Wendigo

Chapter 9

Sara looked at her phone to see that it was nearly four in the morning, and she was wide awake. After sleeping for so long the previous day, she knew that lying down and attempting to sleep would be futile. Starting her day very early seemed to be the best option.

She carefully stretched, checking to see if her pulled muscles she had been favoring were feeling better. To her relief, most of the sharp pains that she had after her fall were gone. She was still bruised and sore, which would slow her down when she was finally able to leave the cabin after the storms broke.

Sara began heating her pot of water to make her food for the day and coffee. She sat at the table as she waited and sipped from her water bottle. Listening to the rain earlier had helped her calm down and relax. She had never been frightened while camping the way she had been earlier. She dismissed what happened as stress and being stuck in the cabin until she felt better and the storm system passed.

Sara looked at the journal sitting on the table in front of her. She wanted to continue reading, but she felt apprehensive about picking up the book and continuing. It did not matter to her if she felt dread; she needed to continue learning about the men who lived in the cabin. Sara grabbed the journal and opened it to where she had left off.

December 6, 1879

Jim says he feels better this morning. I helped him sit up for a bit. He is frail and in a lot of pain. While I helped him sit, I could feel his chest rattle. I know he is hurt worse than he is telling me. He keeps having more bruising show up on his belly and chest. I am not a doctor, but I know that should not be happening now. It has been six days since the accident. His bruises should be healing, not getting worse.

This morning, he ate some more fry bread and some of the soup on the stove. After that and drinking a little water and willow bark tea, he has gone back to sleep. It is not a deep sleep. It is the same restless, fitful sleep that he has been getting. I wish I knew of something that would help him sleep.

Jim asked me how bad my shoulder is hurt. I did not know what to tell him. I lied and told him it was just bruised badly. I know things are not right inside of it. I also know that if I tell him that, he will try to do more, and that will make him worse. I might not get better, but I also will not get worse if I keep doing what I am doing. He will get worse if he does not rest and take it easy until he heals more.

December 6, 1879

Second entry. I have been scooping the snow that is packed against the door and melting it for us to have water to drink. The last time I opened the door, it was snowing hard again, and the wind had blown the snow, filling up all the space I had managed to clear out. If the snow and wind keep up the way they are, they will bury this cabin completely.

I am worried about the firewood I have inside. I am going through all of the pieces I can handle much faster than I want. If we run out of firewood in this cabin, I don’t know if I will be able to get to any that I have stacked against the outside walls. I started the wood stacks right beside the door, but I will have to dig them out, and I don’t know if I can. Having one of us get hurt is bad. With both of us being hurt, I don’t know if I will be able to keep things going. My two biggest worries right now are us running out of meat and out of wood. We won’t last long if we run out of either of those things.

Sara marked her place in the journal and got up to get a cup of hot water for her coffee and cook her breakfast. As she stirred the water into her package of noodles, her heart sank. She again felt the guilt of having abundant food while Herschel struggled with knowing that he and Jim might not have enough food to last through the blizzard.

Sara picked up her tin coffee cup just as a crash of thunder sounded on top of the tiny cabin, making her jump. She grimaced as she flung the hot water off her hand and set the cup on the table.

“Figures,” Sara muttered. “Just what I need, burns on top of all the cuts and bruises while being stuck here because of the storms.”

Sara looked carefully at her hand to see the skin red and blotchy from the water. She did not see any signs of blistering and believed that it was only a first-degree burn. It would hurt for a while, but it was not serious.

She pulled her first aid kit out of her backpack and began to rummage through it. She was starting to become concerned she had left the burn cream out of it when it was packed but eventually found it. She rubbed the cream into her hand, thinking about how lucky she was that it was so simple for her to treat her injuries and illnesses.

Sara sat down at the table, put away her first aid kit, and proceeded to make her cup of coffee. She stared into space as she slowly stirred. She wanted to be at home, snuggled up to her husband in bed. She sighed because even if she was at home in her bed, her husband was away for work.

She looked at the journal sitting on the table. She hated starting a book and not finishing it. This journal was the same way to her. She had to finish it. She picked it up and began to read again.

