26. Escape
There on the bank of Coffin Bone Creek, I abandoned my brother.
No one, including myself, suggested following the bizarre tracks into the woods. What would the point be, other than to endanger our own lives?
If whatever haunted us had taken Doug, he was as dead as Anna. The best I could expect would be to hear his voice mimicked on the air, calling me outside to my doom.
Had Bessie lured him out in the night? No matter how he escaped his bonds, it was the only explanation as to why he’d walk into some creature’s arms without so much as a cry.
And now he was gone, and I was truly alone.
“As soon as we reach Dawson, I’ll transfer the claims to you,” I said as we readied our packs. The gold we’d washed from the gravel to check the paystreak went into a pouch and a coffee can, one held by Eleanor and the other by Steve. “We’ll tell them the truth—that Doug is dead and I’m done with gold.”
“Or we’ll turn you over to the Mounties and let you face justice,” Roland said coldly.
They hadn’t seen the rough justice of the miners. If word spread before I was in the Mounties’ hands…
Maybe it was what I deserved. Whatever happened, I was determined to at least make one thing right.
Steve had crafted two more pairs of snowshoes over the course of the storm, so we set out in an awkward line. As we left, I looked back over my shoulder at the place that had changed my life for the worse. The faintest glow from the sun touched the southern sky, and stars shone down hard and crystalline as ice over the little cabin.
Last autumn, I’d been so certain that this place would be the answer to all our problems. Doug would finally be satisfied. We could give up scheming; I could settle down; he could travel as he wished. We’d be free of the cycle that had dominated our lives ever since leaving home so long ago.
Now Doug was dead, and I might find myself dangling at the end of a noose.
Steve and I took turns breaking trail. It was hard going, even on the frozen creek, and our pace slowed to a crawl. I’d never felt so cold; even with all my exertion, no heat seemed to warm my limbs. Occasionally a crack like a gunshot would sound from the forest as a tree shattered from the pressure of its own frozen sap. The sun’s dim glow faded from view after a few scant hours, only to be replaced by a blazing aurora. Snakes of green, red, and purple writhed across the sky, their sickly hues causing odd reflections from the snow.
Our pace was agonizingly slow. Roland’s crutch sank through the snow, and he grimaced every time he took a step. He had to be in agony.
We paused to light a fire, in order to have some food and coffee. My stomach gnawed at my spine, and I stamped my feet to keep them from freezing while Steve coaxed flames from the dry tinder we carried. We boiled water for coffee, then drank it quickly before it could freeze.
When we started off again, Steve and I got slightly ahead of the other two. “I’m sorry about your brother,” he said unexpectedly.
Even after all I’d done, he wanted to comfort me. If only I could have talked Doug into being honest sooner, if only everything was right between us…
“Thank you,” I said. “So am I.” I paused a long moment, uncertain if I should continue. It might not do any good, but at least I could try to clear the air. “And I’m sorry about the lies. I swear to you, I meant to spend the winter convincing Doug to abandon the plan. I thought he’d soften, once we all spent so much time together, working side-by-side. Or when he saw the gold and realized there was plenty for everyone.”
“Would there ever have been enough for him, though?”
Doug, his eyes always on the next horizon. Hungering for the next town, the next scheme.
“I thought so,” I said, even though it hurt. “Maybe I was fooling myself. Or he was fooling me, a mark like any other.”
“And Tommy Tatum?”
“Never.” Of that at least I could be sure. “Doug abhorred violence. Our father gave us both our fill for a lifetime. Neither of us wanted to become him; we agreed to live by our wits, not our fists. I think in our minds it was a twisted way of getting back at him—of showing him we were better, that we’d succeed no matter what he said. Not that he’d ever know it.”
“He sounds like a nightmare.”
“As for what Doug did…I didn’t suspect it at first. When I found out the truth, I should have told everyone. Obviously I should have. But he’s my brother, and in Dawson we saw a miner being put out into the wilderness with no gear for theft, and I didn’t…I didn’t want him to die.” Tears gathered, but I forced them back.
Steve was silent for several minutes as we trudged along. Then he said, “I’m glad you kept him from killing me.”
“What else could I have done? Lain there while you died?”
“Yes,” Steve said, with such frankness I was taken aback. “I’m sure it would have looked as though I’d frozen to death during the night, or had an aneurysm or some such. It would have raised questions, sure, but apoplexy, sweat-damp clothing…there are so many ways to die out here. Who would jump to ‘smothered with a pillow’ as the cause?”
