by G Sauvé
We walk for hours. The air grows colder. The ambient light diminishes until our surroundings vanish. We progress in near total darkness, helping each other when we stumble.
We keep going for a while before Kara collapses. I try to help her up, but she pushes me away.
“Rest,” she mutters.
“We can’t stop.”
“Rest,” she repeats.
“We must keep going, or we’ll die.”
Kara grunts. She doesn’t seem pleased, but with my help, she reintegrates the vertical world. We continue our journey for a while before my own balance is compromised, and I crumble. I try to stand but fail miserably. It’s not until my friend helps me that I manage it. Holding each other for support, we progress through the darkness. This time, we make it nearly a full metre before a sluggish step on Kara’s part sends up tumbling forward.
I will myself to stand, but my tired body refuses to obey. I glance at Kara. Her eyes are closed, and her breathing is ragged. There’s no way she can stand.
This is it, I realize. This is how it ends.
I’m conflicted. The prospect of death terrifies me, yet at the same time, it feels like sweet relief. Not to mention the fact that I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. The prospect of eternal sleep is enticing. In fact, it’s all I can think about. I’m just about to accept the inevitability of my demise when I see it.
A dark shape. Barely visible through the storm, it’s the first sign of civilization we’ve encountered since the start of our journey. Though it could be anything, I choose to believe it’s something capable of sheltering us from the storm.
“Kara,” I groan, lifting a trembling arm and pointing at the shadowy form. “Look.”
My friend doesn’t respond. Nor does she react. She lies there, completely still.
Oh, no!
A leap to my feet, adrenaline pumping through my veins. My strength now renewed, I rush to Kara’s side and brush the snow from her face.
She doesn’t react.
“No!” I groan. “You can’t be dead. You can’t…”
My voice trails off. Pain and sorrow wash over me, all-consuming. I don’t even try to fight it. I collapse and sob. Tears trickle down my cheeks and turn to ice, but frostbite is the least of my concerns. I mourn the death of my friend, the passing of the only girl I ever loved. Death no longer scares me. In fact, I welcome it with open arms. I’m just about to sink into the snow for the final time when Kara’s eyes open.
She’s alive.
“What…” she croaks, but that’s all she manages before I kiss her. My lips are too numb to feel the caress of her mouth, but I don’t care. I keep them pressed against hers until I sense my strength start to wane.
I pull away and stand. Grabbing hold of Kara, I drag her toward the dark shape. I have no way of knowing what it is, but I refuse to let that stop me. I use every last ounce of strength I have to pull my friend to safety. It takes forever, but the shape gradually takes on the characteristics of a mountain. It’s small, but the cave that lies within fully makes up for it. I keep going, dragging Kara behind me until I reach the mouth of the cave. I use what little remains of my adrenaline to pull her to safety. No sooner have we entered the cave than I collapse. Unable to fight the exhaustion any longer, I close my eyes and drift off to sleep.
Memory 47
I ’m yanked from my slumber by a powerful growl. My eyes flutter open, but all I see is a stone surface. The sight perplexes me until I realize I’m lying on my stomach with my face pressed into the ground.
That explains the pain. Grunting, I flip onto my back. The pain fades quickly, but a soft throbbing persists. My nose feels numb. So does the rest of my face.
I focus on my surroundings. The first thing I take into account is the stone ceiling that hovers above me. For a brief moment, I think I’m back in the cavern where Jonn and I spent the last month of our lives, but the near proximity of the stone surface disproves the theory.
I try to sit, but my body is encased in a thick layer of clothing. I’m drenched in sweat, yet the air flowing in and out of my lungs is crisp and refreshing. I find this odd until the events that led me here emerge from the fog that fills my mind.
The blizzard. The frostbite. The cavern.
I look around and find Kara asleep next to me. She looks at peace. The sight of her beautiful face lures a smile to my lips.