December 6, 1879

Third entry. Jim sat in the chair at the table for a little while before we had supper. He says he is feeling quite a bit better. He was talking more than he has since he got hurt. He did start to cough after a while, so I helped him lay down again. I could tell the coughing hurt him a lot. I gave him a cup of that willow bark tea, and it helped. He is asleep now.

I am worn out. I think I will try to get some sleep while I can before I have to get up again and take care of the fire. If the snow keeps falling, it is going to bury the cabin and us along with it.

December 6, 1879

Fourth entry. I can hear something walking on the roof. It is the same slow, plodding steps that I heard outside the cabin before. I pray that it leaves our chimney alone. We cannot do without the heat from that stove very long. Whatever it is, if it is here to kill us, I wish it would just do it and get it over with.

December 7, 1879

This morning I had to use the stove poker to break through the snow above the doorway to be able to see the sky. We are completely buried. The stovepipe has stayed warm enough that the snow has not covered the top of the chimney. That is the only thing that will keep us alive now. I can hear the wind and feel it shaking this cabin even with us buried the way we are.

Jim is still asleep this morning. He woke up during the night while I was stoking the fire. We talked for a little while before he went back to sleep. I stayed up a bit longer to make sure the fire caught up before I lay down and dozed off.

Sarah, my love, oh, how I miss you, our home, and our life together. There is not a day that goes by that I don’t miss you, but being trapped in what could be our tomb by these storms makes me long for you like I never have. Even though you are gone, I love you more each day.

Jim just woke up and offered to help me make fry bread to go with our pot of soup I am keeping on the stove. I will take him up on his offer before he changes his mind.

Sara stuck the lightstick wrapper she had been using as a bookmark in the journal to save her place. She got up and went to where the pot of water was sitting on the old cast iron stove beside her gas-powered camp stove. She carefully stuck her little finger in the water to check the temperature before refilling her coffee cup for another round.

Sara returned to the table and made her coffee as she thought about what she had just read. The thought of something stalking the cabin was disconcerting to her for several reasons. What would do that type of thing? Was it an animal that was injured, rabid, or sick in some other way? If it was looking for food, why did it not tear into the cabin? She knew the answers to her questions would not be answered unless she continued to read. Sara picked up the little book and began again.

December 7, 1879

Second entry. I told Jim about our situation. I told him everything, including about the snow, how bad my shoulder is, how we might be tight on food, and even about that thing skulking around at night. Jim expressed his displeasure at what I told him by yelling at me in three languages.

He was not angry with me because of anything I did wrong. He was mad because I did not tell him sooner. There is nothing either of us can do about any of it right now, but at least we both know what we are up against.

Jim started planning on how to ration our food to make it last the longest. Even with that, if this snow and these storms don’t break soon, we are in trouble. Jim seems to think that if he stays on the mend the way he is, he will be able to at least set some rabbit snares soon. I am telling him not to rush himself, but I know better than to argue with him. Jim will do what he wants no matter what I say.

Jim also began to tell me of all of the different things that it could be walking around the cabin each night. Every one of them is viler than the last. Some of the stories his people tell are the things of nightmares. They are also meant as warnings for many things. I guess to them, it is like some of the fairy tales we were told as kids or even like some of the stories in the Bible.

Sarah, you would love the stories Jim tells me. I remember how much you loved to read and hear ghost stories. You were never afraid of anything or anyone. I feel like I need a bit of your bravery and courage now.

Sara leaned back and cradled her coffee cup in both hands. Herschel’s Sarah and her seemed to have several things in common. Both of the women loved to read. They both liked ghost and scary stories. Sara’s husband had told her she was brave many times, and now reading that Herschel felt the same way about his wife, made her feel connected to her. Sara felt like they would be friends if they lived in the same century.

The beep of a notification from Sara’s phone pulled her away from her musing. She looked at the screen to see it was her husband, Kevin, sending her a text asking if she was awake. Smiling as she picked up her phone, she replied she was and waited for his call.

When her phone rang, she answered it happily, “Hello, love. How are you this morning?”

