May Dawney - Survival Instincts

When Lynn finally dared to sit up and feed the fire in a way that allowed her to check on her, Dani’s eyeballs flitted under her eyelids as if she was suffering through a terrible nightmare. That’s because she is. This whole damn thing was one big nightmare.

Her vision blurred. She blinked, but it didn’t clear. Lynn frowned and looked around. Smoke hung heavily in the room. Shit. She had been too rushed to think about the logistics of making a fire indoors, but she would have to figure out a way to ventilate. Lacking the time and energy to time to think about a better solution, she took her tomahawk to the small window above the door. It shattered, and Lynn turned away to avoid the shards. Right away the smoke escaped to the outdoors. Good, problem solved. Next.

She dragged Dani closer to the fire.

Dani’s groans of complaint were the most beautiful sounds Lynn had ever heard because they meant she was hanging in there, and she was still at least partly responsive to her surroundings. Dani turned her face toward the fire as soon as she felt it and seemed to relax a little.

Lynn sat down by the fire and chewed through a large chunk of dried meat Dani had cut off the deer leg the family had preserved. Had that been just this morning? Hard to believe. It was good to get food in her system, though. Maybe it would give her some fuel for what was ahead. Dani had lost a lot of blood, so she needed animal protein as well. Speaking of which…

She clenched the meat between her teeth and shrugged off her wet jacket. The stabs of pain had become part of her ever-increasingly hellish existence, so she hardly noticed them anymore. She draped the jacket over her knees in the hope the back would dry. Getting her shirt off was more painful because the wool had stuck to her open wounds. She suffered through it stoically and twisted her neck to take in as much of the bite marks on the front of her shoulder as she could.

Not as bad as I thought. It certainly wasn’t good, but it wasn’t as devastating as she’d feared with all the blood. Much like with the wolf, her jacket had limited the damage, but there were two holes just below her clavicle big enough to push the tip of her pinkie into. The muscle below was pierced, but she could still move her hand and arm—although with a lot of pain—so at least the damage wasn’t disabling. Since she’d moved with the bear as much as possible, her collarbone was still intact. If the redness that had soaked into her sweater was anything to judge by, she’d lost quite a bit of blood, which was probably why she was so light-headed. She probed the back of her shoulder for damage, but her front had definitely taken the worst of the punishment.

Lynn slid her sweater back on to preserve body heat and chewed up the last of bit of deer jerky. Think. They had food left, but not a lot of meat or cheese. Think. They needed meat, and there was a dead bear outside. The logical conclusion was that they were having bear for dinner. Exhaustion weighed her down at the thought of having to go outside again, but it had to be done.

Better just get it over with now. She stood with a groan, got her coat back on, and shuddered as the wet wool of her sweater settled more firmly against her back. As miserable as she was, she did feel slightly stronger after soaking up the heat of the fire and getting some food in her system. It would have to be enough.

She didn’t want to go out without a fire. Thankfully, she had something that could withstand heat: the bowl that had held the candle. She untied the shovel from the cart and used it to scoop a few charred bits of wood into the bowl, then added small chunks of splintered furniture as fuel for the journey. One of Dani’s spare sweaters served as protection for her hand as she balanced the hot bowl in it. With her arm outstretched and the other hand holding her tomahawk as tightly as her shoulder would allow, Lynn slipped out and pulled the door shut behind her. She couldn’t bolt it, but she wasn’t going to be gone long.

It was maybe three hundred feet to the bear, but they were terrifying. Lynn’s heart pounded in her throat as she crept along, searching for the glow of eyes in the light of her wildly dancing flame. Nothing pounced on her, and before long, the splayed out form of the bear came into view. Maybe I can also pull Dani’s spear—

The carcass moved.

Lynn jumped back and almost dropped the bowl. She fumbled for balance as she peered at the bear’s body. She knew it was dead; it had to be dead, but then it made noise too, a small growl that sounded nothing like the bellow it had thrown out when attacking them.

Two yellow dots blinked into view in the flickering light.

Lynn’s stomach soared up into her throat as fear flashed hotly through her. I can’t fight anymore . She was too tired; she had nothing left.

Then the eyes and the fuzzy form around them tore away from the larger form and rushed over.

Lynn took another step back, but then she realized what she was looking at: a bear cub. She exhaled in relief.

It was a miniature version of its presumed mother, but Lynn felt no love for it. One day, it would grow into a specimen as big as the one that had all but killed Dani.

She put the bowl down and remained in a crouched position to await the cub. It couldn’t be more than half of Skeever’s size with big ears, big paws, and a nose it had yet to grow into. She slowly put her tomahawk on the ground and pulled her knife from her boot.

The cub uttered a little growl that sounded more plaintive than aggressive. It stumbled over its own paws on the way to her.

Lynn’s fried brain finally put two and two together. “So you’re why your mom went after us, huh? Is your den under the overpass?” She gripped the heft of the blade. “This part is going to suck for you, but else you would slowly starve to death, and so would we.”

The cub head-butted her knee.

She reached around its muzzle, yanked it over, pressed her knee onto its belly, and pushed its head up to expose its neck. The cub had just enough time to struggle and grunt before Lynn cut its throat.

Lynn clenched her jaw and dropped the knife. She grabbed the front paws to keep herself clear of any scratching nails as the cub gasped for breath, whimpered, and fought. While she watched it struggle, reality caught up with her. You could have avoided this. If you had paid attention to where you were going, you wouldn’t have lured the bear.

Her prey went limp.

Now you have to make it right. Lynn lifted the cub’s lifeless body up by the neck and stood. She had a chance now: ten pounds of bear meat in an easy-to-carry package had been delivered to her. More importantly, the small body held the key to Dani’s survival. Blood was literally much easier to swallow than meat, and all energy Dani could preserve was vital. Maybe something was watching over her after all—finally.

Lynn hurried back to the bakery with renewed vigor, pausing only to gather the fire bowl and blanket.

Nothing had changed inside, and Lynn hadn’t expected it to. Dani was sleeping or passed out, but her heartbeat was steady upon inspection.

Skeever got up and hobbled over to check her loot, but she sent him off with a pat on the head and the promise of a proper medical exam and food later on. Lynn didn’t have time now; she had to skin the cub, drain it, cut it up, roast the meat, and boil the blood. And she couldn’t just feed Dani a bowl of blood either. Her body would reject it because it was so heavy and metallic. She’d be throwing up before she got halfway through. No, Lynn would have to make a porridge-type thing that she could feed her over the course of the night and into the following day, a few spoonfuls at a time.