Grunting, I sit and look around. The cave is small. Made entirely of stone, the chamber possesses two exits. The first one is rather small and vanishes into the darkness of the cavern. The second is far larger and leads outside. Beyond it, a blanket of fresh snow glistens in the sunlight. This not only tells me the storm has passed, but it proves Kara and I slept through the night. But I forget all about that when I notice the large creature that stands to my left.
It’s a bear. Well, sort of. It possesses the general characteristics of a polar bear, but its features are more elongated. Its muzzle resembles that of a dog, and its thick tail stretches on for well over a metre. Its fur is long and shaggy, and its paws are so massive they remind me of snowshoes. While undoubtedly useful for travelling across the snow-covered wasteland, I vow to remain as far from them as possible. The last thing I want is to touch the long claws that protrude from the giant paws. Then again, its fang-filled maw is just as deadly, a fact that’s made all too clear by the threatening roar that erupts from the beast’s throat.
I wait for the prehistoric bear to attack, but it seems content merely growling at us. Odds are, Kara and I unwittingly invaded its den, and its roars are intended to scare us off. Desperate to comply with the animal’s request, I shuffle toward my friend and shake her until she wakes.
“What is…” she begins, but her voice trails off when her gaze lands on me.
“Oh my god!” she gasps. “What happened to you?”
“What?” I ask, momentarily forgetting about the bear. “What’s wrong?”
Kara stares at me, aghast.
“Your face. It’s… burned.”
Burned? That makes no sense. Unless…
Frostbite. It’s the only logical explanation. No wonder my face is numb. But a little loss of sensation is the least of my concerns. Still, I can’t help wondering why Kara remains unaffected by her prolonged exposure to the elements. My frostbite must be pretty severe if she was able to notice it. Why does she look no different than she normally does? Then again, it’s not like it matters.
“We have company,” I say, gesturing to the bear.
Kara says nothing, but her eyes grow wide at the sight of the large animal.
“I think we’re in its lair,” I explain. “If we can reach the exit without exciting it, we may be able to—”
“I’m in,” interrupts Kara. “Let’s go.”
We get on all fours and crawl toward the exit. We move slowly to avoid agitating the bear, but the beast seems intent on keeping us trapped. It places itself between us and the exit, blocking our progress. We try bypassing it, but it once again interrupts our advance. This time, it accompanies its obstruction with an annoyed growl.
“Damn,” I mutter. “It’s smarter than I thought.”
“Maybe,” says Kara, “but we’re smarter.”
“You have a plan?”
“Not yet.”
“We could make a run for it,” I say, nodding toward the exit. “If we’re lucky, it will be enough to confuse it.”
“What if we’re not lucky?”
“Do you have a better plan?”
Kara shakes her head.
“In that case, get ready to run. I’ll go right. You go left.”
“Is that wise? We’re stronger together than we are apart.”
“Splitting up will confuse it,” I say. “We’re also doubling the odds that one of us will make it.”
“Why can’t we both make it?”
I can tell we’re nowhere near an agreement, so I give up on diplomacy and use action to get what I want.
�
�Ready?” I ask, but don’t wait for a response. “Go!”
I spring to my feet and bolt toward the exit. As expected, the bear moves to intercept me. Taking advantage of this, Kara barrels past it and reaches the mouth of the cave in a matter of seconds.
My plan worked. Well, sort of. Kara is safe, but my situation has gone from perilous to plain deadly. The bear towers above me, its powerful paws ready to strike at the slightest sign of danger. I take a step back, but the beast growls.
I freeze.
I’m beyond striking distance, but one step is all it will take for the prehistoric animal to put an end to my life. While it seems uninterested in killing me, there’s no doubt in my mind it would gladly maim or maul me.
I take another step back. At first, nothing happens, but then the bear lunges forward. It grabs me with one of its powerful paws and shakes me like a ragdoll. I struggle to break free, but the animal is too powerful. I thrash about for a few moments more before the paw retreats, and I crumble to the ground.
The bear stands on its hind legs and roars. The intensity of the outburst is sufficient to tell me the time for games has passed. By the time it returns to its original position, there’s no doubt in my mind my demise is upon me. Or so I think until a shape appears atop the bear’s back.
