Karina Halle - Donners of the Dead

“It’s because you’re not Rose ,” he said.

I bit my lip as a million reasons flashed through my head. I wasn’t pretty enough, voluptuous enough, pale enough, well-dressed enough, or smart enough. I wasn’t privileged. Avery wanted a lady and I for sure wasn’t one.

I breathed in deeply through my nose, feeling a queer sense of warmth build inside. I loved Avery. I wanted him to be happy. He was a good man, a handsome man, and my best friend. He deserved a lady above all else. I couldn’t be mad at him because I wasn’t what he deserved, what he wanted.

“Do you know if she feels the same way?” I asked.

He rubbed at his chin and looked away. “I don’t know. And even if she does…feel something, it’s not as if your uncle is going to let her run off with the ranch hand.”

“Unless you had a great deal of money,” I pointed out. “Which this trip will surely give you.”

“I’d give it all to Rose, if she’d have it. I’d buy her anything she wanted.”

“And what if what she wants is to leave River Bend?” I asked softly.

He looked me in the eye, a sad smile on his thin lips. “Then I’ll take her away. As far as she wants.”

“I won’t be there.”

“You could come too, Eve. In fact, I’d want you to come.”

“That would be more than uncomfortable, Avery.”

“It wouldn’t…I promise. Don’t you want to see the world? See more than River Bend and these trees and these mountains? There’s a great big country out there, just waiting for us.”

I did want to see the world. I did want to lay my eyes on new lands and new promises. I wanted to find my place, a place where I could be me and be free from prejudice. Free to live my life and be free from fear. But I’d always imagined it being with someone who wanted me there—and only me. Someone who wanted to start their lives over again with me by their side.

And now I knew for sure that a new life wasn’t in the cards.

After that sobering thought, we ran back to the cabin through the mounting snow to have supper and settle down for the night. Meeks had calmed down a bit, maybe because he was constantly plied with moonshine, and everyone else seemed in relatively good spirits considering. Donna was happy with Meeks’ progress, saying he might be well enough to travel onwards tomorrow if the snow let up.

Unfortunately, the snow didn’t let up. It only got worse. By the time we woke up the next morning, we were in the middle of a blizzard and Jake had to nail the boards across the window shut again. Frost had covered the inside of the walls and the wind was whistling through, angry and bitingly cold, and everyone had to huddle around the fire to keep warm. Even going to the outhouse was a risky excursion for you were snow blind in the endless white. Twice, I bumped into trees thinking I was heading in the direction of the cabin.

The next day wasn’t any better.

Or the next.

The blizzard raged on for five straight days, five full, long days where we were all trapped in the cabin, our tempers starting to flare and our patience greatly diminished. While Meeks was healing, Hank, Isaac, and now Jake were miserable and agitated by the slightest thing. Tim worked extra hard keeping the peace, and even Avery became a bit whiny at the situation. It was almost like talking about Rose made him realize why he was doing this, and that he needed to get back to her as soon as he could. The only upside to the whole thing—as far as I was concerned—was that I didn’t fear the creature would come back. It was impossible for any man or animal to traverse the woods during such a storm.

On the last day of the blizzard, just as dusk was falling, I went out to the outhouse, hoping that the snow would let up a little. The drifts were huge, so tall that the way to the outhouse was now a tunnel with ice walls up both sides and the route wasn’t a straight shot, either. When you were near the trees and the outhouse, the tunnel would bend and you couldn’t see anything in front of you but the blue glow of packed snow.

I made it into the outhouse, holding my breath so I wouldn’t breathe in the overwhelmingly foul smell, and lifted up my ice packed skirts, sitting down on the cold wood. The wind blasted at the sides of the shanty, snow blowing in through the narrow cracks in the wood and tar paper.

When I was finished, I was about to get up, eager to breathe again and return to the warmth of the cabin, when the most peculiar feeling came across me. The skin on my scalp prickled and my instincts were telling me that something was so very wrong.

I breathed in deep to get a trail, but the smell of human waste was too overpowering. I coughed into my shoulder and through my watering eyes saw a shadow pass outside of the door.

I froze, trying to keep my teeth from chattering. I strained to hear if there was someone out there, but was only picking up the tireless wind and blowing snow.

Suddenly, the outhouse shook violently, as if something was shaking it and I feared that something was beneath me, trying to crawl up and out of the sewage. My heart danced with panic even after the shaking stopped.

After a few heavy moments passed and nothing else had happened, I took a step towards the door and put my eye to a small crack and peeked out.

A pale blue eye stared right back.

Iscreamed but had nowhere to go, trapped in the worst place possible. I waited with my breath in my throat, trying to figure out my next steps. I couldn’t stay in here—the outhouse walls would crumble with a single blow if the elements didn’t get me first. But to run to the safety of the cabin meant running past those blue eyes.

I decided to go for it. Waiting would kill me otherwise.

I pushed the door open into the blinding howl of white and started running down the tunnel as fast as I could. The snow beneath my feet was hard-packed and growing icier as the evening fell, and my boots slid out from under me. I pushed off of the walls and kept running, feeling like the thing was coming after me.

I ran until the cabin was almost in view.

I ran straight into a man.

I shrieked again as hard, cold hands grabbed my wrists and bent them back painfully, but my voice was lost to the wind.

I knew it was Hank just from the way he was holding on and from the bitter way he smelled. I raised my face to his and saw those grey eyes glaring down at me, the poisonous sneer of his lips, those raised, snaking scars.

“Why you running?” he growled at me, a small bit of spittle coming out of his lips and freezing in his long mustache. His face was so close I had to turn mine to the side.

I eyed him wildly. “There was someone…I saw the man again.”

His grip on my wrists grew tighter and he quickly yanked me toward the outhouse.

“No!” I cried out, trying to get out of his grasp. “I’m not going back there.”

He pushed me hard against the wall of snow, my back sinking into it, the ribbons of my bonnet coming loose. “You take me back there and tell me what you saw. You tell me everything or else.”

“Or else what?” I somehow found the nerve to say.

He pressed hard up against me, the smell of alcohol clouding the cold air. This was far more dangerous than Uncle Pat. I could handle getting smacked around. I couldn’t handle anything more than that. I couldn’t even think about it.

He let go of one of my hands and put his fingers along my cheek. His eyes looked dull, empty as they stared into mine. “I knew an Injun girl just like you once. She wasn’t as pretty as you, didn’t have these lips,” he said as his stiff fingers came to my mouth, “or such a svelte…form. I fucked her several times.” I gasped at his language, and he continued, a weird glaze coming over his eyes. “She didn’t want it but I had her screaming all the same. Screamed even more when I took my knife and scalped her at the end. She was right ugly then. Served her right for being what she was.”