Stranded

Chapter Twenty-one

The rest of the day went by without any further events. When it came close to sunset, Whit stood, stretched, and glanced at Abby’s leg, which she’d kept propped up on the table.

“I need to go get you more rocks.”

“Whit, I’m fine. There’s no need to leave.”

Whit held up the water bottle which was only a quarter of the way full. “We also need more water.”

“Fine, but I’m coming with you.”

“You can’t. Walking that far will ruin the little progress you’ve made with your knee.”

“Whit, I stink. I desperately need to wash.”

“I stink, too. But it’s just something we’re going to have to deal with for the time being.”

“You don’t stink,” Abby said. “I think you’ve been bathing down at that creek.” She grinned. “You have, haven’t you?”

“I’ve rinsed off.”

“I knew it!”

“How about this? I take the pot and bring back some extra water for you to heat on the stove? That way you can at least wash your face and hands.”

“And my pits.”

“Sure.”

“Deal.”

“Alrighty.” She emptied the remaining berries on the table and shrugged into her coat. “I’ll be back soon.”

“I know I don’t have to keep telling you to be careful, but I will anyway. Please, be careful.”

“Ditto.”

Abby rose to lock the door behind her, still terribly unnerved at the haphazard-like carving on the door.

So much so, that she couldn’t bear to even look at it.

She bolted the door and then sat on the bed to wait for the banging to commence.

She sat for what felt like close to an hour, with nothing but the sounds of the wind trying to creep in through the thread-like slits in the walls.

Eventually, she fell asleep, and when she woke, Whit was at the door, softly rapping and calling her name.

“Coming.” She shuffled to the door and unlocked it. Whit rushed in from the oncoming twilight, carrying the shirt full of rocks and the pot with the lid tightly secured.

“It’s freezing out there,” Whit breathed.

Abby could feel the cold pressing in and it caressed her skin as Whit drifted by with cheeks colored a deep crimson. She set the pot on the table and then brought the bundle of rocks over to Abby. “Lie down,” she said.

“But I want to wash up.”

“You can, but it’s going to take a while for the water to heat. So you might as well ice your knee while you wait.”

Abby reclined on the bed and Whit positioned the bundle on her leg. She hesitated a moment when finished, then gave a brief smile, and headed back to the table where she unbound the vine from the pot and placed the pot on the stove.

Then she sat to nibble on some fish.

“You look chilled to the bone,” Abby said.

“I am.” She sniffled and rubbed her face with her coat still on, trying to warm herself. “But it feels good in here.” She paused and looked to Abby. “Did you have any visitors while I was gone?”

“Surprisingly, no. It was as quiet as a church mouse.”

“Really?”

“Go figure.”

Whit popped some food in her mouth and chewed. “I hope it stays that way.”

“Me, too.”

Whit carried a handful of berries over to her.

“Thanks. And I appreciate you bringing me the water. It’s going to feel so good to bathe a little.”

“It sure beats bathing in the icy water of the creek.”

Abby laughed. “Is that why you’re so cold? Did you take a quick dip?”

“A very quick dip. I didn’t want that freak who’s bothering us to get any ideas.”

“God, I don’t know how you did that. The frigidness of that water alone would’ve kept me rinsing off from the shore.”

“I didn’t fully submerge. Just enough to get the job done with a few brisk splashes.”

“And you didn’t see or hear anyone while you were out?”

“Nope, not a peep.”

“Maybe he got scared off.”

“More like he got bored and wandered off after our lack of reaction to his message on the door.”

“We didn’t really react, did we?”

She shook her head.

“And we certainly didn’t tuck tail and run.” Abby smiled. “Sounds like maybe we won.”

“Possibly. But I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you. He could still be lingering, working out his next move.”

“You would think he would move on since we might get snow soon. He’d said he wanted to find somewhere to shelter in town for the winter.”

Whit shrugged. “Apparently, he’s having more fun harassing us.”

“What a weirdo.” She shivered as the damp from the wet rocks penetrated her skin. “That water hot yet?”

Whit checked it. “Almost.”

“Good, because I’m cold.” She removed the bundle and swung her legs over the side of the bed to stand. Then she stumbled over to the table to sit and warm herself by the stove.

Whit was looking at her with concern.

“You don’t have to say it, Whit. As soon as I wash up, I’ll ice my knee again.”

“I wasn’t going to say a word.”

She laughed. “Yeah, right.”

Whit settled down next to her and then went ramrod straight as a crashing noise came from outside.

Abby too, froze. “What the hell was that?”

“Something is moving through the brush.”

“Sounds like King Kong.”

“Whatever it is, it’s close. I bet it’s him, trying to scare us.”

“Could be more deer.”

“Not a chance.”

Whit rushed to the door, and before Abby could stop her, she’d unlocked it and thrown it open to step out onto the porch and yell. “You might as well give it up! We’re not afraid of you!”

Abby hurried outside to join her, curious to see if Boyd was within sight.

She focused on the tree line to the right, along with Whit, where the noise was coming from.

The thick brush shimmied and shook. Then, as if on a mission, a giant brown bear, not a man, emerged.

Abby gasped, and upon seeing them, the bear rose onto its haunches and let out a ferocious roar.

“Whit,” Abby whispered. “That’s a bear.”

“Not just a bear. A male grizzly.” Whit raised her arms, spreading the back of her jacket out like a kite. She shouted. “Go away bear! Go away!” She flapped her arms.

“We should run,” Abby said, tugging on her jacket. “Whit.”

“No, don’t run.”

The bear woofed and gnashed its teeth. Then it lowered to all fours and began to charge.

“Whit!”

“Inside, now.”