It’s Kara. She punches and scratches wildly. While admirable, her actions fail to injure the animal. All she does is annoy it. A quick swipe of the paw sends her tumbling from its back. I catch her before she hits the ground, but the lack of injuries is of little concern to her. Or me.
“Why did you do that?” I ask.
She peers deep into my eyes and smile.
“I couldn’t leave you.”
Momentarily forgetting about the bear, I lean in and kiss her. I expect her to reject me, but she doesn’t. She welcomes my lips and what unfolds is one of our most passionate kisses to date. But the magical moment ends when a powerful roar reminds us of our host’s presence.
I tear my gaze from Kara and focus on the bear. Back on its hind legs, it roars as only a prehistoric bear can. The growl is so intense the entire cavern seems to shake. By the time it fades, our odds of survival have dropped to zero.
We’re going to die.
Memory 48
T he prehistoric bear towers above us. Its maw snaps repeatedly, and its powerful paws slash at the air in a show of dominance. Soon, the claws will lacerate my frame, and the fangs will sink deep into my flesh. Soon, my life will come to an end. If I’m lucky, Kara can use my death to—
“STOP!” The voice erupts from the depths of the cave and lingers for a moment before fading.
Against all odds, the bear heeds the command. Lowering its massive front legs, it drops to the ground and takes a seat. Now calm, it wags its tail as though it were an obedient puppy waiting for its master to give it a treat for behaving well. The sight is perplexing, but I don’t let it distract me.
“This is our chance,” I tell Kara. “Let’s get out of here before it changes its mind.”
We’re about to make a run for the mouth of the cavern when a voice calls out to us.
“Wait! It’s safe. You have nothing to fear.”
I hesitate. Glancing at Kara, I ask, “What do you think?”
She shrugs, indicating the choice is mine to make.
I glance at the bear. It looks so innocent I can’t help wondering how I ever allowed it to intimidate me. Still, it’s a wild beast and every moment spent in its company is hazardous to our lives. But I forget all about that when a shape emerges from the rear of the cave.
It’s a man. His hair is tattered, and his beard is long and tangled. Both are the colour of snow. His skin is so wrinkled it could easily be mistaken for bark. His limbs are thin and frail-looking. His exact age is impossible to determine, but there’s no doubt in my mind he’s ancient.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “Snowball won’t hurt you.”
“S-snowball?” I ask, eyeing the bear.
The man nods.
“He’s a real sweetheart, but he gets a little excited when he meets new people. He’s still a cub, you know.”
“He is?”
Another nod.
“Why do you think he’s so small?”
I look the bear up and down. “Small” is the last thing I would call it, but who am I to judge? I come from a different time.
“Are you sure he’s harmless?” asks Kara.
“Of course. Watch.” He walks over to Snowball and scratches him behind the ears. Nothing happens for a few seconds, then a loud rumbling sound fills the air. At first, I fear the cavern is collapsing, but then I realize the sound is coming from Snowball.
He’s purring.
I watch, amazed, as the prehistoric pet drops to the ground and rolls over, exposing his massive stomach. The man crouches and runs his fingers through the thick fur that coats it. The purring intensifies until it’s all I can hear. It persists until the man retreats. By then, I have accepted the fact that Snowball is, indeed, harmless.
“Thank you for saving us,” says Kara, though we’re now all aware our lives were never truly in danger.
“You’re welcome,” says the man.
“I’m Kara. And this is my… friend, Will.”
I take note of the hesitation but choose not to read into it.
“It’s nice to meet you both,” says the man.
We wait for him to introduce himself, but he just stands there and stares at us.
“I don’t mean to be rude,” I say, “but do you mind telling us your name?”
“Of course. Please forgive me. I don’t usually have company.” He pauses, lost in thought. “I had a name once, but I’m no longer that person. You can call me Hermit.”
“Do you live here alone?” I ask.
“Of course not,” says Hermit. “I have Snowball.”
