Wendigo

Chapter 11

The rain was pouring again, and Sara could hear the distant rumble of thunder. The flashes of lightning were filling the cabin in a haunting glow through the c***k in the door she had once again opened. Sara wanted to keep the door open as long as the wind did not force rain inside the tiny shelter.

Sara checked her phone for messages before sending a text to her husband, letting him know about the storm on top of her and that she was okay. She pulled one of the remaining charged battery packs from her backpack and plugged her phone in. Even with the signal being sketchy due to the weather and terrain, it was better than nothing.

A sudden clap of thunder rocked the cabin and sent a shiver down Sara’s spine. She would never get used to that. One of the reasons she loved hiking and camping was for the peace that came with it. The thunder set her nerves on edge and made her feel worse than before she started her vacation. The days of the never-ending storms and crashing thunder were wearing on her.

Sara looked at the journal on the table. She felt silly for being upset over a few days of thunderstorms when Herschel and Jim spent many days trapped by snow so deep it completely buried the cabin. She gave a short laugh at herself and picked up the book to continue reading.

December 12, 1879

We had a good breakfast and then went to work clearing the rest of the snow so Jim can get out. I tried to get him to let me do as much of the work as I could. That way, he could save his strength for going out and setting the snares and traps. Of course, he argued and worked right beside me the whole time.

Jim is going to sit and rest a bit before he tries to get out. He has already laid out the path he will take and where he will set everything so that it won’t take him as much time. I worry about him going out by himself, but we have no other choice. I know I will never be able to keep up with him and would just slow him down. Speed in doing this is of the utmost importance. We have no idea how long the break in the weather will be, and he needs to be back before dark.

I am going to make some more fry bread so he can take that and a little of the venison that is left with him. We don’t have a lot left, but he needs to keep up his strength. Jim is our best hope of getting more food.

Sara paused in her reading and thought of what Herschel had written about the weather they were experiencing. The similarities in the cycling of the storms were extremely close to the weather she was dealing with. The only difference was for her, it was June and warm. For Herschel and Jim, it was December. That meant blizzards and not the thunderstorms she was experiencing.

Sara got up from the table to refill her coffee cup with water. She looked at the cup in her hand and thought twice about more coffee. Her nerves were already on edge due to the storm. Drinking something with caffeine was the last thing she should be doing.

Sara went back to the table and dropped into her chair. She would stick with her water bottle and trail mix as she continued to read. She popped a piece of dried fruit in her mouth as she picked up the journal and opened it to her place.

December 12, 1879

Second entry. Jim has been gone longer than he should have been. It is almost dark outside, and I am worried about him. I tried to climb out to go look for him, and I couldn’t. Between my bad joints and only having one arm that works, I couldn’t climb up to the top of the snow.

There are so many things that could have gone wrong even if he were not injured. With him being hurt, it makes things so much worse. I was digging and packing more snow so I might be able to get out and track him. I had to rest for a while. I will get back to it soon.

December 12, 1879

Third entry. Dear God, please help us. Jim stumbled back to the cabin while I was trying to clear more snow. He had slipped and fallen, which would have been a minor thing if he was not already injured. Being hurt, the fall broke something loose in his chest. He was coughing up blood and nearly screaming from the pain.

I helped Jim to bed, and he is asleep now. Asleep or he passed out from the pain. I don’t know which one it is. I don’t think it really matters which it is. In the morning, I will start working on digging out more snow. I do not know what else to do.

As I write this, I can hear Jim trying to breathe. He is gasping in his sleep. I wish I knew of something to help him. I have tried to make him warm and comfortable. That is the best I can do right now while he is sleeping.

I feel so helpless. Sarah, my love, I feel the same way that I did when I lost you and our beautiful Timothy the day you gave birth to him. I want to save him with all of my heart, and there is nothing I can do for him.

Sara had to stop reading and regain her composure. Tears were streaming down her face. The injuries Herschel was describing would not be survivable in that era and without medical intervention. She had no doubt about that. Sara felt nauseous as she thought about Herschel being helpless to give any aid to Jim, to know in his gut that his best friend would most likely die.

Sara went to the door and began to breathe in the rain-cooled air. She needed to calm her stomach. She had seen injuries like this more times than she could count as a trauma nurse.

A snort made her jump. Sara saw the buck looking around the corner of the cabin at her. The deer hesitantly stepped toward the narrow opening in the door.

“Ted, you already pushed me off a cliff. If I were going to hurt you, I would have done it by now,” Sara told the deer as she wiped tears from her face.

The deer stopped moving and looked at her. The rain was coming down in sheets. Sara was confused as to why it would be out in that weather. The deer started inching its way toward the door again. Sara stepped back as the deer approached her. It stuck its snout in the door’s opening and began to sniff her through the door, tipping his head from side to side, bumping his antlers as he did.

“I guess you’re not so bad, are you?” Sara said barely above a whisper. “I’m going to sit down and read more. You can hang out here if you want.”

The deer responded with a slight huff as he pulled his head out of the door. Sara smiled at him as he gracefully stepped backward, avoiding her tarp, before he turned a glided off into the rain. Sara was shaking her head as she returned to the table and sat. That deer just kept surprising her.

Sara picked up the journal and looked at it. She was preparing herself in the same way that she would if she knew a patient was critically injured and was not expected to survive. This was the same thing she was trying to escape from by taking the vacation. Sara opened the journal and began to read again.

December 12, 1879

Fourth entry. Jim is nearly delirious with pain. He keeps coughing up blood. He said every breath feels like he is being ripped apart. He wants nothing to drink or eat. He will not even take a sip of the willow bark tea. He says it will not help him. I do not know what to do.

