Taking deep, slow breaths to try soothe my racing heart, I spin in a slow circle.
My eyes search every inch of the thick wooded forest around me. I can hear water flowing somewhere in the distance. If I can find the stream, I can follow it. But that's a last resort. I'd rather listen for signs of life. Human life.
There is nothing but nature.
The scents, the sounds, the richness of it. It suddenly becomes overwhelmingly real.
To my left is a crop of boulders. Everywhere else, there are trees, trees, and more trees.
As I spin, I realize I don't even know what direction I came through. If I started walking now, I wouldn't know if I was heading back to the cabin or away from it.
"Fuck!" I cry out, suddenly spiked with panic.
In a move of sheer desperation, I start climbing a tree. I climb as high as I can, trying to get a vantage point so that I can see where to go.
But getting to the top of the highest branch only makes me dizzy with more panic.
There isn't anything.
No road. No other cabins. No people. No little restaurants or stores, or hotels, or holiday sites. Nothing but nature. Massive stretches of wilderness.
I can't even see the cabin I escaped from.
I climb down, suddenly terrified.
"Calm down, Kit. It's ok. You're still free. You can just start walking, and it has to take you somewhere. And being out here is still better than being trapped in there with a kidnapper. Isn't it?" I wish it felt that way. But out here I feel small and very exposed.
To my left, I hear something—something big, digging against wet earth. My instincts scream at me not to move, but I have to see what it is.
Turning slowly, I find myself staring right at a bear.
It's maybe fifty feet from me. Closer than I ever want to be to a wild bear.
I can barely breathe as it lifts its head and stares directly at me. My eyes drift down to its massive paws. The thick, sharp claws spiked from its feet.
"Oh shit," I squeal in a soft whisper, choked in the back of my throat.
I don't really want to die being malled by a bear. I don't really think it sounds adventurous.
Suddenly, a hand clamps over my mouth, and strong arms pull me backward against a thick, muscular chest.
I yelp in fright, and even though it's muffled beneath his hand, it causes the bear to look at us with more curiosity than before. It takes a step toward us.
Bardil lifts me and, with his hands beneath my ass, he pushes me right up a tree. "Climb," he demands. "Now!"
I climb like my life depends on it because I honestly think it might at this point. He's right behind me, climbing until we're pressed together, wrapped around the thick trunk, our feet perched on random branches as we both stare down at the curious bear scratching at the soil beneath us.
"It's a young bear," he whispers, his breath hot against my ear.
"It's massive," I argue.
"They aren't very aggressive. Technically, it should get bored and leave."
"What if it doesn't?" I ask, terrified.
"I have the axe tucked into my belt."
His arms are wrapped protectively around me, pushing me harder against the tree. At first, all I can think about is the bear. But now it no longer seems interested in us, and rather more focused on a rotting fallen tree, scratching its long claws into the soft wood and pulling out grub to nibble on.
