Don’t run.
Don’t run.
Another shadow, this one fully black and with a longer gate moved closer. It darted between the evergreens like a ghost, almost as if it was playing hide and seek with me.
“Don’t run,” I hummed, fingernails clutching at the bark of the tree at my back. “Don’t run.”
A third wolf, this one tall and gray, bounded from underneath an evergreen, it’s eyes nailed with mine.
I yelped, swinging wildly with my ski pole and striking it once along the hindquarter. It must have scared it away just enough, because it yipped and spun back into the woods, running in the opposite direction of me.
Heart screaming with the momentary victory, I chose that moment to run across the clearing, making it just to the opposite treeline when the trapper pushed out of his cabin door, old rifle in his arms before he shot into the air three times.
Tears leaked from my eyelids. I tried to steady my breath, even though my lungs wanted to melt down into hyperventilation. I was the farthest thing from civilization out here. Wolves. People. Mountains. Wilderness.Life.
Another long howl followed by a series of yips and snarls sang through the tree limbs then.
“I only have a few hours to get off of this island, I won’t let a few wolves stop me.” I clutched at both of my ski poles, prepared to use them for a weapon if I needed, on either man or beast.
I waited until the trapper disappeared inside of his house before I sped across another smaller clearing. I reached the opposite side that followed along the cliff’s edge, and sucked in a relieved breath when I saw a steep bridge built out of fallen trees and logs and evergreen boughs across what was probably a beaver pond.
That had to be the ice bridge.
It glistened in the sunshine, the ocean water that bubbled and pooled at the base was forced back out into the bay by a whirlpool motion of the water.
I had a few hours left of sunlight to get across that bridge, and what I’d find on the other side I wasn't sure, but surely it couldn't be too far before I ran into a village or town or convenience store or modern life.
I snapped a piece of jerky between my teeth and chewed, thankful that the worst of the trek was behind me.
Next stop,home.
And then after that,Tav.
Thirty-Two
“Help!” I shrieked. The wind caught my plea, flinging it over the edge of the ice bridge and drowning in the waves below. I waved frantically at a tiny fishing boat that trawled in slow circles. “Help me!”
I couldn’t make out whether the boat captain had seen me. I gave up, turning my eyes back to the narrow bridge of crested ice that shot out of the ocean. I gulped, thankful for the flimsy ropes that worked as railings to help me across. Two deep grooves, just barely the width of my feet, were worn into the slick ice. I wore my snowshoes on my back, criss-crossing them to try to keep their weight balanced on my body.
I swallowed past the fear balled in my throat and slid my feet along the ice. I didn’t dare lift my foot for fear of slipping, but sliding across the hundred-yard bridge, slick with warming ice and bright sunlight, was taking longer than I expected.
I heard the boat in the distance gun its motor. I paused, throwing my hand in the air in the hopes he saw me again, then groaning when they trawled in the opposite direction. I fought the tears at my eyelids, wondering if the wolves had ever crossed the bridge, and if they could smell my fear now and chase me down. My fingertips began to shake, with either the cold or the adrenaline, before the toe of my boot caught the edge of the ice wrong and sent me sliding. I cried out, holding on tightly to the rope.
“I need a drink. Oh, please, get me off of this bridge and to the largest alcoholic drink…”
I slid my boot another step along the ice, saying a silent prayer as I continued past my near misstep. My legs found a slow rhythm, my mind focusing out of sheer will. The next time I looked up, I found myself approaching the other cliff.
The mainland.
Tears of happiness hit my cheeks as the first toe of my boot landed on granite again. I took another step, pushing myself away from the ice bridge and the bay below. I wiped the tears from my face, determined to find a person before nightfall. If I could find my way into a town I could find a hotel or...what?
I thought of my phone then, praying for better reception than I’d had on the island. I needed a map, something to point me in the direction of civilization. I had two hours of natural light left, and that’s if I avoided the deep woods. Following the coastline would probably be safer but could also take longer.
I cringed, hating that I hadn’t gotten my bearings on the map in the chalet before leaving. I almost missed the warmth and luxury it provided, even if I hadn’t used either much. I thought of a warm fireplace, a hot drink and a soak in the jetted tub. I laughed at myself then, wondering what I would say when I checked into the first hotel I came across.
I paused to take a drink from one of the water reservoirs. I’d nearly emptied the first one, with any luck I wouldn't need the others. My tiny trek through the wilderness over in a single day, with the help of Bud and the bridge. I imagined coming back to Deception Gorge and thanking him at some point, but then shuddered at the thought of ever seeing this place again.
I took off down the path that followed the cliff, keeping my eyes on the horizon line as I tested each step with my ski pole. I paused after a few steps when the crusted snow gave way to powdery drifts near an open section of trees.
