Dylan
It’s such a fucking female thing to do.
Now Emma’s decided, against what should be anyone’s better judgment, to run off into a raging blizzard instead of staying in the safety of the cabin.
Emma acted without thinking, and now I’ve got to go and save her. Typical.
If she’d stopped to think about her actions for even a goddamn microsecond, this could’ve all been avoided.
The wind is as fierce as I’ve ever felt it up here, which is not fucking good.. Most of my face is covered, but where it’s exposed, I can feel the icy cold biting into my skin.
With my head down and my arm up as a shield against the forces of Mother Nature, even walking is a slow, perilous challenge. Each step I take brings me waist deep into the snow.
I stop for a second and consider going back to the cabin to grab my snowshoes. I’d be much faster on snowshoes, but I’d lose valuable time and whatever progress I’ve made already.
Fuck.
This girl is so much more fucking trouble than I’d thought she’d be. For the umpteenth time, I regret rescuing her and bringing her to my domain. I should’ve dropped her off along the way at maybe some luxury hotel or a shopping mall.
Really, I did what I had to. There weren’t any serious fucking options but to bring her here, and now there are definitely no other options but to find her—wherever she is.
The faint footprints I’ve been trying to follow have been wiped completely out by more snow. This is going to be fucking impossible.
She could be anywhere. There are thousands of acres of wilderness out here.
“Emma!”
The wind carries my voice away, and I know it’s pointless. Wherever she is by now, she won’t hear me...
Instead of continuing the way I’ve been going, I turn slightly and head south. Even in this storm, I know the area pretty well.
There’s no real logic to my changing direction. I mean, she could’ve gone in any fucking way, but I need to stay focused. I have to follow my instincts.
I had been going uphill, but I figure she couldn’t have kept going up there in this storm. This shit’s bad enough as it is without trying to trek up the slope.
Hopefully, she would’ve started heading down a flatter terrain. Problem is, level ground here eventually starts sloping downward. Sometimes sharply.
Up ahead, I see what might be a footprint. By the time I get there, the wind and snow have destroyed almost all evidence of what it once was.
Still, I study it for a few minutes.
It’s definitely a footprint. And it’s from a boot.
One of my boots.
The same boots Emma was wearing when she left.
Inwardly, I breathe a sigh of relief. If she’s been here, and she’s headed south, there’s still hope she’s safe.
If she’d gone in another direction, she may have fallen off a ledge by now.
An image of her exquisite body, sprawled out over some icy rocks, blood oozing out of her skull, her expression vacant, and all the color drained from her face suddenly assault my mind.
I blink rapidly a few times to rid myself of the gruesome image.
With renewed vigor, I follow what might be a trail of her footprints.
If only the storm eased off a tiny bit, the search would be a lot easier, although she’s unlikely to run into any unwelcome company in this kind of weather.
Neither poachers nor bears venture out into blizzards like this.
I grimace.
Okay, so I’ve gone and found some promising evidence of where Emma could be, but I’m a long fucking way from being out of the woods.
I still need to fucking find her. I continue slogging down the trail of possible footprints.
With each passing second, I start to worry more and more. If I don’t fucking find her soon, I won’t have any chance of finding her alive.
By now, my own gear is saturated. Snow is dripping down my back, and even my feet are wet. None of my waterproof gear is designed to withstand the forces of nature to this extent—at least not for this long.
I shiver a little and stop. I’m losing the trail of footprints. Now, it’s just pure fucking snow in front of me.
I scan the ground around my feet, and something to my right grabs my attention. The snow looks a little depressed there.
Am I seeing things out here? Is there such a thing as a fucking footprint mirage in the snow?
Whatever it is, it looks like there’s another depression a few more inches away.
Bang!
Before I can even take a step in that direction, a gunshot rattles the trees. It came from somewhere behind me.
What the fuck?
I spin around as a high-pitched scream pierces the air. If someone’s hurt Emma...I swear I won’t rest till they’re dead.
