Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 84533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84533 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
And what would I do if I found him? It wasn’t as if he would want anything to do with me.
Finally, the fence ended, and I wound around it, heading in the direction his house had to be, weaving my way around the pines, blue spruces, and Douglas firs, the shadows growing. Afternoon was fading, bleeding into evening as the sun began to go down. I heard a noise to my left, my head jerking in that direction, but I didn’t see anything.
There were bears out here, there had to be, yet there I was, walking around with food and also being food. But instead of turning back, I kept going, kept chasing a feeling I would never find, like that high I used to get when I snorted drugs up my nose—needing more, needing to feel, needing an elusive something I could never see or make out, but that I spent my life missing and knowing was there.
I felt eyes on me, which made my skin crawl. There was another noise, and I knew something was out there. What kind of animal was stalking me? My heart sped up, nerves prickling along my skin. I looked at my phone again, only to realize I’d lost the signal while I wasn’t paying attention.
“Fuck.”
I turned around, heading back. The eyes on me continued to follow, and every now and again, a crackle of a branch or movement.
I sped up, clutching the duffel. Maybe I could use it as a weapon.
When there was another noise that sounded closer, I whipped my head in that direction, heart in my throat, my breathing doing a better job at running away from me than I was doing at escaping whatever was after me.
I probably wasn’t supposed to run. That would just make it come after me faster. But I picked up the pace anyway, a slow jog now, telling myself it was a compromise between running and walking. Was I going in the right direction? I thought so. All I’d done was turn around, but it felt easy to get lost out here, easy to get things mixed up, and though I didn’t have much to live for, getting torn apart by a bear or a fucking wolf wasn’t in my top-five choices of ways to go.
It was getting darker, and this was really fucking dumb. I kept moving, looking at my phone, and damn it, still no signal.
I stepped on something, twisting my foot the wrong way, pain immediately shooting through my ankle as I fell to the ground. Everything went silent around me except my own breathing and my heart, which were both somehow too quiet but also like a marching band. When there was another crackle of twigs breaking, I reached out, trying to grab anything close, and found a thick branch. It was likely what made me fall, but hopefully it would now help me fight off whatever was out there.
“Hello?” I called out, because maybe the wild animal hunting me just wanted to talk? Jesus, I was ridiculous.
There was a rustling sound to my right, getting closer and closer. The sun had gone down enough that the sky was dark but bathed in an almost deep red, and on that background, an upright figure revealed itself—and while large, he wasn’t a bear.
Crow’s midnight eyes were angry and wild, brown hair a mess of dark waves hanging down around his face. He growled, sounding like an animal, my heart bursting as I crawled backward. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out, and of course, he didn’t talk either, just took slow, predatory steps toward me.
Oh, my heart was back, thudding against my chest, blood rushing through my ears, and strangely, I pictured it like that redness in the sky.
“I wasn’t… I didn’t…”
He lunged toward me.
I swung the branch, but he caught it easily, jerking it from my hand, another pain stabbing into me there. Crow threw it into the woods, and for the first time, I noticed the rifle on his back.
I closed my eyes, wondering if he was going to aim it at me, if he would beat me or rip into me the way I’d thought a bear would, but instead, it was the duffel he snatched from my hands. I opened my eyes as he tore it open, looking inside, rummaging through it. He stopped, eyes meeting mine, and cocked his head.
Seconds ago, I didn’t see any humanity in his stare, but it now softened, something else trying to sneak through, before it was wiped away again. This time, he ripped the backpack off me, going through that too, then lowering his arm and letting it dangle there.
“I brought your food. I worried you might need it…but I couldn’t get in, so I…” So I thought I would traipse along the mountain with nothing to protect myself, trying to find his house without dying, and then expecting him to welcome me with open arms? Crow didn’t live up here because he wanted people coming to see him. He lived up there because he wanted to be alone. “I’m sorry. I invaded your space. I know I shouldn’t have done that, but I just… I don’t like the way they treat you.”