I stopped and turned to him, horrified. “No! I’d never stand by while someone was being murdered!”
“Even at your own brother’s hand,” he confirmed. The shifting aurora above lent strange green tints to his face, turned his blue eyes to aquamarine. “That’s why I trust you now. Because some would keep quiet, to protect their kin.”
The thought was horrifying…but he was right. How many times did the newspapers report the story of some murderer found hiding with his mother, or cousin, or some other family member determined to protect him no matter his crimes?
Hadn’t Doug done the same with me, when Bessie died?
Despite everything, Steve’s words gave me the first hope I’d had in a long time. “I’ll do whatever I can to earn back the rest of your trust,” I said in a rush. “I don’t want the gold, not after this. As for?—”
“Shh!”
Steve stopped in his tracks, scanning the area around us. It was slow going, with Roland’s bad leg and only the light of the aurora and our own lanterns, and we’d made it only a quarter of the way to the creek’s mouth. The surface of the creek, which we were using as a trail, was relatively smooth in the middle, but a jumble of ice slabs welded into a sold mass along the banks. Beyond rose the hills, flanks covered in tall, skinny spruce trees, dark against the starry sky.
Above all, the aurora writhed, tinging the world below with green and red, turning what should be a familiar landscape into something utterly alien.
“What is it?” I whispered.
Steve shook his head slightly. “Everyone stop,” he said to the other two. “I thought I heard something.”
Roland took out his knife. Eleanor took a step away from him, then stopped as Steve had asked.
We all held our breath, straining our ears in the vast silence. No wind stirred the trees; no animals dared the cold. There was nothing but ice and night.
A series of taps sounded from the forest.
* * *
Terror washed over me, freezing every muscle and constricting my chest.
Tap. Tap-tap-tap.
“It followed us,” Eleanor whispered.
It—whatever it was, ghost or demon or something beyond comprehension—wasn’t satisfied with taking Doug’s life, taking Anna’s. It wanted more.
It wanted us.
“Roland,” it called in Anna’s voice. “Come to me.”
“You aren’t my wife!” he shouted back. “Show yourself, damn you!”
“Eleanor!” A stern man’s voice now, and she shrank back as if at a blow. “Get in here! I need my medicine, you wretched girl!”
She put her hands over her mouth, either aghast or holding back a cry. “He’s dead,” she mumbled, words muffled against her gloves. “He’s dead and it’s my fault, it’s my fault…”
Her fear shook me from my paralysis. “It’s a trick.” I put my hand to her shoulder. “None of this is real.”
Easy to say, harder to remember when Bessie’s scream split the night.
I squeezed my eyes closed, then opened them hastily before the damp in my lashes could freeze them shut. “We’re exposed out here,” I said. “We need to get somewhere it can’t reach us.”
“Where?” Eleanor demanded. “There’s nothing but the cabin, and we can’t go back!”
“We might have to!”
A loud crash sounded from within the forest. Then something was on the move, trees shaking as it forced its way through, the shriek of a crying baby coming from it like a train whistle.
Steve grabbed my hand. “Run!”
I did, hauling Eleanor with me. Steve let go of my hand to help his father, but Roland shook him off. “Go! Don’t wait for me.”
As the entity grew closer and closer, a cacophony of voices arose: Bessie, Eleanor’s father, the baby, and others I couldn’t identify. Perhaps those were from Bill and Clarke’s nightmares. Above all, Anna’s raged: “I wish you’d died in the avalanche! I hate it I hate it I hate you?—”
“Enough,” Roland roared. He stopped and turned to face it, knife held threateningly before him.
We stumbled to a halt as well. “Pa, no!” Steve shouted. “Come on, we can?—”
Somethingemerged from the trees.
It was hard to make out in the darkness; the light from our little lantern didn’t reach it, and only the twisting ropes of the aurora revealed it in queasy flashes. Something huge and skeletal, with too many limbs, rags of hide and flesh hanging from it. The stench of the mine washed over me: defrosted muck, ash, and ancient rot.
“Back to hell with you, devil!” Roland shouted.
It reared up above him, and I could just make out a great crown of caribou antlers. One of its many limbs stretched out, the bony paw tipped with lion’s claws.
A hank of dark hair hung from its neck. Though tangled and stiff with blood, I knew it belonged to Anna.
