If there’s even a chance...
For a moment, Keith and I stare at each other in the growing darkness. Then something shifts in his expression. Not pity anymore, but something closer to respect.
“You’re actually serious about this.”
“Dead serious.” I lower my crutch but keep my stance firm. “I didn’t travel halfway around the world to turn back because someone else is scared.”
Keith shakes his head, but there’s an odd smile playing at his lips. “You know what? You’re completely insane.” He pauses. “But maybe that’s exactly what this mountain is looking for.”
My heart does a little flip at his words. Not because of Keith—but because for the first time in my life, someone is seeing my determination instead of my limitations.
“So you’ll take me further?”
“Hell no.” He laughs, but it’s not mean. “But I’ll make sure you have everything you need before I go. And I’ll wait at base camp until tomorrow night. If you’re not back by then...”
“I understand.”
We both know what happens to people who don’t come back from this mountain. The missing hikers. The adventure seekers who vanished without a trace. But I also know what happens to people like me who don’t take the leap—we fade away slowly, accepting less and less until there’s nothing left of who we really are.
As Keith helps me check my supplies one last time, he glances up at the mountain peak shrouded in darkness.
“Whatever’s up there,” he whispers, “I hope it’s worth it.”
I follow his gaze to where the path disappears into shadows that seem to pulse with their own life. Somewhere up there,past the point where ordinary people turn back, waits either my miracle or my death.
Maybe both.
Time is running out. My neurological condition means I have maybe another year on my feet before the wheelchair, and then only until forty if I’m lucky. This is my last chance to be more than a cautionary tale about accepting your limitations.
“It will be,” I whisper with defiant determination.
And then I continue upwards, all alone, as the path narrows and the darkness deepens.
TWO
BEAST
When you fleefrom the world, there are few places that will allow solitude. At least, if you’re a monster like me. But my Father Creator made me and then left me this way. Misshapen. Half-baked. Trying to fuse multiple creatures together that nature never intended to meet in one body. I am an experiment gone terribly, terribly wrong. And there is no kindness in this world for one like me.
I’ve sought out many haunts for my life of solitude. Soon I must go back home. I have responsibilities back in that place I detest. And besides, everywhere else, they will not leave me alone. I am an object of interest. Something out of scary stories made real for hunters to hunt. For adventurers to capture. A curiosity like they see in their zoos.
But I will never be caged or chained ever again.
And those who are not wise enough to retreat when they sense danger will meet the consequences.
I let out a warning roar that rumbles deep in my chest—a sound meant to protect, not destroy. But the light below bouncing up the path does not turn back.
I watch from the entrance of my high mountain cave, every instinct screaming to shield this foolish climber from what I am. All other predators have vacated the area. They, at least, sense the danger I represent and keep their distance.
It’s only these humans who have lost all sense of self-preservation. They ignore the warning in their bones. They think they know everything and that they are the apex of creation.
How wrong they are.
I’ve learned to laugh at their arrogance before... well. Before I remind them who truly rules these mountains.
Someday soon, they may come with their weapons en masse, at which point I will have to abandon yet another sanctuary. These humans will not suffer me among them, but I know enough about them that when too many gather, they become dangerous. Like when a nest of hornets is disturbed.
I will leave before that becomes necessary.