“Tired,” Kevin admitted.

“Why? Couldn’t you sleep?” Sara asked.

“I’m sorry for the way I spoke to you last night and being angry with you,” Kevin told her. “I have slept through calls from you before while I was away for work. You never got mad at me. After what you have been through, you need as much sleep and rest as you can get, whenever you can get it, and I should not have gotten mad at you for that. I’m sorry.”

Sara gently told Kevin, “It’s okay. You don’t need to apologize. You were worried about me when I didn’t answer the phone. That came out as anger when we spoke. I see it all the time in the ER. The family members are scared, nerves are stretched, they’re tired, and that all comes out as anger because they don’t know what else to do.”

“That may be, but I am still sorry for how I acted. I know none of this is your fault, and I should not be angry with you. I’m not mad at you. It’s like you said. That’s just how all my fear and worry came out last night.”

“I know. That is why I am telling you to stop worrying about it. There is nothing to be sorry for.”

“Alright then!” Kevin laughed. “I’m not sorry. Let’s change the subject.”

Sara laughed, “Fine with me.”

“What are your plans for the day?” Kevin asked.

“Well, considering the storms are still here, I will be hiding in my little log bomb shelter and reading Herschel’s journal,” Sara answered as she felt thunder shake the ground. “What else am I going to do?”

“Nothing,” Kevin replied. “Have there been any big revelations in that journal so far?”

“Well, I found out that Herschel’s wife, Sarah, also liked to read scary stories and ghost stories. He also called her brave. I feel like if we would have lived at the same time, we would have been friends.”

“She sounds like you. The two of you having the same first name is a little eerie,” Kevin told her. “Now that I think about it, your entire trip has been downright strange. It started with you meeting Steve at the store and all the info he gave you about the Lost River State Forest. That was followed up by the deer, and it pushing you off a cliff. And then, if that was not enough, the deer leads you to that cabin, where you find the journal of a man whose wife had the same name as you. You don’t think all of that is weird? Not even a little bit?”

Sara admitted, “Okay, yes, I think it is a little weird. At least the deer/cabin/journal part of the story.”

“What about Steve?”

“I think meeting Steve was all a coincidence. It is not the first time I have had that happen, and I am sure it will not be the last. Most people who work in sporting goods stores use what is sold there in some capacity. Are you going to tell me that you have never gone to the store for gear and spoken with someone who knows about the area you are planning to visit?”

“No, you’re right. I have had that happen before. I’m glad you gave me the phone number he gave you, you know, just in case Steve does turn out to be some crazy lunatic who is after you.”

“Ha-ha, very funny,” Sara said sarcastically. “I have met enough creeps that I can recognize one a mile away, and Steve is not one.”

“I know he isn’t. To tell you the truth, if I need to come and get you, I am calling him to see if he will guide me to you,” Kevin told her. “Some of the best advice I have gotten about trips has been from people working at the stores where I bought my gear.”

Sara said, “I have the feeling that if you asked him to help find me, you could blindfold him, and he would still be able to walk straight here. He was right about everything. I was looking forward to seeing the rest of the sights he told me about. I guess those will have to wait until you and I come back. But next time, if the forecast says there will even be a cloud in the sky, I am not coming. I do not want to get stuck like I am this time because of storms.”

“Deal!” Kevin agreed. “Hey, Babe, I’m sorry, but I have got to go. I still haven’t gotten out of bed, and I need to get to the office early this morning.”

“Oh, of course,” Sara answered. “I need to eat breakfast anyway, so it’s no problem. Remember that I love you as you pour over all that paperwork.”

“I will, and I love you too. I will send you a text of the forecast for your area in a little while. It looks like that system should be out of there in the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours.”

Sara sighed, “Well, at least there is a light at the end of the tunnel now that is not an oncoming train.”

“That’s how I feel about it too. I love you, Babe. Talk to you later. Bye,” Kevin told her.

“Bye,” Sara replied before hanging up.

