May Dawney - Survival Instincts

“I didn’t know you then. I didn’t… care about you like I do now. You didn’t give a damn about me either, so I figured turnabout was fair play.” Dani turned right.

“It was, I guess.” Lynn followed her, away from the highway and its shadowy underpass. “You and Kate were right, I would have left you behind in a heartbeat.”

“You did,” Dani pointed out.

Lynn chuckled. “Well, it took more than a heartbeat, and I came back. Your strategy worked.”

Dani slowed and seemed to hesitate before she put her hand on Lynn’s that was holding on to the beam. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

Lynn shook her head and halted the cart. “You were surviving, and so was I. It’s in the past.” She smiled at Dani to make sure she knew they were good. “I do have one more question I didn’t want to know the answer to, but since we’re getting it all out now, let me ask it anyway: that first day, with the wolves, did you attack that one wolf as part of some strategy I don’t know about?” She inspected Dani to see how her words landed.

Dani froze. “What? No!” She placed her body in front of Lynn’s so she could easily meet her gaze. “No, that was a mistake, and I feel horrible about it! I really thought there was only one, and I could take one wolf.”

Something flashed across Dani’s face too swiftly for Lynn to name, but it set off warning bells. Lynn listened to those instinctive signals even if they made her insides feel like a heavy block of ice in her gut. “But…?”

Dani dropped her head and stared at her hand on the shaft of the spear. “But… I could have taken out the wolf that attacked you.” She found the courage to look up and push on. “I told you I couldn’t find my spear, but I knew where it had landed and I had it in my hands in seconds. I made sure there weren’t any others, but I held Skeever back a few seconds while you fought off the wolf, and I didn’t help.”

The words left Lynn reeling. The ice evaporated in a rush of heat. “You did what ?”

Dani flinched.

Skeever startled and whimpered.

Lynn dropped the wooden beams and balled her hands to fists instinctively. “Why?” I can’t believe it! “Why would you—what—?” She couldn’t get her words in order and pressed her hands on the back of her head instead. She couldn’t wrap her mind around the idea of watching anyone—even your worst enemy—get chewed on by wolves. That wasn’t survival; that was cruelty.

Dani licked her lips. She dropped her chin onto her chest. “Judgment call. I really needed you to underestimate me, and as frantic as it was, you had it under control. I took the risk because it served the greater good at the time: getting you to think I’d die the second you left me.”

Lynn stared at her, momentarily unable to do anything else. The enormity and compounding of the lies—especially those first few days—was astounding, and it could have cost Lynn her life.

“Say something. Please.”

“I, uh…” Lynn shook her head. “I’m shocked. And pissed.” She took a deep breath in the hope it would help her get a grip on her raging thoughts and emotions. “Confused, that’s probably a good descriptor.” She stared. “Dani!”

“I know, I know, and I’m so sorry!” She threw her hands up, causing the spear to bob precariously in her loosened grip. She caught it before it fell. “You would have abandon—”

“Not while you were in immediate danger! I’d never have stood by while you were almost killed! Never! I ran right into danger to save your ass, I almost died, and you just stood there ?” She stepped away from the cart. “How dare you?”

Dani’s eyes watered, and her jaw set. “If I could undo it, I would. I panicked and… I-I forgot that it wasn’t just about getting you to cooperate.”

Anger seeped into every pore and tightened her muscles, priming her for a fight. She took a few blind paces toward the underpass beneath the highway before spinning around again. “How was I going to cooperate with you if I’d died, huh?”

Dani followed her. “I was caught up in it, Lynn. I didn’t mean to—”

“Then what did you—” A whiff of heavy animal musk caused Lynn’s nostrils to flare. Her stomach dropped. She reached for her tomahawk. Turn around!

“Look out!” Dani’s eyes widened in fear.

Skeever shot past her with a snarl.

Before Lynn could spin around, something massive hit her back, and she went down. She landed on the concrete with crushing force. A heavy paw pressed into her back and stole her breath. Bottles shattered in her backpack, and tins crushed under the weight. Shards and other sharp object pierced layers of leather as well as her flesh. A heavy musk invaded her senses: a mix of dirt, rot, and shit. Lynn would have gagged if the weight on her back had allowed her muscles to constrict. She clawed at the concrete under her fingertips as panic flooded her.

Skeever barked and growled well beyond her field of vision.

Hot breath hit the nape of her neck. Instinct kicked in, and she froze. Play dead! Don’t be prey! Lynn fought waves of fear and panic so she could relax her muscles. She whimpered as pain engulfed her body now that the massive weight on her back was held up solely by bones and organs.

Dani’s spear flew through the air with a familiar whistling noise.

The animal stomping on her back bellowed.

A rush of pure fear almost undid her threadbare grip on whatever held her all-consuming panic at bay. Only one animal made that kind of sound: bears. Lynn squeezed her eyes shut. Think! The reminder cleared some of the fog in her head. Weapon! She very slowly inched her hand toward her hip in search of her tomahawk.

“Lynn!” Dani’s voice was shrill.

With her one distance weapon gone, Dani would be unable to help her. You didn’t go after a bear with a knife unless you wanted to die. It’s okay. I know you would have helped me this time if you could have.

Teeth sank into her shoulder.

Lynn screamed in agony. There was no holding it back, especially as the bear pulled and shook its massive head, trying to tear muscle from bone. She tried to clear her head enough to focus on her hand. Her world caved in on itself. All that remained was every agonizing inch of progress toward her weapon.

Then her bubble of pain was shattered by a noise so foreign that Lynn couldn’t help focusing on it. It was a loud, repetitive banging of metal on metal. “Go! Go, you bastard! Leave us alone!” Dani banged together whatever she had found to bang. “Go!”

The bear let go and grunted.

Lynn sagged onto the pavement as relief washed through her. Whatever Dani had done agitated the bear into lifting its paw long enough for Lynn to suck in air despite the pain.

The bear’s nails raked along her arm. The heavy leather of her jacket protected her against much of the onslaught, but fire still spread along the length of her triceps. Lynn clenched her jaw to keep from crying out.

Massive paws moved along her back. Each stomp threatened to crack her spine. Then the bear pushed down and dug its nails in for leverage just below her backpack.

A ragged scream tore from Lynn’s throat.

With a bone-rattling growl, the bear pushed off and jerked her body backward like a ragdoll in the process.

She skidded to a stop and breathed in carefully. Sharp pain exploded along her chest and back. She was in too much agony to gauge how broken her body was and in too much shock to find out.

Dani cried out.

The pain in Dani’s voice acted like a bucket of ice-cold water. She didn’t have time to be hurt. Lynn wiggled her fingers and toes to make sure nothing was irreparably damaged, then pushed up on her hands and knees. The pain was searing and all-consuming, but the impact of it paled in comparison to the view that greeted her when she got herself to lift her head and open her eyes.