I sit here at the table, listening to Jim breathe. It is the sound of a death rattle, like if you shoot a deer and it does not go down immediately. I remember that sound from the war, and I will never forget it. I hate that sound.

I am going to tend the fire one last time and then try to lie down. I do not expect to sleep, but I can at least rest. I have to do my best to dig out of here tomorrow and take care of the snares and traps Jim set. I know how bad he is hurt. I also know how bad he seemed to be hurt before. He surprised me then, and he might surprise me now.

December 13, 1879

Jim is still hanging on this morning. His breathing is shallow and ragged, and he is coughing from time to time. He is not bringing much up when he does cough. I don’t know if that is good or bad. I can hope that it is good.

I am going to make sure breakfast is ready for him if he wants to eat. I will make him a little fry bread to go with the soup. He kept asking for that the first time he got hurt. Maybe he will want it this time.

December 13, 1879

Second entry. Jim took a single bite of bread and one sip of water. That is better than nothing, I suppose. He is in so much pain he does not want to move even enough to sip water. I do not blame him for that.

When he got back to the cabin last night, and I helped him undress and get into bed, his side and back were black. He has new bruises on top of his old ones. I have never seen anything like it. I am going to start digging out the snow. I hope that I can do enough by myself to make a difference.

December 13, 1879

Third entry. Jim had another coughing fit. When he did, he coughed up quite a bit of blood again. He told me he does not want to linger and die a slow death. Jim asked me if I would kill him rather than him dying from his injuries. I told him that I would not kill him, no matter what he wanted. I might carry the guilt of knowing I could have ended his suffering sooner. I could not bear the guilt of taking the life of my brother.

I am continuing to work to get the snow where I can climb out of this cabin. It is proving far more difficult for me due to my arthritis and only having one arm that works. The progress is slow going and painful for me. I know my pain is inconsequential compared to Jim’s, but it is making it harder for me to work and dig.

Now that I have rested, I am going to get back to work. I need to get us out of here. I have to at least be able to go out and get us more food. I am rationing myself, but I will not ration Jim. If he is able to eat, he needs to do so.

December 13, 1879

Fourth entry. I have done all I can for the day. I continued to work into the night. The wind has picked up, and I can no longer see the stars. I am not much on praying, but I am doing some tonight for the first time in many years. If more snow falls, I feel we are done for. As I listen to Jim gasp for air in his sleep, I fear he might be done for no matter what I do.

I am going to make a good fire and then try to sleep. I have been thinking a lot about that fire. It might be preferable to be taken by the cold than the alternative if I cannot dig out of this cabin tomorrow.

The cabin rocked as a bolt of lightning crashed nearby. Sara dropped the book and clasped her hands in front of her as she took deep, measured breaths, trying to slow her now pounding heart.

“If it isn’t the deer trying to scare the crap out of me, it is the freaking storms,” Sara muttered under her breath.

Sara exhaled deeply as she picked up the journal and found where she had left off. She was beginning to wonder if her pounding heart was from what she was reading or from the crash of thunder. Regardless of which it was, she took a drink from her water bottle and continued reading.

December 14, 1879

The snow came once more last night and filled in everything that we had cleared. It has filled the opening up to the roof again. I used the stove poker to break through to see the sky, and it is still snowing. I am resigned to our fate now. We will not leave this cabin alive.

Jim is weaker this morning. He coughed up more blood when he tried to move enough to drink some water. I fear he will perish long before I do.

My dear Sarah, how I wish things were different. If I could have saved you and our darling Timothy, I would not be here now, and neither would Jim. He is here because I needed help this year. I feel responsible for him getting hurt, and I will forever feel responsible for his death. I think that the only way he will live is if we have a miracle happen, and I gave up on those a long time ago.

December 14, 1879

Second entry. Jim woke up again. I was able to get him to drink a little water. He is pale and sweating. Every time he coughs, there is blood. I was hoping it would stop. Maybe he would have a chance if the bleeding would stop.

I checked the snow again. It is deep enough I could not break through it and see the sky. That makes it about two feet above the roof, I would say. I have never seen snow like this in my life. It is never ending.

December 14, 1879

Third entry. I can hear the wind blasting away outside. I have stoked the fire extra hot to try to keep the chimney clear. I have to do my best to keep Jim warm and comfortable.

Jim woke up, and when he moved this time, he passed out. He never had a chance to take a drink of water or a bite of food. He did not even have time to cough. I will be surprised if he makes it to morning.

Sara’s phone began to ring, pulling her away from the journal. She picked it up and answered, knowing it was her husband.

“Hello, Babe,” Sara said, trying to sound happy.

“Hello, my love. How are you doing? I tried to call you earlier, and the call wouldn’t go through,” Sara’s husband told her.

“Yeah,” Sara sighed. “Some wicked storms rolled through. I really didn’t expect any calls to get through today. That is why I sent you a text this morning.”

“Are you alright?” Kevin asked.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“You don’t sound like it. What’s wrong?”

Sara sighed again and said, “I don’t know where to start. I have so many emotions right now. Between the storms, being alone, the journal, you not being here with me like we planned, me getting hurt, being trapped in the cabin, and any number of other things, I don’t know what I should be feeling. I feel a lot, and I don’t like it.”

“Okay, that’s a lot,” Kevin agreed. “I wish I were there, and I could help you.”

“I know you do. That is one of the reasons I love you.”

“I love you too. Sorry, I have to go. Someone is waving at me from the doorway. Bye, Babe,” Kevin told her.

“Bye,” Sara replied.

Sara placed her phone on the table and looked at the time. It was lunchtime. Sara thought for a moment before opting to have lunch before going back to the journal or anything else she needed to do.