Page 66 of Wilderness Daddy

The man-creature is there, still obscured by trees and with his back to me, but he’s huge compared to the other men. The woman’s rope gets dropped as her captor reaches for his gun. Her eyes go wide and she looks around in a glassy stare. They stop on mine for a moment before she takes off. I take my chance then too and run. Looking back, I see the red-haired man that had me is on the ground, eyes closed. Dead or unconscious, I don’t know.

The others are being tossed around and pummeled by the huge man-beast. Shots ring out amid the chaos. I can’t tell if anyone’s been hit. The woman isn’t very fast, clearly not in great shape after being held captive, but she’s escaping. She’s gone in the opposite direction as me and I wonder if I should attempt going back around to meet up with her. She’s in no shape to survive out here on her own. I don’t stop, but change directions, planning to loop around and I don’t look back.

I make it about thirty feet away before I stumble, twisting and landing hard enough to knock the wind out of me and make me see stars. On the ground, I chance another look.

Three men are on the ground and the man-beast has the woman over his shoulder. She’s not limp, but weak, holding onto the fur on his back. I swallow hard, right myself and run again, still unsure what I’ve seen, but determined to get as far away as possible.

* * *

It’s been hours sincethe incident and I’m exhausted, thirsty, terrified, and lost. It must be late afternoon because the sun has lowered and can no longer get through the trees. The temperature has dropped significantly. I still have my bear spray and my GPS but nothing else. No water, no food, no way of sustaining myself.

I shiver, feeling damp right to my bones. I’m considering the possibility I won’t survive this and stop to rest. I lower myself to sit, leaning against a large tree. I wonder where Landon is and how frantic he must be. He must have heard the shots, the hollers. Shutting my eyes, I let his image form in my mind. It brings me a little comfort. He found me once. I pull out my GPS and blink at the small screen. No signal. Of course. Hasn’t had a flicker of one in hours.

Maybe I should be on the move, searching, but ‘energy is currency’ and once again I’m spent.

I sit quietly, breathing, listening, concentrating on relaxing my tight muscles and whirling mind. Every twig snap and rustle has my heart beating in a frenzy though. Have they found me? Is it a bear? Wildcat? Wolf? Or the Sasquatch? The one that saved me, but took the woman. Is he looking for me? What will he do to her? What will he do to me if he finds me? But then I remember he saved us both from the hunters. And he’d gestured for me to run.

“God, please let me stop thinking,” I say aloud with a whine, resting my head on my tucked-up knees and rubbing the chill from my legs. I feel something in my pocket as I rub.

The fire steel.

The excitement I feel at finding a way to make a fire is indescribable. I rise, moving quickly to find wood. And a tree with the same kind of bark Landon used as tinder.

I collect anything I think will burn. Because I have nothing to cut with, I break bigger branches that lie on the ground using my body weight. I know the earth-dampened ones won’t burn so I turn them so their damp sides are up. They won’t burn today but I don’t know how long I’ll be out here. I find bark and peel it off the trees.

It takes a few hours to collect a pile that I think will last through the night. Smaller wood will burn faster and larger wood has to be carried back and it’s slow. I can only carry so much and I have to walk farther to find wood that I can break off. I shuffle a lot, too, dragging my boots to make sure I know how to get back to my camp and I pay attention to every rock, crooked tree, and bush.

The fire takes longer to light than it did when Landon was watching but I think it’s my own self-doubt that makes me fumble awkwardly with the fire steel. On my knees, I scrape the steel rod again and again, faster, watching the sparks. It’s almost dark and besides the sparks and my immediate work area, I can’t see much. When the tinder takes, I suck in a breath and hold it. But the fire goes out within seconds.

I swear, picking up a rock and tossing it. It echoes when it hits a tree, reminding me how alone I am out here. I shiver and not just because I’m cold. Rubbing my hands together to warm them, I take a deep cleansing breath.

You got this, Takahashi. There’s no quitting out here.

I pick up the fire steel and start again. My fingers are so cold I can barely feel them. I feel as if I’m working with chopsticks instead of fingers. But I don’t give up and finally it lights. I actually whoop aloud when it stays lit. The warmth hits me and I move as close as possible to absorb it. The crackles, hisses, and pops of wood are like music to my ears, the smell heady and comforting until a wetter log makes my fire smoke and it chokes me and burns my eyes.

My back feels cold as I warm my front so I turn like a rotisserie chicken, spinning slowly on my butt and watching darkness swallow the mountain completely. That’s when I allow myself a moment to weep. I weep from exhaustion and fear, but also because I did it. I escaped, I made a fire, and I will survive.

I have to keep adding wood. None of my logs are thicker than my forearm and they burn quickly. I was too eager at the start, and had the fire blazing higher than necessary, wasting wood. As I watch the pile getting lower, I know that I’ll run out before morning.

It’s too dark to search for more—too dangerous to be moving about blindly—so I hunker down, close to the fire, still absorbing as much heat as I can and close my eyes. I’ll rest them for a little while, I think. Just a short while, but I’ll listen. If I hear anything at all, I’ll get up. I’ll fight. I’ll make it through this. I’ll make it back to Landon.

The howl of a wolf, deep, lonely and haunting, but far away makes me hug myself tightly.

Just a few minutes, I tell myself and close my lids.

* * *

My eyes pop open atthe sound of a screech. I squint, shielding my eyes from the sun that streams through the branches. A bird sits on a branch above me, looking down at me. I blink and sit up. I must have fallen asleep and slept straight through the night. My body aches and I feel damp and almost numb with cold but I damn well survived the night. I press my lips, giving the bird a tight smile.

“I survived the night.”

My fire is out, although smoke still smolders rising in gray tendrils above the light gray ash. I shiver, chilled to the bone from the night spent on the ground. I’ll need to collect more wood and find water today. Food can wait, but water and heat are essential. I have nothing to carry water in and I can’t boil it without a pot so I’ll have to risk getting sick by drinking it straight from the source.

I’m rubbing the goosebumps from my arms but stiffen when I hear a faint noise in the distance. A voice? I decide it’s my imagination after a few seconds of straining to listen and continue rubbing the chill from my body. But then I hear it again, a little louder.

“Kari!”

I call out, “Hello? Landon? I’m here!” Sticking my cold, filthy fingers in my mouth, I whistle, my heart racing.

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