Chapter Twenty-Two #2
“Leave me alone! I don’t want anything you have!
You’re wasting your time!” The cathartic feeling that was growing in my gut quickly vanishes as I see something out of the corner of my eyes.
The sound of fast footsteps following it.
I turn toward it but it’s running and all I can see is a blur of black.
I try to track it, but my eyes are too slow to keep up.
This feels different from the creature that has been stalking me.
This is dark, the creature I have seen is pale, white like a corpse.
There’s a slow snap of a twig, and when I look up, I see it now in the distance as it sees me in return.
A big, black bear steps toward me, edging out of the shadows of the surrounding trees.
I find no comfort in it being something I recognize.
This very real animal has just as much potential to harm me, if it chooses to do so.
I don’t know very much about bears but what I do know is they all react differently.
I force myself to hold its gaze as I stand up tall, trying to make myself bigger than I am.
It takes a huge step forward, so I scream at it, “Go away! Get outta here!” It’s not working though.
The bear stands up on its hind legs before slamming its front paws down onto the ground, hard.
The forest floor shakes underneath the force.
I don’t have time to panic and I know running would be my last mistake, so I slowly reach behind me, grabbing the part of the gun sticking out of the top of my pack.
I try to pull it out, but the bag is closed so tight that the gun isn’t budging.
I carefully wiggle it back and forth, trying to loosen the zipper as the bear walks toward me.
I yank on the gun, faster and more aggressively until finally it comes free.
As I point the gun in front of me, the bear has started running.
I take a shaky breath, aiming the gun at the animal and silently thank Luke for convincing me to go to that shooting range when we first met.
Otherwise, I don’t know if I would be brave enough to fire a gun.
When I go to click the safety off, I’m startled to discover that I never had it turned on.
I can’t worry about that right now as I place all my hope in this gun.
I squeeze the trigger and the shot knocks me backward a step.
My ears are ringing so loudly I feel like I’m going to fall over.
I look up quickly and the bear is gone but when I don't see any blood, I don’t let myself get comfortable.
In a flash, I turn around and run back through the trees.
I have a feeling this isn’t over and I need to put distance between me and the animal.
Frustration and fear mix, as I realize I’m completely turned around.
I have no idea if I’m running deeper into the woods or back the way I came.
I hear something crashing through the trees behind me.
It sounds like it’s tearing down everything around it, but I keep running, my foot screaming in pain with the continuous impact on the ground.
My breathing becomes so ragged, it feels impossible to keep going.
I look around the best I can, trying to find where to go, where it’s safe.
Then I see it. The hunting perch! I’ve never been more thankful to be backtracking as I sprint for the sanctuary.
I try to throw the gun up into it, but it's high enough that it misses and falls back to the ground. Panicked, I grab it again and throw it harder. This time, it doesn’t fall and that’s good enough for me.
I practically fly up the rungs, hurling my body over the waist-high wall.
I land on my side but don't stop yet. I scan the floor until I find the gun, grabbing it and sitting as far back from the ladder as I can. I hold the gun in front of me once again, a quick memory flashing in my mind, reminding me that I need to reload it. I can’t explain how, but instinct takes over, and I grab the arm, pulling it back hard.
The shell pops out before I shove it back in feeling the new bullet lock into place.
I aim the gun, ready to shoot anything that comes up.
Once my breathing has slowed, I hear soft footsteps walking around below me, followed by huffing.
Something hits one of the supports, causing the structure to shake with the impact.
I look sideways as I hear its nails scratching the wall next to me.
Fear grips my insides, my stomach twisting, making me feel sick.
After everything I’ve been through, this cannot be the way I die— a random bear attack when I’ve already escaped so much.
The floor underneath me is shaking, the wood creaking and groaning.
The bear is going to tear this place apart and me with it.
I close my eyes, taking deep but shaky breaths.
It goes quiet, and everything gets still as the soft, slow footsteps suddenly walk away. I stay where I am, clutching the gun, too scared to stand up and look. I’m not sure how long I stay like this, waiting for death to climb that ladder but eventually I have to know if it’s finally gone.
I flip the safety back on the gun and stand up, scanning the forest below. I don’t see or hear anything, so I collapse back down to the cold floor. The shock of the chase is wearing off, and I’m now able to feel how icy the air is on my face.
My foot hurts so bad; I can feel the throbbing all the way up my leg.
I have an overwhelming urge to pry my shoe off, the feeling of confinement taking over.
I can’t explain why but my foot needs air.
It needs to breathe. As soon as my shoe is off, I let out a sigh of relief.
My makeshift bandage has bled through, and I’m not sure what to do.
I don’t know if I should rewrap it or let it be for a while.
Could opening it up risk infection or will keeping it bleeding into a soiled bandage make it worse?
I don’t know–both options feel bad. I let the questions circle around my mind, hoping the right answer will become obvious.
While I wait, I rummage in my bag for some water and food, only letting myself have a few sips.
I want to conserve the water for as long as possible.
I’m already running low on the camping food Luke brought.
I suppose he didn’t think he needed to bring much knowing I wouldn’t eat most of it.
I never thought I would be upset at a lack of freeze-dried meals, but as I stare at the last two options, I groan.
I’m left with one last bland granola bar and a meatloaf packet.
“Shit,” I say to myself. I don’t like meatloaf on a good day much less like this.
I consider for a moment, if starving would be a better option before shoving the granola bar into my pocket for later.
Meatloaf it is! What’s worse is I still have no way to heat it and I’m sure as hell not wasting any water to rehydrate it.
I eat as fast as I can, shuddering at the last bite and then laugh at myself.
I can fight off monsters, run away from a bear and sleep in the woods alone but this meal… this might be what takes me out.
A sharp pain shoots through my foot and my first thought when I look down at it is to change the bandage.
I follow my intuition and pull it into my lap, untying the fabric.
It peels slowly off the bottom of my foot, the fabric clinging to the dried blood.
I wince as I pull it away, revealing the surprisingly small puncture wound.
I pour the smallest amount of water onto a clean section of the bandage and use it to clean the wound.
The bleeding has slowed almost to a stop, which is a relief.
I dig through the backpack for the same shirt I used earlier, but I can’t find it so I grab the bottom of my new flannel and rip.
“Another one bites the dust, I guess.” I rewrap my foot and as I start to put my sock back on, I first turn it inside out, hoping to keep as much bacteria away from my wound as possible.
Getting the shoe back on now that my foot has been free is miserable.
It’s become swollen after being free so I’m forced to yank the shoe on, gritting my teeth so hard that I worry I’m going to break one.
Eventually it gives and my foot slips inside.
I lay back, breathing heavily, sweat dripping down the sides of my face.
As I look up toward the sky, I see a small squirrel perched on one of the half-walls of my shelter.
I smile up at it, feeling a little delirious, “Maybe I should just cut it off? Thoughts?” The squirrel stares back at me, running its hands over its face before sitting up a little taller and sprinting away.
Right as it’s out of sight, I hear a loud crash coming from the trees beyond, followed by another and then loud footsteps running toward me.
I sit up, panicked, grabbing my gun and aiming it back toward the ladder.
Whatever is down there grabs the perch. I can feel it climbing as my body shakes with every step it takes.
I flip the safety off, placing my finger on the trigger.
My heartbeat in my ears is so loud that I can’t hear anything else.
Right as its head emerges over the wall, I don’t hesitate. I shoot.