Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

I decide, reluctantly, to postpone any further investigation until morning. I need a clear head if I’m going to try to piece together this puzzle, and there isn’t much I can see in the dark anyway, not to mention I don’t really want to get anyone else involved. I’m already with Ben in his tent, and I’ll have to give him an explanation if I try to sneak out. No doubt he’ll notice me trying to leave, even if he’s asleep.

As the best hunter we have, it’s safe to assume that his observation skills are above average. That aside, from what I know of Ben, he’s more intelligent than he lets on- hunter or not.

He will ask questions. Questions that I really don’t want to answer. Although he knows I’m here for my mother, I only told him this so that he could help me get this far. I don’t need his help anymore unless it involves saving my life from time to time. I don’t want his help either, preferring to keep my problems to myself.

The fur blankets that Ben hands me are soft and warm. One is made of elk fur, like most of our clothes and blankets back at the village, and the other is wolf. I recognize it as the pelt of one of our dogs from this morning. Rather than letting that bother me, though, I understand perfectly.

There isn’t much room for emotional attachment to things when you live this kind of life. There’s no sense in letting something go to waste when it could save your life one day. If something dies, you take what it has. This dog might not have survived our journey, but it hadn’t outlived its usefulness yet.

I lie down on the blanket of elk fur and use the wolf as a sort of pillow, covering myself with my share of the fur we took from the Ice Beast earlier. The heat that comes off my body doesn’t take long to fill up the small cocoon I’ve created around myself, and I stop shivering from the cold.

Ben and I don’t have much conversation as we both settle down for the night. Even if we wanted to talk, we’re both too exhausted. Ben mutters goodnight before he pulls his blanket over his head and I can’t see him anymore. I can tell by the way his breathing immediately slows down that he has no trouble falling asleep.

I wish I could do that too. I close my eyes and wait for sleep to kick in, but it doesn’t take me long to realize that I’m in for a long night, as tired as I am. The gears of my feverish mind refuse to stop turning, even after my body has given in to the fatigue. As a result, I end up losing only half of my consciousness, and I have very strange dreams that all merge together and confuse me.

Somewhere in the midst of my dreaming, my reoccurring nightmare returns, only it has evolved once again to include the bodies of Chris, Maurice, Dustin and the others. But the last one that I see, the one that the nightmare ends with, is Ben’s. I don’t know why, but his death seems to impact me more than anyone else’s, and all I can hear is my mother’s voice echoing in my head saying “It has to be done… It has to be done…”

By the time dawn arrives, I’m in that strange place where you can’t tell the difference between reality and imagination. My muscles ache, and I feel anything but well rested.

I get the feeling that something is near me. There is another source of heat here other than myself; I can feel it against my back. I shift slightly and press against something warm and solid. Then I feel someone’s soft breath on the back of my neck

Whoa, what is going on here?

I stiffen and sit up suddenly, my head spinning from the rush of blood to my brain that ensues.

“Hey! Stay on your side of the tent you creep!” I growl and lash out at Ben with a fist, fully intending on sending him to the other side of the world if need be.

Except it’s not Ben at all.

My arm stops just short of hitting the now cowering figure at my side and I let my fist drop, not sure how I should react. It’s that damned dog… Fatso. He crouches low, belly brushing the ground, and looks up at me with pure terror in his eyes as if he wasn’t expecting that reaction from me. It only proves his stupidity, because every other living creature in the world knows what happens when you try to snuggle with Lilith Bane.

“Wow.” Ben raises his eyebrows in what seems to be an amused way while he sharpens his knife, calmly sitting on his side of the tent, far away from me, “You thought that was me? Let’s make one thing very clear princess: I’m way out of your league.”

The burn of embarrassment makes my cheeks turn hot and I don’t know what to say to him to recuperate my dignity. I think he knows this, because the edges of his mouth twitch like he’s fighting a smile. I turn my attention to the dog instead.

“What is he doing in here?” I ask while Fatso rolls over onto his back and starts wagging his tail at me as if to ask for forgiveness.

“You tell me. He’s your dog.” Ben shrugs, “He kept whining to come inside and eventually I had to let him when he started trying to chew his way in.”

“He’s not mine.” I seethe, glaring down at the animal. Does this imbecilic dog not know who I am? Of all the people here, why did it want me? “What’s wrong with you?” I ask Fatso directly, but he just takes that as a sign of encouragement and tries to lick me.

