Chapter 35
Kate
It takes two days for the snow to finally stop and for travel to be safe again. I find myself not even caring—the time holed up with Jordan has come to comfort me, ground me.
After breakfast, Jordan douses the fire and we pack up. Our clothes are nice and dry, but a large part of me doesn’t want to face what’s waiting for us on the outside.
Jordan said she saw smoke in the distance, meaning people are in these mountains.
The rumors of the cult swirled around the city for some time, but that’s all it is—a rumor.
How could they possibly survive out here?
Even if they found an abandoned visitor center, there’s more than infected they would have to contend with.
I ponder it as we move out, the cold already forcing its way under my clothes. Maybe they were survivalists, with skills like Jordan. Jordan could last out here if she needed to.
My breath forms a cloud with each exhale. Jordan keeps close by and I feel her gaze on me, watching for signs that I may need her assistance. We move in silence, keeping our senses alert. The last thing we need is to run into a hungry mountain lion.
Or a group of hungry, wild humans.
Luckily, snow isn’t falling yet, but dark clouds move overhead.
It isn’t until we’re deep in the forest that we stumble across a head mounted on a spike.
Nausea roils my stomach as we approach. Their mouth is open in a scream, their canines elongated, eyes gone.
“They were infected,” I mutter.
Jordan has an unreadable expression on her face. “Still think those were just rumors?” she asks.
“Not anymore,” I tell her, nausea and nerves mixing together. “We should go back the way we came. I don’t want to encroach on their territory.”
Jordan stares at the severed head for a few moments before saying, “You’re right. Let’s—”
The ground trembles under our feet. We freeze and look to one another for a beat before we try to find the source. I squint, eyes darting between the trees, trying to see—
“Holy fuck,” Jordan rasps, her mouth going slack.
I look in the same direction and nearly piss myself.
A massive brown bear staggers toward us, saliva dripping from its maw. I wrack my brain for how to manage running into different bear types when I notice part of its face is sliced open, skin flapping with each movement. Its only working eye tracks us, the red ring near glowing.
My hand goes to my gun as the bear roars, pulling it free—
“Get out of here,” Jordan shouts urgently, eyes not straying from the threat before us.
“Jordan—”
“Now,” she grunts as the bear charges us.
I don’t have time to see what she does before I’m running, my feet carrying me faster than I thought possible. Snarls from both it and Jordan follow me as I jump over downed trees, trying to keep myself from slipping in the snow.
Jordan may be strong, but she’s no match for a fucking bear. What is she thinking? Even if the bear smells my non-infected blood, at least I have weapons!
“Fuck this,” I mutter to myself, twisting to go back around when my foot catches on a rock.
I go down, tripping and sliding down a small hill. My vision spins as tree branches slap my face, my body. I throw my arms out, trying to catch something, to stop myself—
My fingers manage to grip a tree root and it feels like gravity is trying to rip me apart. I yelp as I cling on, snow coating my hair, getting in my eyes. I sputter, forcing myself not to panic as I grab the root with my other hand and I steady myself.
“Come on,” I groan through gritted teeth.
Heaving myself up, I get myself kneeling in the snow. The cold isn’t reaching me, most likely because I’m in shock. My face is wet, but I can’t tell if it’s from snow or blood.
It doesn’t matter. I need to get myself back to Jordan.
Looking in all directions, each way looks exactly the same, I don’t know where to go. What if Jordan’s injured? How long can she hold off a bear?
What if she’s dead?
The question has me hyperventilating, hopelessness clouding my vision. I can’t lose her, I can’t. I wipe the back of my hand against my wet face, trying to pull myself together when I see red out of the corner of my eye.
I pull my hand back and see blood smeared on my skin.
My blood.
I pat my face, seeing how much I’m bleeding. A few droplets land on my fingers.
How far away can the infected smell blood?
Shooting to my feet, I pull my gun out and raise it to the sky. I fire it once, the sound ricocheting off the trees before I start rifling around in my pack for one of the few grenades I have stashed.
As I grip one of the grenades, silence greets me, the only sound my labored breathing as I try to keep my senses alert.
It feels like I’m waiting for an eternity, time slowing to a near halt.
No sign of the bear or of Jordan. I touch my face again, and the bleeding has lessened.
Quickly, I take the little blood that’s there and wipe it on the closest tree, then another and another until my scent is spread around a bit better.
A hungry growl reaches my ears and I spin to finally see the bear charging at me, darting around trees and leaping over boulders, all to rip me apart.
I plant my feet, the grenade in my hands, my finger through the pin. We stare each other down, its infected eye not straying from me.
As it lets out another ear-splitting roar, I pull the pin and hurl the grenade before ducking behind a boulder.
The blast fills my ears, my hands rising to cover them.
The impact shakes my entire body, feeling like I’ve been blasted to pieces.
My ears ring as I stay crouched in the snow, my body vibrating as I wonder if I completely missed my target.
But when I’m not immediately ripped apart, I shift forward, peeking around my shelter.
Chunks of its body are strewn across the ground, blood soaking the snow. The backend of the bear lies on its side while the head is completely destroyed.
A shocked laugh comes from me as I near what’s left of the bear. My shoulders slump, pain radiating through my body as the shock and adrenaline wear off. I look around the forest, still not seeing Jordan.
I step around the carnage, following its prints in the snow.