Steve let out a hoarse cry and tried to return to his father’s side. But he took only a few steps before it struck.
The creature—beast, horror—seized Roland. He screamed, and hot blood hit the snow.
Then it retreated with its prize, moving so fast it was but a blur, dragging the shrieking man into the forest with it.
* * *
Steve charged after the monstrous thing as it dragged his father away. It was disappearing quickly into the trees, giving only the glimpse of a hoof or an antler, a bit of woolly hide stiff with the muck of the permafrost. Roland screamed again, a raw sound of sheer pain as he was hauled across the snow, leaving a smear of blood behind.
Then his knife flashed in the aurora’s light as he plunged it into the creature. Though it had no blood and little flesh, it must have still been able to feel pain. It reared back and let out a sound like nothing I’d ever heard. It wasn’t human, or animal, or even mechanical. Rather it was as if the earth itself cried out in rage: a voice of wind-whipped trees, rushing water, and grinding boulders.
Steve caught up with it and slashed his own knife across one of its many limbs. It lashed out in response, a skeletal leg slamming into him with bone-breaking force.
Steve went flying in one direction, his knife in another. He collapsed into the snow, stunned or dead I didn’t know.
Either way, instinct propelled me in his direction. I needed to get him up, away from this thing.
“My boy!” Roland cried weakly. His knife flashed again as he began to stab at the thing, over and over.
Its attention whipped back to him, and he shrieked as it took its revenge. I reached Steve’s side, overwhelmingly relieved to see him stir. He moaned when I slipped an arm under him; his snowshoes tangled together, and I despaired of getting him up before the monster finished with Roland and came for us.
I hadn’t noticed Eleanor follow me, but suddenly she was there, helping maneuver Steve to his feet. He gasped in pain. “My ribs…”
“It’s okay,” I said, even though it very much wasn’t. “Come on—we have to move.”
“No, I—Pa!” He twisted around with a cry of pain, trying to glimpse Roland. “Pa!”
“There’s nothing we can do for him,” Eleanor said. “Don’t attract its attention, for God’s sake!”
Steve stared back with an agonized expression. He wanted to run back into danger, go to his screaming father. But it would only lead to him dying alongside Roland.
Like me with Bessie.
I shoved the thought away—we needed to move, now. Put as much distance between ourselves and the monster as we could.
We staggered away, as quickly as we could, Roland’s cries echoing weaker and weaker behind us. Silent tears poured down Steve’s face, kept from freezing only by the warmth of his skin.
“There,” Eleanor said, pointing. “We can hide there.”
An old rockfall formed a jumbled mass alongside the creek. We clambered up to it, whimpers of pain escaping Steve despite his best efforts.
We tucked ourselves deep between two boulders, squeezing as far back between them as possible. Then we waited.
Silence reigned. Roland’s screams had ended, and there were no insects, no birds, no living things of any sort to bring the night to life. Not even the wind blew.
Once we were still, the cold began to set in fast. I flexed my toes continuously, trying to keep the blood moving, even as numbness started to creep into them. Our breath froze the second it left our lips, turning to crystals rather than steam.
If we waited here too long, we’d die. But if we ran…
Snow crunched beneath the step of something big.
I closed my eyes and huddled down as far as I could, praying not to be seen. My heart raced like a horse gone wild with fright, and it seemed to me the thing that hunted us must be able to hear its frantic pounding.
Another crunch, followed by silence.
Then, impossibly out of place in that frozen wasteland, the sound of a baby crying.
Beside me, I felt Steve lift his hands, hiding his face or covering his ears. My lashes had frozen together; I couldn’t open my eyes to see without breaking them apart, and every instinct screamed at me to remain utterly still.
The cries went on and on, the heartrending sound of an infant at the extremity. Shrieking with all its might, desperate for some adult to save it.
Even knowing it was just a lure to draw us out from hiding, it was horrible to endure. But after a few minutes, it changed.
“Eleanor!” barked a man’s voice, harsh and unforgiving. “Bring me my medicine this instant, you lazy girl!”
Eleanor pressed more tightly against my other side.
“I need my medicine, you ungrateful wretch. What sort of girl delights in her father’s pain?”
“Colin, help!” Bessie cried.
None of us stirred, even as the cold sunk deeper into our bodies. At last, the sounds became fainter, as if the creature making them moved away. The voices grew more and more distant, and then faded into nothing, leaving us alone in the freezing night.