Ice -- Wolv book II

22 - Ghosts of Bloodvein

Instead of following Highway 6 up to Thompson, I turned northeast, finding my way up Highway 304.

It didn't take long before I was the only one on the road; there were few people that had reason to use the road to begin with, and even fewer used it in the winter months.

While winter had hit the north hard, it had yet to rear its ugly head down here. I listened to the lady on the radio drone on about the weather.

"...At the moment, it looks like we're heading for a mild winter, folks! That shouldn't be surprising; in fact, this last October was one for the record books. I don't know about you, but I can't remember it being so warm this late in the year!

"Anyways, it seems that our warm spell will be ending pretty quick. We're looking at snow for southern Manitoba by next Sunday!"

I clicked the volume off. Next Sunday! That gave me only seven days before the temperature became unbearable.

Two hours later, I pulled into the tiny town of Manigotagan, and filled up with gas one last time. I'd been running on fumes until now.

Once again, I was only passing through Manigotagan; it was the last stop before Bloodvein. Once I'd topped up my tank--and paid, avoiding eye contact with the greasy-looking clerk as much as humanly possible--I sped away from the town, leaving it in the dust just as I had before.

A long, narrow gravel road peeled away from the town, disappearing into the granite landscape almost as fast as it had appeared. It wasn't marked on many maps, and the few maps that did have it drawn proclaimed that the condition of the road was "unknown." I stared down the uncharted route warily.

Why am I even going to Bloodvein? I could go back to Wallace Lake. That's just as close to Black Lake as Bloodvein is! There's a campground there and everything! I could get a boat there--or better yet, catch a ride into the park!

I frowned sadly. Wallace lake was, technically, a Provincial Park, and Manitoba Parks shut down most of their campgrounds in mid-October. There wouldn't be anyone there to help me. There probably wouldn't even be anything left there for me to steal.

I pulled off of Highway 306 and started my way down the road. It was the path that lead to Bloodvein.

It didn't take long for the smooth gravel surface to morph into an unkempt, bumpy path of a road. The further I went down the road, the worse it became; deep ruts etched themselves into the trail, and eventually, the gravel turned into dirt.

I felt the wheels slide beneath me, and I gunned the motor, wrestling the Sunbird back onto the 'road.' I don't remember it being this bad!

The dirt began to glisten, and soon enough, the dirt, too, ended, becoming mud. Brown water filled the ruts in the road, and I could feel the vehicle fighting to continue forward.

The road weaved around giant granite slabs, and with every turn I took, I felt the wheels skid across the dirt. I tightened my grip on the wheel, breathing heavily. It is only a matter of time before I end up in a tree! I looked down pitifully at the dash--the vehicle was trying, and slowly failing, to master the pathway.

Too bad Dwayne didn't have a Jeep. No one in their right mind would have ever taken a car down here.

And yet, this is the second time I've done this. Huh. I would've thought that I'd have learned by now! I smirked, rounding another bend. I'm almost there, anyways!

The road up ahead rose up over a hill, and I leaned forward, revving the motor up the incline. I didn't really remember every detail about my last journey here, but I felt like the community had to be close.