I glance at Kara. She says nothing, but I can tell she feels sorry for the man. There’s no telling how long he’s been living in isolation, but his odd attachment to Snowball proves we’re the first people he’s seen in quite some time.
“We appreciate your help,” says my friend, “but we should get going.”
“So soon? Why don’t you stay? I have plenty of food. I also have a cream that could help with that frostbite.” He points at my face, reminding me of my injuries.
Kara and I exchange a look. Jonn is counting on us to rescue him, but we’re of no use to him dead. Not only haven’t we eaten in over a day, but we have no clue where the facility is located. Venturing into the snowy wasteland would be tantamount to suicide.
“All right,” I say. “We’ll stay.”
“Yes,” agrees Kara. “Thank you for your hospitality.”
“It’s my pleasure,” says Hermit. “Follow me.”
He leads us deeper into the cavern. The secondary exit I noticed earlier turns out to be a narrow passage that leads deeper into the mountain. Unable to fit through the slender gap, Snowball starts to whimper, but Hermit ignores him, and the wails soon die out.
We travel along the dimly-lit passageway for about a minute before reaching another cave. Much larger than the first, this stone chamber has been arranged to resemble a dwelling. In one corner stands a bed and a hand-crafted nightstand. In another are a wooden table and four matching chairs. All but one are covered in a thick layer of dust.
‘Tal torches hang from the walls, illuminating the prehistoric dwelling. I also take into account the crude stove that stands to my left and the shelves jutting from the wall. An assortment of food and other various items are stacked atop them. Like the rest of the apartment, most are dusty to the point of being unrecognizable.
The final detail I notice is the toasty ambient temperature.
“Do you mind if we remove our clothes?” I ask.
Hermit cocks his head and stares at me.
“You want to get naked?”
At first, I think he’s kidding, but it soon becomes clear he’s serious. I guess he doesn’t get
out much.
“We have other clothes underneath,” I say. I unbutton my jacket, revealing the t-shirt that stands beneath.
“Oh,” says Hermit. “In that case, make yourselves comfortable.”
Kara and I remove our winter clothes. Meanwhile, Hermit tidies up his apartment. He clears the various objects that clutter the tabletop and dusts the chairs. He also grabs a large metal pot filled with what looks like soup and places it on the stove.
“Lunch will be served shortly,” he says once Kara and I are free of our padded clothing, “but first, I have something for you.”
“Me?” I ask, staring at his outstretched finger.
He nods, and hurrying to one of the many shelves that protrude from the walls, goes about locating my mystery gift.
“What are you looking for?” I ask.
“I’m looking for…” he begins, but his voice trails off. “Ah, there it is.”
He grabs a small jar and uncaps it.
“Here,” he says, handing it to me. “Put this on.”
I take the container and peer inside. It contains a viscous gel that smells of old feet and wet dog.
“Yuck!” I groan. “What is it?”
“It will help with your frostbite,” he says, ignoring my question.
“How does it work?”
“It halts the decay of the frozen flesh.”
“Decay?” I ask. “How bad is it?”
I glance at Kara. She averts her gaze.
“It’s bad,” says Hermit, “but it will be worse if you don’t use the cream. Come on.”
He leads me to a corner of the apartment. Unlike the rest of the cavern, this area is cold. So cold, in fact, that part of the wall is coated in a thick layer of ice. Polished with great care, the glossy surface doubles as a mirror, reflecting all that is placed before it. I hesitate for a moment before approaching. The sight that appears before me is so revolting I can’t help gasping.
I’m hideous.
The affected areas—my forehead, cheeks, nose, and part of my chin—are so pale I look like a video game geek after a summer spent playing Minecraft in his parents’ basement. The rest of my face is reminiscent of a tourist who forgot to put on sunscreen and spent the entire day out in the sun. But worst of all are the blisters. They vary in size and shape, but they all have one thing in common. They’re filled with pus and ready to burst. In fact, a few of them already have, and a clear liquid is leaking from them. The sight is so repulsive I can’t help gagging.