Have those evil bastards tracked her all the way out here?
My foot catches on something, and I tumble. Fuck, I’m on a slope, which I should’ve fucking known was here.
I feel myself falling, and I know there isn’t shit I can do about it. I roll, bracing for impact, and eventually come to a quiet stop.
Fuck.
Now I’ve lost the trail altogether. My heart is beating wildly in my chest as I get to my feet.
I’m about to turn around and start my way back uphill when I hear something.
It’s a sound that grabs my attention immediately, yet it’s soft and quiet.
“Emma,” I call, and listen. “Emma is that you?”
Obvious sobbing meets my ears.
“I’ve fallen and...” she calls out, and stops.
I try and follow the sound of her voice.
“Keep talking, Emma,” I urge her. “I’m nearly there.”
Just then, I nearly trip over a huddled figure. Relieved, I bend down and wrap my arms around her.
Emma sobs uncontrollably into my chest. I stroke her wet hair, holding her.
I want to scream with joy and relief, but I stay calm for Emma’s sake.
That gunshot is still ringing in my ear, and I don’t know if we’re in danger.
“Are you hurt?” I whisper into her ear.
She pulls away from me. “I tripped and fell on my ankle,” she says, pointing to her right leg.
I let go of Emma and take a quick look at her ankle. From what I can see, she sprained it, but it didn’t look serious.
“If I help you up, do you think you can walk?” I don’t care if she can’t. I’d be happy to carry her.
She nods. “Did you hear the...was it a gunshot?”
I nod.
“Who...do you think...” she doesn’t finish the question, but I don’t have the answer.
I shrug. “Let’s get out of here,” I suggest.
I help her up, supporting her with my arm. We’ve barely walked ten steps when we come upon a trail of blood. It looks fresh.
When Emma sees it, she squeals. Quickly, I put my hand over her mouth.
“Shh,” I whisper. “If they’re still here, we don’t want them to know where we are.”
I can see her eyes widen in horror, but she nods. I remove my hand from her mouth.
“Let’s follow the trail,” I mutter, keeping my arm around her waist for support.
The blood trail leads us to a cave.
“Oh, no...Look!” Emma gasps and, before I can move, limps ahead of me.
I follow her into the cave. Inside are a baby cub and its mother. The cub’s mother is bleeding profusely, and she’s near death.
Before I can stop her, Emma is kneeling beside the two.
To my amazement, the mother bear makes a moaning sound and nudges her cub toward Emma. The poor, dying mother bear doesn’t stop moaning until Emma wraps her arms around the cub.
I take a step toward them. The mother bear lifts her great big paw to pat her offspring before closing her eyes and breathing her last. I watch the massive brown body slump to its side.
By the time I kneel next to Emma, she’s bawling her eyes out.
“Look,” she sobs, “this poor little baby just lost its mom. I can’t...It’s too horrible.”
The little fellow is snuggled in Emma’s arm, staring anxiously at me—and then at its mother.
I go to inspect the deceased bear more closely.
It doesn’t take me long to find the gunshot wound. Fucking poachers killed a mother bear.
If there wasn’t a blizzard out there and Emma in here with me, I swear I’d go after the fuckers and kill them myself. I fucking hate poachers.
“Is she dead?”
Emma’s voice snaps me out of my rage.
I nod. “We better get back to the cabin,” I mutter. “There’s nothing we can do for her.”
Emma stands up, wiping her face with the back of her hands.
“Come on, little fellow,” she says to the baby bear, and scoops him right off the ground.
“What’re you doing?”
She looks at me, wide-eyed. “Taking him with us, what do you think?”
I shake my head. “You can’t. That’s a wild animal.”
“I can, and I will. His mother gave him to me to look after. Didn’t you see how she pushed him to me and only calmed down when I took him in my arms?”
Her eyes are blazing while I struggle to find the right words.
“But Emma, he’ll grow up and...” I don’t bother arguing anymore.
I can see it in her eyes. She’s not going to budge on this.