My boots are somewhere on the ground near me, and I pick one up to toss it angrily at him. Fatso finds a way to dodge the projectile and leaps on me, knocking me flat onto my back, before attacking my face with his disgusting tongue. The smell of his dog breath is extremely unpleasant and I grapple with him, trying to shove him off. He’s stronger than he looks, and his tail wags a hundred miles per hour while he just continues to shower me with affection against my will.

I finally manage to grab Fatso by the scruff and drag him off of me, wiping my now slimy face with the sleeve of my coat. As I sit up, I see that Ben is laughing, probably finding this all to be very entertaining. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him laugh before… Why does it make me want to laugh too? I hold it back and try to look as irritated as possible.

“You should be thankful that at least someone in this world likes you.” Ben teases, putting his knife away and getting to his feet.

“Shouldn’t you be outside bossing people around or something?” I snort, stretching out my sore limbs and yawning.

“And miss the show? No way. You’re funny when you sleep.”

I raise a brow at Ben, “What show?”

“Oh… nothing.” Ben smirks, “You talk in your sleep. That’s all.”

I do what now? “N-no I don’t…” I stutter, feeling a little bit violated. I’ve never shared a tent with someone before other than with my parents when I was very small, so I guess I wouldn’t know what I do in my sleep. Oh no, what did I say?

“Yes you do. You said my name like ten times in your sleep last night.” Ben offers me a hand to help me stand, but I don’t take it, “What was I doing in your dreams, hmm?” He winks, taking full advantage of this opportunity to have a laugh at my expense.

I’m not really sure what to do. I feel a mix of emotions ranging from embarrassment to anger at being mocked by Ben, and yet somehow I find myself battling a grin. Such conflicting thoughts in my head give me a headache. In the end I choose a more noncommittal response, as it seems to be the only one I can decide on.

I stand up without his help and toss my hair over my shoulder before stepping out of the tent, leaving him behind. He chuckles and follows me out, Fatso at our heels.

The crisp, cold air that hits me sharpens my senses when I step outside, waking me up. I leave the nonsense of the past few minutes behind me to focus on the day ahead, and on what has been my objective since the beginning of this journey.

Ben and I aren’t the only ones awake. Everyone else is already preparing to leave, and while they distract themselves with the chore of packing up their tents and gathering their things, I take off towards the forest. I know that I will never have any true rest until I settle this once and for all.

K.B. That has to stand for Kaya Bane. No one else here has those initials, and we’re the only people around as far as I can tell. It takes me a while to find the tree but eventually I see it. My heart pounds wildly in my chest as I run my fingers over the carved letters. It seems as if my mother had used a hunting knife to embed her initials into the trunk of the tree.

I start to think about what this means, putting myself in her shoes. Did she leave this to mark her trail so that I could follow her? If so, that means there has to be more marks somewhere. Also, the fact that it’s on the trail that we’re taking tells me that this mission was linked to the hunters.

My father said on the night that her death was made official that she always did hold onto the hope that the missing hunters were ok somewhere. I don’t really think that makes sense though, because none of the hunters that survived those trips had even the slightest doubt that the others were dead. Is it possible that she lied to my father when perhaps, he noticed she was worried? How did she know what trail the hunters took? How did she even sneak out? There were too many questions and no answers anywhere.

I venture deeper into the woods, scrutinizing everything that might be suspicious to me, but end up finding nothing to explain the mysterious initials. I don’t want to give up, but for the moment I have to admit defeat. Maybe I’ll find more clues along the way, but right now I need to return to camp.

When I get back I make a beeline for Ben’s sled and start rummaging through my supplies to find something for breakfast. I catch Nathaniel walking past me in my peripheral vision, and something seems off. Normally I wouldn’t care enough about Nathaniel to really notice what he’s doing, but this just strikes me as odd.

Why is he limping?

Dustin’s sled is closest to mine so I turn to him, tugging on his sleeve to get his attention. “What?” He turns to me curiously.

“What’s wrong with him?” I nod towards Nathaniel.

The blonde boy frowns when I ask him this, and his baby blue eyes take on a worried expression, “Last night when we went patrolling he lost his balance and fell from a shallow cliff. I heard him calling for help and pulled him out, but he busted up his ankle pretty badly.”

