Page 63

Story: The Rewilding

“Well, let me know when you find them!”

With that the exchange was over. A curtain opening and closing almost in the same movement. Steph slowly stored the radio away in an inside pocket and zipped up Thomas’s jacket. She wasn’t even sure whether she would find the others. She wasn’t certain what she was doing. Her training had only been in following and documenting animals at her own pace, not tracking other people whilst desperation raged in both parties. Even so, she walked on.

At first Steph found it easier than expected. The small group had left numerous footprints in the saturated mud between the trees. Things got a little harder when the trees gave way to open space where long grass lessened the indentations in the ground. She paused for a while. The grass seemed to be broken in a couple of places; shallow grassy trenches where someone or something had been. The problem was, there were quite a few. Animals definitely passed through and some clearly had their preferred routes.

As she stood there, she suddenly realised how cold she was. She was uncomfortable. Water was finding ways to seep into crevasses in the jacket and she felt sweat cooling on her body.

She shone her torch at the grass again. Two of the routes seemed to have grass which curled over at the top slightly. She huffed rain away from her lips, dipped her head and took the route which seemed larger.

This proved to be, at the very least, not a disastrous choice. She was able to make it through the open space withoutencountering anything unsavoury. Even the rain felt like it was easing slightly – a good omen. She wasn’t sure she actually believed in omens, but in her current situation she was willing to use whatever placebo was necessary.

She climbed a small ridge leading to another treeline. She stopped. She shone her torch left and right. Nothing! She cursed under her breath. She walked along the tree line looking desperately for any sign of the footprints. The soil was soft and more exposed, no longer protected by grass and heath vegetation. Even so, she could see no prints. Well, no human prints. There were prints of two other animals: wild boar and, if she was not mistaken, badger.

Why had she come this way? Had she really thought that she would track them down? Did she really think that she was that skilled? No. No, that was unfair on herself. She had made her decision based on the assumption that she was doing what was right, not necessarily what was easy. Besides, she had presumed they wouldn’t have gotten very far, not with an injured person.

She shook her head and ploughed into the trees. Better onwards than static indecision.

The trees intensified the darkness once more. Out of curiosity she turned off her light and tried to continue walking. Something to shake things up. Her world became pitch darkness. People said that if you lost one sense, your others became heightened. She decided to test this idea and took a few tentative steps, felt her foot catch under a tree root and stumbled forward, barely preventing herself from falling. For a moment she just stood and listened into the night. Once again, she became acutely aware of how heavy her own breathing was. There were a lot of other noises. Were they all caused by the rain? It was logical to suggest the majority were. But all of them?

She decided that the only sense that was being heightened was her sense of fear. She turned the torch on again. No sooner hadshe turned it on, than she heard a stick’s snapping echo ring through the trees towards her.

She jerked the beam of light in the direction of the noise. Movement. The torch was not powerful enough to discern with any clarity the shape of the movement, but there was definitely something large advancing towards her. She stood still, becoming aware of the movement’s deep guttural breaths. Whywasshe stood still? Why weren’t her feet moving?

As if her limbs had finally caught up with the lag in her head, she turned and ran. It was difficult as she had to look down at where the torch shone in case she tripped over an errant root. She could hear leaves being brushed aside behind her, twigs snapping and the wet ground being pounded by something heavy. Running wasn’t even sensible, was it? There was nothing that she could outrun. Yet, what else could she do?

She leapt over a fallen tree, miraculously kept her footing and took a sharp left hoping agility might save her. Foolish. On the wet ground, her feet went completely from underneath her, and she fell with a sickening slap. Her hands glided through the soft forest floor. Cold wetness instantly breaching her khaki trousers.

Thousands of thoughts crossed her mind in the brief seconds that followed. Was she going to die? Howwouldshe die, exactly? Could she grab the knife and fight off the creature? What was chasing her?

All these thoughts, each equally short and therefore almost incoherent in her mind, flashed through. There was a flash of light and a loud bang. Before she had time to reach for the knife and at least roll over to face her attacker, it was on her. She felt its warm weight on her legs. One giant mass, crushing her limbs, its hot breath contrasting with the cold damp air. Another loud bang. Another. The breathing stopped.

THIRTY-FIVE

Steph tried to roll over. She couldn’t; her legs were trapped. The best she could do was turn her torso and try to look over her shoulder. Her torch had spilled from her hand when she fell so there was precious little light shining in her direction. Even so, she was sure she’d been right, it was a bear. It had to be, being that size.

Rushed footsteps came towards Steph. Two rough hands grabbed her under her arms, a torch hanging from the belt of the person so that all Steph could see were legs and boots. She was dragged out from underneath the dead weight atop her.

“Where the hell did you come from?”

She recognised the voice.

“I was following you! Where are the others?”

“Just over there,” Davey replied. Steph had no idea where he was pointing in the dark. She got to her feet and shone the torch on the bear. It was, now that she could see it up close, a huge grizzly. Blood dripped down its flank, matting the fur underneath.

“We were trying to keep ahead of this thing,” Davey said, brushing Steph off. “Anyway, we need to go. Goodness knows how the other animals will react to the gunshots.”

“Wouldn’t it scare them away?”

“You’d think! Who knows for how long though! I’ve never used my revolver before so it’s an unfamiliar sound to them.”

Davey turned and ushered for Steph to follow. She took one last look at the bear, ignored how close she’d come to death and pushed on.

They had not gone more than thirty or forty feet when Davey started coaxing two figures from their hiding place. In the torchlight Steph could see the tall frame of Calum beingsupported by the determined figure of Martina.

“Where’s Roger?” Steph asked.

“Dunno,” Davey replied. “Not with you?”