Chapter 18

Avery

It was a dumb idea, and I feel even dumber now for following through with it. I’ve seen Jack outside in this blizzard, and he looked like he was doing okay. I’ve seen him outside in this weather without even putting a coat on!

Some part of me must have imagined that I could face this cold just as easily. That maybe I’d get out into it and the storm would calm down, leaving me trudging along with ease until I was out of the proverbial woods if not the actual woods.

It turns out that the blizzard’s just getting started, and I’ve never been so deep in any type of woods in my life.

The flurries aren’t constant, but when they come it’s like a blinding, impenetrable white wall. The flakes are big and fluffy, falling slowly but accumulating quickly. The snow’s almost up past my legs, and every step is a giant trudge.

The melted bits from the storm’s little intermission earlier evolved into a layer of dirty slush, which has since frozen into an unpleasant mire of dirt and ice—all mixed in with the embankments of snow surrounding me.

The current flurry, as intense as it is, is starting to exhaust itself. I feel like I’m trapped in a giant snow globe. Even when things seem like they’re calming down, the next volley of snowflakes could blanket the world at any time.

As the flurry dies down to a few, sparse flakes, I take in my surroundings. There’s nothing but a sea of snow and snow-covered trees in every direction.

I’m losing my sense of time. There’s still daylight, but the sun is well-hidden behind thick clouds.

I trudge some more.

Melted snow and ice is starting to seep through Jack’s giant boots, soaking my poor feet. I realize that I’m shivering. It wasn’t that cold when I left the cabin, but it’s starting to get unbearable.

I see what looks like a clearing. I don’t know where I’m going, but I might as well start towards that. I lift my leg up and take another step, breaking through a top layer of ice and pushing down through two or more solid feet of snow.

And there it is—a slurry of fresh powder and jagged scraps of ice flood into my boot.

I feel my lower lip pressing against my incisors, my mouth so ready to make an F sound.

“Ffffff…”

I never wanted to swear so bad in my life, but I stop myself. I settle for slamming the backs of my hands against the frozen top layer of ice.

“Ffffffff...”

Gosh, that stings, but I stop myself from swearing again.

Looking down at my freezing, red hands, still lying on the ice, I notice that I’m still carrying Jack’s camera around my neck.

I also notice an unexpected sensation coming from above.

Is that...warmth?

And is that sunshine I see glistening off the crystals of snow and ice?

I lift my hands up from the snow, which is already starting to melt.

I’m still soaked, but I’m not shivering anymore.

I stand up straight and see the blue sky, and sunshine coming from almost directly overhead.

It must still be early in the afternoon, and it’s suddenly much warmer.

Instead of being ready to celebrate my good fortune, I’m worried that dreaming this, or hallucinating, while I’m actually passed out in a snowdrift somewhere.

With each step I take, the revolting sound and feeling of melting slush are there to remind me that I’m still very much in reality.

Wherever I’m going, I’m getting closer to the clearing. But wherever my destination is, it’s further than the few steps I thought hoped it would be.

The sun sinks below the horizon as I trudge along, and the wind is bringing a chill back to the air. If it wasn’t already below freezing before, it is now. Gusts of wind are blowing snow around chaotically.

I put a hand up like a visor over my eyes as I approach a clearing. It’s getting dark faster than I expected it would, making it impossible to see much.

There’s a dense thicket of trees on the other side of the clearing. My goal is to find my way out of the woods, but with the wind violently whipping snow and sleet in every which direction, a shielded spot under some tall trees is starting to seem inviting.

I step into the clearing. The snow is no longer up to my waist, but my oversize boots are full of thawing mush. Pretty soon, it’s going to be like I’m standing in two pools of water.

I don’t want that. In fact, I don’t want to be standing at all for much longer. That grove of trees, just across the clearing, looks like a nice spot for a quick rest.

It can’t be more than fifty feet away, or maybe a hundred. It’s tough judging distances with all this frozen water flying around, not to mention in the dark.

I hold Jack’s camera up, and in a stroke of genius, fumble with the flash before I take a picture. The flash lights up the darkness, illuminating the clearing around me, if only for a second.

It also seems to be swiftly getting darker. It can’t be that late, can it?

What time did I think it was, again? The flash is enough to help me get my bearings and make it a few more feet further in the snow. Plus, I guess this way if I die—which I’m constantly sure I’m going to do out here anyway—at least my last few moments will be documented if anyone develops this film.

Wow, I’m really shivering. I’m also struggling to keep my eyes open. Getting through snow this deep is hard work, and it’s quickly exhausting me.

Flash! Goes the camera as I use it to light my way.

This is ridiculous. How big can these woods be, anyway? I thought I’d find my way to civilization by now—a town, a road, maybe Burlington, or the Ben and Jerry’s factory or something.