Sara placed her phone on the table and looked at it. Another wave of guilt washed over her. She had communication with family and friends. She had a way of knowing what kind of weather was going to be in the area. Those were things that Herschel and Jim did not have, and they gave her a colossal advantage.

Sara picked up the journal and ran her fingers over the smooth leather cover. There were so many things she wanted to know about the man who wrote the book in her hands, as well as all the people Herschel mentioned in it. She opened it to her spot and continued to read.

December 8, 1879

The thing was here again last night. It was on the roof, and I think it was trying to bother the chimney. I stoked the fire and got it as hot as I could. I think whatever it is tried to grab the stovepipe because I heard the pipe move a little, and then that thing let out a scream like nothing I have ever heard before.

It woke Jim, and he said it was a wendigo. He said he had heard them before during the winter as a boy and would never forget that sound. I do not think Jim is lying about what he believes it is. I am just having a hard time believing that is what it is. I do know it is something that I do not recognize. I cannot believe that it is a monster out of a legend.

I am waiting for Jim to wake again so we can have breakfast. It will be a little fry bread and the pot of stew I have on the stove. That will be what all of our meals will be until one of us can get out and get something else for us to eat. Right now, it looks like Jim is healing faster than I am. I hope he is. That means he is not hurt nearly as bad as I had suspected he might be.

Jim is beginning to stir. With luck, he will feel good enough to help me with the fry bread again. I do alright with the stirring. Forming it into flat pieces to fry is the part that is hard for me. It is a lot easier to do when you can use both arms and hands instead of just one.

December 8, 1879

Second entry. Jim did help me make breakfast. We made enough fry bread to last the day. It was easier for both of us to do it that way.

Jim ate well and sat for quite a while before lying down again. I am beginning to think he might make a full recovery. Jim had me worried when the rock slide happened. I really did not believe he would make it through the first night. Jim is a lot stronger than I thought he was. He is also a lot stronger than I am, without a doubt.

My shoulder is not any better. It has been over a week since the slide happened, and as Jim heals, I think I might be getting a little worse. The bruising is the same or worse. I am having trouble with my hand. It keeps feeling like it is asleep, and it is cold all the time. I am a little worried that gangrene might be trying to set in, but I have seen that before, and it does not look like this. That is the one consolation I have.

Sara stopped reading and began to run the list of symptoms through her head. There were multiple possibilities, including fractures, dislocations, and even possibly compartment syndrome. Something was blocking nerve function or blood flow to cause the issues with his hand. It did not matter which one of the injuries it was. All of them would have to be treated by a doctor, which Herschel did not have access to.

Sara got up and moved her pot of noodles to the table. She stirred it, the steam hitting her hand that she had burned earlier causing it to hurt. Sara wrinkled her nose as she sat down to wait for her food to cool while she continued reading.

December 8, 1879

Third entry. Jim has been asleep for some time. I am waiting to bank the fire one more time before I try to get some sleep. I can hear those footsteps outside again. Dear God, that thing is massive. I can almost feel the cabin and ground shake with each step it takes. I have to keep the fire hot so it does not yank this stovepipe out. We will die if it does.

Maybe it wants us to die. I don’t quite understand this wendigo thing that Jim thinks it is, but perhaps that is what it wants. They eat human flesh. Does it see us as food? Is that why it is stalking around the cabin? Is it waiting for us the same as we would wait for a deer? I am going to tend the fire and then try to get some sleep.

Sara shivered as she marked her place in the book. The fear that Herschel must have felt was unimaginable to her. Any part of their situation would be difficult. The combination of injuries, low food supply, the blizzard, and the thing stalking the cabin was beyond comprehension.

She moved her pot of noodles, setting it in front of her, and began to pick at them. If her husband was correct and the storms were going to last another two to three days, she did not need to worry about conserving her food in any way. She had enough supplies to last four times that, and she would be hiking back to her car and going home as soon as the weather cleared. Yet, she felt like she needed to conserve what she had out of respect for Herschel and Jim. It was silly to feel that, but Sara couldn’t help it; she did.

Sara pushed the pot of noodles to the side and began to snack on her trail mix. She would eat a full meal later. She had lost her appetite.