A pair of wolves lie in front of the shack. At first I didn’t see them, enticed by the shine of glass jars filled with preserves. Then, I saw the glowing eyes- heard the low rumble of their displeasure. Not knowing my location, I stumble blindly away, cursing my bad fortune at having lost the nearest shelter.
I stumble blindly through the woods, saplings and jagged roots erupting from the ground like teeth. I escape the jaws of the wood when I come across a lookout. It leans perilously to one side, creaking as the wind picks up and begins to pummel the fragile structure. Fearing the blinding shards of ice that begin to fall more than the integrity of the structure, I climb and look out into the black landscape. A sharpened stick leans against one wall. Absentmindedly, I heft the weight in my hands and thump the pole into the rotted wood floor. A plank breaks off and lands silently in the snow. I stare at the hole, unblinking, until my vision begins to blur.
I trudge through the snow and come to a clearing I spotted through the rotted window of the lookout tower. As I leave the dark shadows of the forest, I feel strangely exposed. I stumble as I trudge across a snow drift, and my foot catches on a rail hidden in the powder. An old hunter’s blind. I use my hiking stick to brush away enough snow to get an idea of the general shape of the thing, and flip it around, using the sharpened end as a wedge to pry open the slats fused by rust. One snaps, leaving a hole that reveals a bright orange bottle thick with dust. I thrust my arm through and am rewarded with a vial of 30 of Purdue’s finest.
Pills rattle merrily as I wander. I cannot panic. I press forward and a red glow washes across the undergrowth a few hundred yards ahead of me. Blinking, unbelieving, I wait for its flash. Again. And again. I see a radio tower barely visible above the trees. Flash. I strain my eyes against the dark and feel the snow below me compress. And rise. In the rhythm of the radio tower’s glare, the snow beneath me rises and falls. I freeze with the realization that…something is below me. I ease backwards, wincing with every crunch of my boots as the rhythm of the snow gets more powerful. A bear, I think, wild with fear. Shouldn’t it be hibernating? I break into a run as the snow behind me shifts…and erupts.
I finally slow, panting, as I come across a series of mounds in the snow. Staged in a circle, they feel ritualistic. Uneasy, I skirt across the edge of the ring. I tap the smallest mound with my boot, and a sheet of snow cascades off of it, revealing a tent. I quickly fumble with the zipper and peer inside- there’s nothing in it but a ragged sleeping bag and a pair of walkie talkies. I grab the radios and scurry on, imagining the beast’s breath hot on my neck.
I slow to a trot, the lumps under the snow forming a rhythm beneath my feet. I run my walking stick below the powder, and it follows a metal beam just below. A railroad. I lift my eyes skyward, relieved. Civilization. I follow the tracks until I see an overturned railcar yawning in the distance. A manmade cave, mercifully dropped here for me. I gingerly step over the torn metal of the entrance, collapsing in a corner from relief. Shelter, Finally. I sit and, hands shaking, dig into my bag until I find a walkie talkie. Somehow, the batteries still had juice, and the radio obligingly clicked on. I immediately freeze, chilled to my core, as a cacophony of rage erupts from the speakers. I wanted nothing more than to turn the damn thing off, but I could not. I was paralyzed. The siren’s scream pierced my skull, shattered my thoughts. My vision swims and fades. I black out, and when I come to, I am no longer myself. I’m aware of my body- my human body- but I occupy something else.
I feel my hooves gain purchase in the icy crust, feel the sachets of pine whip my flanks, the last vestiges of my slumber exhaled with my wild screams. I am the sound of thunderous hooves and a multi-layered, chilling howl, the agony of a thousand lives woven into one punishing blanket of sound. And suddenly the batteries of the walkie talkie die. I am back in my trembling human body, with the knowledge that I am prey.
I realize, in my terror, I have stumbled across the plane that crashed and left me in this barren hellscape. The air is thick with smoke as the wreckage continues to smoulder. I do not look at the pilot. Still buckled in. I do not think about the controls blaring. About the mountain, shrouded in mist that did not show up on radar. A stifling fog of silence covers the wreckage, and I realize there is a being wreathed in smoke, and as terrified as I am. A moose stalks the water’s edge, its eyes rolling in their sockets. I pause, silent and unmoving, eyes watering. I beg myself not to cough as the sea breeze mingles with the acrid scent of fuel and flesh. The moose charges past me in the moonlight. My heart races long after it’s gone.
I nervously follow the coast, moonlight shining on the water as I flee, calves burning, pushing away from the sand. Gradually, the terrain turns rocky. The creature’s roar reverberates in my memory until I think I will go mad, but I stumble forward, my hiking stick guiding me when my eyes close in agony. I take a painkiller, letting a soft opioid blanket drape over me. The shrill bellow in my mind is broken by the rock wall of a cave. A sheer whistle reverberates throughout the cave. The air moist and stale, with the ozonic tang of fear.
I know it is coming for me. I blink through the opioid haze, wielding my sharpened hiking stick. I face the cave entrance and swipe my fingers through the dense clay floor, packing my ears with mud. I wait. I see its shadow blocking the starlight, and will my body to stay still. I know the adrenaline of being a hunter. I am new to being hunted.
I see a terrible mouth, open in a scream. Its a large, elk-like creature, drooling with sharp teeth. Clumsy with fear, I jab my makeshift pike at the creature. I graze its graceful bronze neck, which arches into a needle point with its mean teeth. They grab my arm, tearing my flesh. It turns to face me again- I silently thank myself for my propensity towards drug use as I use my staff as a counterweight, unphased by the pain. I jab the pike smoothly into the soft innocence under its rib, and I’m thrown off balance as the staff is wedged into the creature. The beast rears, slamming me into the ground, it’s mighty hoof narrowly missing my head. It collapses onto its front knees, in a sort of bow. Momentarily staggered, I clamber to my feet. And then, it strikes. I use the last of my strength to stab my pike through its neck as its slavering teeth rip through my thigh. I immediately feel dizzy as the beast whirls on one hoof, snapping madly at the staff draining its life blood. I watch the terrible shape move further away from me, blurring. It collapses in the surf, its mouth open as the foam laps over its still screaming mouth. I slump against the entrance of the cave, and close my eyes as the sky begins to lighten.
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