Winter Prey

Chapter 41

Chapter 41

The snowmobiles crawled along single file when necessary, side-by-side so they could continue their conversation when possible. Their helmets lay on the leather seats in front of them, a dangerous tactic if they had to flee through the congested underbrush, but essential if they wanted to hear each other over even these well-tuned engines. There was no trail to guide them, only Kymbria's knowledge of the area, reinforced by the map they'd both examined.

"So," she said over her shoulder to Caleb as she maneuvered down what must have been a narrow deer trail, "besides a windigo's physical abilities - its capacity to move faster than the human eye can follow, superhuman strength, acute vision - it obviously has a certain amount of telepathy ability."

"According to what's been happening to you, yeah," he confirmed grudgingly. "That's not in any of the research I read, though. "

She stopped at a fork in the trail, and Caleb pulled up beside her. The heavy silence blanketed and softened even the rumble of the snowmobile engines. Though she listened closely, Kymbria could hear no bird calls, no sign of any other life in the snow-covered underbrush and trees. It reminded her of the eerie silence surrounding the sweat lodge that night. The feeling of isolation, a bubble in the wilderness that didn't fit.

"That way leads towards the lake," she said with a nod, "and another road, the one that runs close to where Keoman and I visited his sweat lodge when I first arrived. And...."

"And?" he prodded.

"I don't know how much you can tell after all these years, but this area was once burned over. The summer camp we attended in our teen years was near here. There are some caves behind where the camp was, but believe me, we explored each and every one of them years ago. None of them was a windigo lair."

"None you found. You don't think for a minute this thing would leave its hibernating place exposed to discovery, do you?"

"Are you insinuating that it had something to do with the fire back then? To run us out of the area, so it could leave its lair each new hunting season without discovery? The fire was in the summer, Caleb. The thing would have been asleep."

"It should have been asleep through this month, also," he reminded her. "It woke up early this season."

"The forces," she murmured.

"What do you mean?"

"We believe that there are forces that guide events at times," she explained. "Call it fate, whatever you want to. Coincidences don't just happen, not when there's a foretold path set out."

"The same forces that brought you back here at this exact time?"

When she glared at him in irritation, he held up a forestalling hand. "I'm not contradicting you or denigrating any cultural beliefs, Kymbria. I know things like this happen. I've seen the results over the years."

She relaxed a bit. "Foretold paths are not set in stone. There's free will to take into consideration. Maybe I've been set on this course by forces we believe in but don't completely understand, but it's my decision as to whether or not to follow it. Or, even if I do, I have a choice in how I make my decisions along the way."

Caleb pulled back his snowmobile suit sleeve to look at his watch. "We're not going to be able to investigate those caves this trip. We need to start back."

"It's only about another ten minutes to the caves."

"And then what? We don't have time to spend there. And if we do run into this thing, due to the weather, we might be trapped there with it. I doubt it would be the blizzard that would kill us. No, we've made a lot of progress, at least as to where we think we should search next. We need reinforcements before we do that, though."

"But Nodinens...."

"She might already be dead," Caleb said quietly.

"But if she's not...oh, god, how can we just go back now?"

~~~

Standing at the mouth of the lair, even Its keen vision could not see across the distance to where the voices came from. Its hearing identified two humans: Her and that one who wore the cross. Why did She continue to be with him? Didn't She understand their destiny was entwined?

Or was it? Was this another trick of the spirits who controlled Its destiny during this existence? During Its time as this being? Was this a further punishment? Give It hope - the one emotion that, when withdrawn, would make this purgatorial existence even worse - then remove that hope? Hope was a powerful emotion, especially when absent for so long. Hope could be dangled like a tantalizing minnow in front of a hungry, winter-weary pike, then jerked away a second before culmination. The hunger would be worsened a hundred-fold by the temptation of ending the dark bleakness.

Behind It, the old woman shuffled across the pebble-strewn dirt floor. It turned to face the tiny, wrinkled being. Nodinens, she had said her name was, insisting that if she were to die, It must know who It killed.

"I'm leaving," Nodinens said. She spoke in the language people used today, one It understood, although some of their previous conversations had taken place in the Old words.

It silently studied her. The aged one had conquered her repugnance at the remains of previous meals. She wore the moccasins from the woman, the heavy jacket from the man, the fur-lined hood cinched around her face. The man had been three times her size, and she only grew as high as Its upper thigh. The jacket enveloped her nearly to the moccasins. Beneath the bottom of his jacket, the blanket dangled an inch or so. She thrust her hands in the opposite sleeves to keep them warm, similar to how women of his tribe fashioned muffs from the mink they trapped.

You cannot leave and know where to lead them back to.

"You blinded me until we got here. I have no idea where I am."

But you will, if I allow you to walk out of here now.

"There's nothing else for us to discuss," she insisted. "You either have to kill me or let me go. And I don't think my death right now is part of my destiny. Or yours. Otherwise, I would not still live."

She spoke the truth, although It didn't understand how or why. That blood-lust had been absent towards her, the hunger nonexistent.

You have no answers for me. It shook its head in irritation, dislodging clumps of matted fur. It pushed them back. But that does not mean you are free to leave. It would be foolish of me to allow someone with knowledge of where I have hidden all these many years to tell others.

"Then what are you going to do with me?"

It leaned down and clasped one claw-tipped paw around her tiny waist, and with the other one, drew the jacket hood over her eyes.

You must not see. It will be better that way.