“Will he be ok?” I know the answer to the question but I ask it anyway, hoping against logic that there would be a better reply. But Dustin’s silence means that we’re both thinking the same thing: no, he’s not ok.

If we had been at home, an injury like this would mean nothing. Some rest would help him heal in a couple of weeks, depending on the severity of the damage done to his ankle. But out here there was one rule: survival of the fittest. If you’re handicapped in any way, you’ve already lost half the battle, and nature will take notice.

Randall is probably going to lose a couple of toes from frostbite, but Nathaniel seems to be much worse off. I suspect that he fractured something. With every step that he takes I can tell that it’s agony for him to put any weight on the injured foot. How will he even ride his sled?

Ben is with us now at the sled, assembling his dog team, and Dustin looks at his leader expectantly, “Nathaniel needs help. Maybe Lilith could take his sled and he can ride in one of ours, lying down.”

I can see Ben thinking while he tightens the straps that hold his supplies in place, his mouth a straight line, “I want Lilith with me. She doesn’t have enough experience to guide a sled. Anyway, there’s no room for Nathaniel to fit in someone else’s sled with all of the supplies. He’s just going to have to be strong.”

“But there’s no way that he’ll-“

“Dustin…” Ben stands up straight and looks the younger boy in the eyes, as if challenging him to say something else, “Nathaniel knows the risks of being a hunter. He wouldn’t be out here in the first place if he wasn’t strong enough to survive.”

“Yes s-sir.” Dustin replies reluctantly.

Someone puts out the small fire we had going this morning, and the conversation ends there, because now it’s time to leave.

Like before, Ben takes his place behind me and waits for everyone to be ready. Randall hobbles over to his sled while Dustin helps Nathaniel get to his. Nathaniel’s dogs are enthusiastic and ready to run. Every movement they make rattles the sled, and I watch the injured hunter’s face go pale with the pain that it causes him.

Impatient to leave, Ben takes off without warning and the other hunters scramble to follow him. We fall into a single file line as we once more race through the icy tundra in search of the missing elk.

Today, I’m better prepared to handle the tricky business of staying on the sled. Unfortunately, that leaves my mind free to wander, and once again I find myself becoming distracted by Ben’s proximity to me. The more time I spend with him, the more I think of him, it seems. Six months ago I barely knew the guy. I even learned to hate him. Now he’s my lifeline, and I’m already frightened that I rely on him too much. This can’t be allowed to continue.

“Ben! Where are you going?” After about an hour of traveling in silence, Maurice calls out to Ben, and the head hunter slows to a stop.

We’ve reached a fork in the path. To the right is what seems to be an ice field. To the left is more forest. Ben had started bearing to the left, and that’s when Maurice spoke up.

Ben turns around to answer him, “It’s not safe the other way.”

I can see a nervous look on Maurice’s face, “This is Dire Wolf territory… it’s not safe this way.”

None of the hunters here had been on the last two hunts. None of them, that is, except for Maurice. He had gone with Ben to the last one, and they had been the only two survivors. If I had to trust anyone’s opinion, I could trust his. But I also trust Ben, and as I look at the faces of the other hunters I know they’re just as torn as I am.

“Don’t you remember what happened last time we crossed through here?” Ben frowns, insisting stubbornly, “The other way is Ice Beast territory. We’ve already been attacked by one Ice Beast and we got lucky. I don’t want to go through that again.”

“I’d rather face a lone Ice Beast than a pack of Dire Wolves…” Maurice swallows hard, clearly upset but trying to stay calm.

“I’m not going there again!” Ben replies with finality, refusing to listen, “We’re going this way.”

Without another word, he takes off in the direction of his choice. Moments later, the other hunters reluctantly follow.

Dire Wolves, like the Ice Beast, were also created by scientists, that is, if Ben’s story is correct. The Dire Wolf must have been the first creation ever, because in the records it’s known as Experiment 1. I’m not sure why they were created, because wolves never went extinct. Maybe, in view of their dwindling population, the scientists thought they’d start early and prevent extinction in the first place. But although Dire Wolves have been known to interbreed with other wolves, they are not the same. We can domesticate a wolf. A Dire Wolf would rather kill a human than befriend one. As a matter of fact, we’re their preferred prey.