Flash!

I thought I’d find my way out of all this. I should’ve known it wouldn’t be easy.

There’s no time for these self-indulgent thoughts. I feel like I’m about to fall asleep in the middle of this clearing. I can’t let that happen.

Flash!

I start running through the clearing. It’s blustery and bitterly cold, there’s water sloshing around my feet, and my eyelids are getting remarkably heavy—but I need to make it to the clearing before I pass out.

I just need to get back into the woods, then I can doze off, and nap.

I can see the woods, the snow-blanketed pines. It almost looks too perfect, like an old, classic cartoon.

Like a Disney movie.

Flash!

I’m Snow White, fleeing to find refuge in the woods.

But if I’m Snow White, then who’s the Queen? And who’s the Huntsman?

Flash!

Who cares? For a moment, I can see the beautifully drawn forest in front of me. It’s so close, yet just out of reach.

I’m still running, I think. I must be getting my second wind – it’s like I’m flying right into the forest with no effort at all.

Flash!

I wonder which woodland creatures will be there to greet me? They’ll probably be frightened of me at first, but I can win them over with a song.

Flash!

I think the bulb on this camera is dying. When it does, I’ll be truly in the dark. From what I can see, I’m in the forest, but it doesn’t look too enchanted.

I don’t sense any magic in the air, just the same viciously cold air.

And that wind, it doesn’t let up—neither does my shivering.

I collapse onto the forest floor, sitting at first, fighting to keep my eyes open. I can’t fight it any longer, though, the urge to sleep is overpowering.

I collapse again, this time landing face down on the enchanted forest ground. The snow is making a cool, soft pillow to rest my face.

I let my eyes close, relieved to feel the sweet embrace of sleep.

But what’s this? I hear the tippy taps of what could only be an adorable woodland creature approaching.

Enough napping, I feel energized enough by this development.

“Oh, please don’t be frightened,” I say, lifting my head up to get a good look at my new friend. I clear my throat, trying to get my singing voice ready.

I aim the camera at the sound. It will allow me to get a better look at the wide-eyed deer or bunny rabbit that’s come to greet me. Maybe the picture I take will end up being actually cute for once.

Flash!

“Oh, ffffff…” I’m not singing.

This woodland creature is not of the Disney variety. In fact, this woodland creature would be much more at home in a Werner Herzog documentary.

A bear. It’s a freaking bear.

The bear doesn’t seem interested in answering my question. It looks ragged, like he, or she, just woke up from its own midday badly from a nap.

And I just flashed a big, bright light right in its big, grumpy bear face.

I see a hint of fear in the bear’s eyes, but that’s not stopping it from coming closer. I start pushing myself up, but the second I begin to move, the bear slaps the ground with its paws, lowers its head and makes a low, growling noise.

“Uh… Easy there, big fella. I didn’t mean to wake you from your hibernation or whatever.” Now I really want to move, but I can’t. My head feels like it weighs a thousand pounds, and it falls back to the ground.

All I wanted to do was make a clean break and try to get a fresh a start in life as I could.

“And now,” I whimper softly into the ground, “now I’m just going to die.”

I shut my eyes. This can’t really be happening, can it?

The bear roars. It’s happening. I keep my eyes shut tight.

I feel the heat of the bear drawing nearer, and I hear the sound of its paws hitting the ground—followed by what sounds like the bear’s entire body hitting the ground.

There’s grunting. Huffing. Snorting. Scrambling around.

Then I hear it: a roar.

Not a bear’s roar, but a man’s.

Jack.

Jack’s come to save me.

Barking follows, and I hear the bear snarl in response.

Buck.

My man and his dog are here to save the day.

The final thing I hear is a nasty, awful wet sound.

SNAP!

I open my eyes and lift up my head once again.

I can’t see anything.

Flash! Goes the camera.

Jack is lying top of the bear, holding its head between his hands.

“Jack?”

Jack drops the bear’s lifeless head and stands up.

“It’s okay,” Jack says quietly. “He didn’t suffer. You’re safe now.”

“You k-killed it with just your hands, Jack!”

I can feel him shrug as he comes over to me, scooping me up in his arms.

“I’m a killer,” he tells me. “That’s what these hands do.”

But when he smooths his warm palm over my cold, wind-burnt cheek, I know his hands are good for other things, too.

I’ve felt them. On my skin and between my legs and now, on my face, warming me up with their impossible heat.

There’s a gentleness inside him that I don’t think even he knows is there. But I’m starting to see it.

“Let’s get you home, honey,” Jack says, placing a hot kiss on my forehead.

I feel like my head is growing heavy again, and sleep overtakes me.