Abby about-faced, stepping past the threshold, but then tripped and thumped to the floor. Whit hastened to her and dragged her farther in, then slammed the door and slid the wooden beam into the brackets. She helped Abby to her feet and they both stood very still, listening keenly, breathing hard.

The noises of the bear grew closer, until they heard his heavy footfalls on the whining boards of the porch. Abby tried to swallow, but a ball of sheer fear lodged in her throat, causing her to choke.

“Shh,” Whit said, easing her onto the bed. But Abby wasn’t sure what remaining quiet would do. The bear was already aware they were inside.

Abby did her best to stifle her coughs nonetheless, as her heart thrummed like the blinding wings of a hummingbird.

She heard the beast huff and knew he was dangerously close.

A loud boom resonated, and the door warped inward, the bear wailing as it rocked against the weathered wood.

Abby clung to Whit and they kicked their way back against the wall, huddled on the bed.

“He’s going to get in,” Abby said.

“No, that beam should hold.” Whit didn’t sound convinced and neither was Abby.

“The cabin’s too old, Whit. He’s going to break through. What will we do?”

The bear continued to pummel the door, and a sickening splintering filled the room as the braces holding the beam began to pull away from the wall.

“Shit,” Whit said, untangling herself from Abby. She went to the window and tried to jostle it.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking for an escape. We need to get out.”

More splintering came from the doorway and one of the brackets gave and clanged to the floor.

The left side of the door caved in, and the roar of the bear reverberated.

Abby could see the glistening bronze of his fur, smell the foulness of his breath, and hear the scratch of his powerful claws as he tried to fight his way in.

As the door and walls shook from the bear’s massive weight, Whit’s fishing spear timbered and ricocheted off the floor.

“Whit, the spear!”

Whit scrambled to it, snatched it up, and charged the door just as the Grizzly broke completely through.

She cried out almost as loud as the bear’s roar as she plunged the sharpened prongs deep into the bear’s chest, causing a deafening silence.

The animal leveled to all fours and moaned as it reversed.

Thick shoelaces of drool hung from its mouth as it let out another noise, this time, a painful sounding cry.

Then it stumbled off the porch and walked slowly away.

Whit followed it outside. Abby remained on the bed, still too terrified to move.

“Where is it?” she breathed.

Whit continued to watch, quiet, with her back to Abby.

Abby scooted to the edge of the mattress. “Whit?”

She came back inside, face completely ashen. “It’s gone.”

Abby nearly sobbed with relief.

Whit doubled back to the doorway and stuck her head outside, checking again. Then she knelt and studied the metal braces that held the wooden beam securely across the door.

“Can you fix it?” Abby asked.

“Not without tools.”

The cold evening air began to penetrate, and Abby hugged herself, shivering from more than just the cold as their new reality began to set in.

“We have to leave, don’t we?”

“We’re no longer safe here without an adequate door.”

“Will the bear come back?”

“No. It went off to die.” She tossed the bracket aside. “I can’t understand why it was so aggressive.” She glanced at the doorway. “I need to go investigate.”

“I’m coming with.”

This time Whit didn’t argue. Instead, she unsheathed her knife and waited for Abby before they both exited.

A few of the porch beams were distorted, so they carefully sidled around them and stepped onto the ground.

They followed the steady trail of blood until just before the edge of the woods where Whit suddenly stopped.

She bent and lifted up a piece of fur-covered flesh.

“What is it?” Abby asked, afraid to know.

Whit carried it along as she stood and continued on. As they stepped into the brush, Abby smelled, what could only be, rotting flesh. She gagged as they neared a partially skeletal carcass.

“Is that a…deer?” Abby asked.

“Was. And this is just a piece of it,” Whit said as she kept Abby back with her arm.

She looked around intently, as if checking for other animals.

When she seemed satisfied, she examined the carcass closely.

“That bear didn’t tear it apart though. It’s been quartered.

And cleanly. I’d say someone else did the killing. ”

She followed more blood and pieces of flesh, and pointed to a wider track. “And they dragged the carcass here, close to the cabin.”

“To what, attract the bear?”

“Precisely.”

Abby’s heart fell to her stomach. “He wanted it to come after us?”

“To have some sort of an encounter, yes.”

Whit walked on, knelt, and lifted up more remnants of the deer. “See here? He left a trail of deer meat leading right to the cabin.”

“But aren’t bears supposed to be hibernating about now?”

“Not until October/November.”

Abby folded her arms across her chest, once again chilled.

Whit, meanwhile, took the small sections of meat and threw them as far as she could before facing Abby once again. “I need to wash my hands.”

They headed back to the cabin and Whit cleaned her hands in the hot water she’d heated for Abby.

Then she packed up the fish and berries into the pot and secured it.

Abby watched with her hands clasped in front of her at the table, at a loss as to what to say or do.

They were exposed to danger now. Both from the wildlife and from Boyd.

Whit seemed to be pondering the same thing. “We’ll stay in the cabin tonight. I’ll position the door as best I can, but it won’t be protection enough from anything with the slightest inkling to come inside. It should help keep us warm enough until sunup, though. Then we need to head out.”

Abby didn’t respond, but Whit didn’t seem to need her to.

“I’ll stand guard,” she added.

“Whit, you need to sleep too. We both need our strength.”

“I’m too concerned about Boyd. He has to know we’re vulnerable now.”

Abby released a breath. “Okay. I’ll go along with whatever you think is best.”

“Why don’t you go ahead and turn in, in case we need to leave sooner than dawn.”

Another chill shot up Abby’s spine as she considered what reason that might be. She went to bed in silence and curled up on her side, forgoing the cold rock bundle. Tonight, nothing could help soothe her knee, or her mind for that matter. Tonight, all she could do was pray for sleep.