Knotweed (part 2)

Part 1: https://www.reddit.com/r/TalesFromTheCreeps/s/N3y1FZQrLr

The mules are keeping up good. The quickest way to Hagen peak is straight over the mountains. 
Gonna be six days total. 
I have four more days in case things go wrong.
The valley is safer, but I’d rather have time I don’t need than need time I don’t have. 

The ground grows darker, I look up, and a quilt of gray hides the sun. 
The air falls to a bitter cold. 
I’m not in the mood for freezing… 
My frosted shoulders shine in what light remains as I turn around. 
It takes a good minute or two but I find them. 
I take out an old scarf and wrap it around my neck, It smells faintly of sweat. 
Thin as hell, but it’s working pretty good. 

There’s a few old rags stuffed into my hat. 
Ears are useless when they’re frostbit. 
I have to steer the animals around a few pines. 
They fell in an X pattern, completely blocking our path. 

Every few seconds, a lonely snowflake falls to the ground. 

 I lose myself in thought and before I know it we’ve started climbing a mountain. I look down to make sure I’m not going crazy. 

My lord. 
I couldn’t even tell we hit an incline, this thing didn’t slow down a lick. I’m not surprised by any means but it’s definitely new. 

Hm…
 If I can avoid it i never shoot while riding. It’s dumb as hell and your chances of hitting anything are slim to none, and Slim’s usually bleeding out somewhere. 

On this horse though? It’s so stable I may as well be floating. I could deer hunt off of it. 

Hm.
As good as he is…
I can’t be attached. 
It’s an animal at the end of the day. 
Animals get hurt, break legs, get snake-bit. If it comes down to it–I’m using a bullet and not looking back. 

I’ll ride a mule for a few hours, both of them. They need to know what might happen in the worst case. 

Until then, I get down and throw the occasional piece of food to them, pet them a little, that sort of thing. They’re tethered right now, but I can’t ride that far on ropes, it’s too risky. 
God forbid one slides down a mountain. They need to follow me regardless. 

After a few hours of thinking my brain’s decided it’s had enough, my head’s empty now. I’m passing with the time.

A small hare quickly runs along the trail. I turn to the direction it came from, expecting to see a coyote. 

Nothing. 

In the distance, a thin blue line, snaking its way off the mountain. Figure it’s best to stop for a minute, I dismount, and get a drink of water. 
 The mules and horses do the same. Sitting on a small stone, I sharpen my knife and ensure the guns are in working order. 

I’ll let the animals roam for a short time, they need to acclimate–and eat as much as they can before the snow. 

While inspecting my colt, one of the mules sniffs my head, knocking my hat off. It starts to roll down the hill but I catch it in time. He’s still sniffing my hair, I turn towards him.

“Hey, easy boy. Go on now–get over there.” 
I give him a few pats for staying close and nudge him in the opposite direction. Despite what I said, I like that one. Definitely won’t name him but I sure as hell wont be careless about him either.

After thirty minutes I set off again. 

Hours blink away before I can miss them. 
The land is one endless picture of pines and dirt. The next one hundred feet barely change from the last. 

A pattern catches my eye.
Stones up ahead are organized in an old walkway, it doesn’t lead anywhere. I’d say it’s older than the town I came from. Let’s steer the horses around it, best not to disturb things…

The auburn floor is slowly painted into a dark hickory as we climb the mountain. 

The pines get smaller and smaller and before I know it there’s none left, like they’re being sucked back into the ground. Lonely shrubs barely protrude from the dirt. I stop the horse, and look at the view behind me. 

The blue sky bleeds into a blood red. 
Small talons of sunlight claw their way through the peaks–I squint. 

Mountains go on for miles beyond the horizon, trees clung to the sides–no larger than blades of grass. 
The green abruptly becomes a stone gray, before drifting into a solid white at their tops. 

The peak of a nearby mountain cuts a heavy wind in two. A flowing white sheet of snow is picked up and lifted away. 

 If I was a painting man, I’d set up shop here and never leave. 

The horse starts to buck up as we keep going. Petting him, I lean over to get a good look at his eyes. Hell… I was worried he didn’t want to go, damn thing’s mad I stopped. 
“Easy now boy–we’ve been riding all day.” 

Before I know it, night is draped over me. 
I find the most level spot I can and set up camp. 

Everything’s hitched up using some large pins. There’s a half frozen airtight of apricots,
shouldn’t take more than half an hour to heat up. My eyes look all around me, straining to see any light in the black. You’d think me and my fire were the only things on earth. 

I'm utterly surrounded by darkness. Stars stare down at me from the sky. My breath shatters the frigid air in rolling clouds of steam. 

Spoke to a Shoshone fella once, years ago. We were in the middle of a snowstorm, and I was freezing my ass off wearing a jacket and trousers. He had on this big cloak or something, and he looked right at home. 
Lord, I would love some of those clothes right now. I’d like to speak to him again–without a doubt the best tracker I’ve ever met.

