Catherine

No visible frostbite, no fever, but she was shivering and sweating at the same time. Something was wrong, but we were still hours from shelter. We pushed on. The farther we got, the more I noticed how wrong the woods felt. There was no wind, not a single bird. Even the snowmelt streams were silent.

The trail twisted through a gully lined with black spruce, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching us from the trees, always just out of sight. Then Sarah started talking to herself. At first it was just mumbling. then whole conversations. Her voice would change mid-sentence, cadence, pitch, even accent.

The trail twisted through a gully lined with black spruce, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching us from the trees, always just out of sight. Then Sarah started talking to herself. At first it was just mumbling. then whole conversations. Her voice would change mid-sentence, cadence, pitch, even accent.

I heard her repeat a full conversation we'd had two weeks ago in Vermont, word for word. Then she said something I hadn't said out loud, something I'd only thought, in the tent back on the summit. I didn't mention it, not yet. We reached the Russell Pond shelter by late afternoon. It was a lean-to. Three wooden walls, open front, and a raised platform barely big enough for two sleeping pads.

I heard her repeat a full conversation we'd had two weeks ago in Vermont, word for word. Then she said something I hadn't said out loud, something I'd only thought, in the tent back on the summit. I didn't mention it, not yet. We reached the Russell Pond shelter by late afternoon. It was a lean-to. Three wooden walls, open front, and a raised platform barely big enough for two sleeping pads.

No one else around. No sign anyone had been there in weeks. We unpacked, built a fire, and boiled what little water we had left. That's when I noticed her shirt, lifted as she knelt by the fire. Scratches, not surface level. Deep ones. Three, maybe four long gouges across her ribs, angling down toward her stomach, still raw. "'What the hell is that?' I asked.

No one else around. No sign anyone had been there in weeks. We unpacked, built a fire, and boiled what little water we had left. That's when I noticed her shirt, lifted as she knelt by the fire. Scratches, not surface level. Deep ones. Three, maybe four long gouges across her ribs, angling down toward her stomach, still raw. "'What the hell is that?' I asked.

She looked down like she hadn't noticed, touched them lightly, didn't flinch. "'I... I think I scratched myself on a rock,' she said. "'Or branches. I don't know. It doesn't hurt.' but the skin around them was pale and shiny, like it was healing wrong. She didn't want to talk after that. Just crawled into her bag, rolled away from the fire, and passed out. I stayed up for a while.

She looked down like she hadn't noticed, touched them lightly, didn't flinch. "'I... I think I scratched myself on a rock,' she said. "'Or branches. I don't know. It doesn't hurt.' but the skin around them was pale and shiny, like it was healing wrong. She didn't want to talk after that. Just crawled into her bag, rolled away from the fire, and passed out. I stayed up for a while.

The fire crackled. The sky above was perfectly clear, stars sharp and bright, and that dead silence still pressed in around the trees. Then I heard it again. Footsteps. Slow, dragging, coming from the woods behind the shelter. Not boots, not hooves, bare feet on frozen earth. I grabbed the flare gun and held my breath. The steps circled the shelter once, then again, then a voice, Sarah's voice.

The fire crackled. The sky above was perfectly clear, stars sharp and bright, and that dead silence still pressed in around the trees. Then I heard it again. Footsteps. Slow, dragging, coming from the woods behind the shelter. Not boots, not hooves, bare feet on frozen earth. I grabbed the flare gun and held my breath. The steps circled the shelter once, then again, then a voice, Sarah's voice.

Come on, it's okay, we can go now. But she was asleep, right next to me. I turned to look at her, still bundled, still facing the wall. The voice came again, from the woods this time. Come on, it's okay. This time it wasn't just Sarah's voice. It was mine too. Layered. Speaking at the same time. Like it was practicing. I stayed still, trying to breathe silently. The fire crackled louder.

Come on, it's okay, we can go now. But she was asleep, right next to me. I turned to look at her, still bundled, still facing the wall. The voice came again, from the woods this time. Come on, it's okay. This time it wasn't just Sarah's voice. It was mine too. Layered. Speaking at the same time. Like it was practicing. I stayed still, trying to breathe silently. The fire crackled louder.

The footsteps stopped. Then something sniffed, long and wet, just behind the back wall of the shelter. And then, silence. I must have passed out at some point. When I woke up, Sarah was gone. The fire had gone out. Ashes cold. Her pack was still there. Boots too. I found her footprints in the snow leading away from the shelter, and another set next to them. Identical, but spaced wider. Heavier.

The footsteps stopped. Then something sniffed, long and wet, just behind the back wall of the shelter. And then, silence. I must have passed out at some point. When I woke up, Sarah was gone. The fire had gone out. Ashes cold. Her pack was still there. Boots too. I found her footprints in the snow leading away from the shelter, and another set next to them. Identical, but spaced wider. Heavier.

I followed them. Maybe a quarter mile into the trees I found her, standing barefoot in the snow, staring up at the canopy. Her eyes were rolled back, lips cracked and purple. She was whispering something. At first I thought it was just gibberish. Then I heard it, my name, over and over, in my voice. I called out to her. She turned her head slowly like it took effort, and smiled.

I followed them. Maybe a quarter mile into the trees I found her, standing barefoot in the snow, staring up at the canopy. Her eyes were rolled back, lips cracked and purple. She was whispering something. At first I thought it was just gibberish. Then I heard it, my name, over and over, in my voice. I called out to her. She turned her head slowly like it took effort, and smiled.

Something was off. Her jaw hung too low, like it was dislocated. Her skin was so pale I could see the blue veins spidering beneath it. Her fingernails were black at the tips. Then she lunged. I didn't think. I just fired the flare gun. It hit her shoulder and exploded in a burst of orange and red. She screamed, not in pain, but like something had been burned awake inside her.

Something was off. Her jaw hung too low, like it was dislocated. Her skin was so pale I could see the blue veins spidering beneath it. Her fingernails were black at the tips. Then she lunged. I didn't think. I just fired the flare gun. It hit her shoulder and exploded in a burst of orange and red. She screamed, not in pain, but like something had been burned awake inside her.

Her voice split, literally. The scream became two screams layered over each other, one hers, one deeper, lower, older. She dropped, convulsing in the snow. I dragged her back to the shelter, heart hammering, every nerve in my body screaming at me to run and not come back. She was quiet for hours. When she finally came to, her voice was hoarse. Her eyes were normal again.