at just now. She knew her traps would have worked, as much as Bridger tried to dissuade her from them. She had gone through trial and error that had weakened his faith in her ability with the traps, but Summer knew that it had just been a part of the process. Her aim, however, was not something that she could just wait for her prey to step into.
Sin: A Survival Romance Fiction (Her Story Trilogy Book 1) Page 4