Personally, I don’t think either choice is a good one. It doesn’t matter if we choose left or right, because something is always going to attack us. I can’t help but feel a bit overwhelmed when the gravity of this situation sets in. Ice Beasts, Dire Wolves, and who knows what else would be things that I would actually have to face out here. They were no longer tales that the elders would tell me to make me behave. They were real. People that I know would probably die. I could die. My nightmares would come true.

The image of the bodies lined up in the snow flashes before my eyes again and I shake my head to clear it. No… it won’t happen. We’ll be ok. That’s not going to happen. It’s almost like I have to have a chant to tell myself over and over again, but none of my lame attempts to convince myself work.

I don’t realize that I’m leaning back against Ben, shivering, until he says, “You ok? You’ll be safe. Nothing’s going to happen. I know I’m right.”

“Can you promise that?” I stutter, unable to take comfort in his reassurance.

Ben is silent for a long time before he finally answers me, “Nothing’s going to happen to you. I can promise that.”

That’s a strange thing to promise, I think to myself. I know he’s trying to make me feel better by making me feel safe specifically. But I know he can’t keep that promise no matter how hard he tries. Too many things can go wrong. So many have gone wrong already.

“You don’t believe me.” Ben can sense by my silence that I’m still uneasy, “I mean it though. I’ll keep you safe.”

Unless you bump your head again. I try really hard not to say that out loud.

I don’t say anything while we traverse through the forest around us. I have a very uneasy feeling. Instantly I can see why Maurice didn’t want to come here, although I can’t speak for how it compares to wherever he wanted to go originally. The air somehow feels colder, the sky darker. Everything just feels… off. I shudder and, unlike yesterday, I don’t look around in awe. I just stare down at my hands and try to shake off this bad feeling.

Are we being watched?

We’re forced to slow down to navigate around the trees. I notice that the dogs are alert as well, their ears pricked forward attentively, hackles raised. I believe that animals can sense things before people can. If they don’t like being here, we should probably listen to them.

That’s when I hear a low growl followed by a whimper. It didn’t come from our dogs because the sound is very distinct. It’s deeper, and comes from a larger animal. I don’t know if it’s my mounting fear but I swear I see red, glowing eyes peering out at us from behind the foliage, watching our every move. The shadows are alive. I see them moving.

Something darts out from under one of the trees and snaps at one of our dogs. The dog leaps away, frightened, but he’s ok. Whatever had provoked it must be purposely toying with our minds, because it retreats without trying anything else. However, now the whole pack is panicking, and they start to whimper and howl.

“We need to move faster…” Maurice dodges nervous glances behind him.

“We can’t.” Even Ben sounds nervous now. He does pick up the pace ever so slightly, but we still can’t run through the forest at top speed without risking smashing into something.

The howling gets louder. But it’s no longer our dogs that are doing it. It’s them. And they’re rallying for the hunt.

We’re going as fast as we can go now, but it’s still painfully slow for someone in our situation. Finally, it seems as if fate has decided to smile down on us just this once because suddenly there’s a break in the trees, and we break out into a clearing, where we instantly take off at full speed.

We’re not safe yet. We’re still in Dire Wolf territory, but now there’s a possible chance that we can outrun them. I turn around to see if everyone is still behind us. Maurice is the first one I see, then Chris, Dustin, Neal and Randall.

But the last one, Nathaniel, is taking too long.

I begin to worry about him when suddenly there he is. He’s barely holding onto his sled and he starts to slide off. His dogs are so frantic that they don’t listen to his command to slow down for him to adjust himself. As soon as they see the rest of us running they follow suit without missing a beat.

He’s going to fall off…

The inevitable happens and Nathaniel loses his grip on the sled, falling to the ground hard enough that I can hear the impact. He struggles to get to his feet, but with his injury he can barely move, and even if he could run he’d still never catch up to his sled.

“Ben! Stop! Nathaniel needs help!” I turn to him and then try to meet the eyes of the other hunters, who all glance backwards as well. Still, none of them stop, even if they see what’s happening.

“There’s no time.” Ben says in a flat voice.

I turn to get a glimpse of Nathaniel again but all I can see is the tip of his gloved hand as his body gets dragged back into the forest by some unseen force. A four-legged form breaks out of the tree line and gives chase to us, followed by two more.

All we can do is go faster.

I try to block out the sounds of Nathaniel’s agonizing screams as he is eaten alive, and focus on not suffering the same fate.

Author's Note

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