I lay on my back, the fire on my right fighting tooth and nail with the freezing wasteland to my left. 
My gaze meets the endless night. 

Stars… 
I wonder what they are. 
It’s like somebody poked holes over a black hide laid over daylight. 
There’s probably an answer somewhere. 

The scrape of dirt sets my hair on end.

 I’m past the trees right now… 
Unless there’s a mountain goat next to me there shouldn’t be anything up here. 

Still as a corpse, cocked pistol on my chest, ready to fire. 
The animals aren’t making any noise, so I doubt it’s anything too crazy. 
I quiet my thoughts and listen.

I hear them starting to breathe heavier… 

Somebo-
Before I can do anything, sandpaper hands wrap around my neck. My windpipe is clamped shut. The thoughts in my head disappear with my breath. I attempt to scream but only a jagged wheeze escapes my throat. 

My legs kick and scrape in the dirt, attempting to find any sort of leverage.

Nothing. 

My mouth shoots open against my will, trying to find any air at all. Teeth ache as frigid air saws into them. My windpipe is about to break. 

I feel like my eyes are gonna pop out of my skull. They well up like i’m a mourning mother, tears fall and freeze on my cheeks.

A fuzzy darkness caresses the corners of my vision. 
It feels easier and easier to just stop fighting… 
God–not even a day out and I’m gonna die. Strangled to death by some good for nothing outlaw.
.
.
.
I don’t think his arms are that long…

I jam my thumb upwards with every ounce of strength in my body. Next, I pull, I don’t even know what for, but I pull as much as I can. I can’t hear or see that well, but I feel a warm paste leaking onto my fingers and face. 

He releases and I’m able to breathe again. My god–it may as well be the first breath I ever took. Sound slowly fades in. Everything’s muffled, I can barely hear him. 
He isn’t screaming at all. Lord, I hope I hit something important. 

“Agh! Blasted piece of—shit where in the hell- where-“

I raise up like a corpse, rubbing my neck. Hoarse coughs scrape from my throat, assaulting the frigid air. My eyes are so full of water I may as well be blind. I lean to my side and wipe them, rubbing my head. 

I look up to see where he is. 

He’s a few feet from me, holding his eyes. One’s popped completely and the other is hanging by a thread. 

An icy blade of wind slices across the mountain, gnawing into his exposed eye sockets. 

He’s screaming now, writhing against the ground a few feet away. 
Hellfire Mackenzie–do something.

If I could move worth a damn he’d be stone dead. Every limb might as well weigh a hundred pounds. 
There’s… 
What the hell’s on my lap?
I forgot about the pistol. 
There’ll be time to feel stupid later, I’m more thankful he didn’t find the damn thing.

Feeling returns to me. 
I stand up, fighting for balance. He lunges towards me, falling flat on his face. 
I stomp my boot on his neck, cocking the hammer.
“St- Stop—moving.”
The words burn as they leave my throat, causing me to cough and hack at the pain. 

He freezes, tensing every time his eye drags along frozen teeth of stone.
“Oka- agh! Okay- I’m still… I’m still miste- goddamn!”

“Can you hear me clearly?” 
“… yes… yes I-“
“How many more… are with you?” 
“N- nobody mister–it’s just me.” 
His head is sideways on the ground. I press the heel of my boot into his temple, adding weight with each second. 
“How—many?” 

The words barely leave his mouth. 

“There’s three of us!… Other two went on- on down the mountain—I stayed behind...” 

I don’t see anything. It’s darkness in all directions. 
Chances are if he wasn’t alone up here, they’d be helping him by now, yelling at the very least. Still, I’ll let him sit with his answer for a few minutes. People tend to change their story again after lying. 

“W- wha… agh god help me… what’re you doin?” 

“Hands behind your back. I'm taking you to town.” 

He isn’t going to town, but the last thing I need is him fighting for his life. 

“Oh cmon mister!… I’ll-“

A rusty pair of handcuffs dig into his wrists. 

Sitting by the fire, the downtime is used to regain energy. 
My throat feels like it’s on fire. 
An inhale of icy air causes another coughing fit. 

He’s not moving. 
Laying still as can be. 
Worried breaths shoot out of his mouth like gun smoke.

Pistol? 
No…
I’m on top of a mountain. 
That would be an invitation to every outlaw for miles. 
I look down.
… 

“I- I’m sorry… I’ve been down on my luck y’know and I- I fell in with the wrong people…

…

“Hey…”

…

“Hey… w- where’d ya go?”

…

“Right here partner.” 

“Oh–thank the lord!—I’s worried y-“

The Bowie knife goes clean through his throat. Dead in 30 seconds.
He had forty dollars in his pocket. 

Blessing in disguise…
I pocket the cash and keep looking.  

He had an old walker. 
Can’t use any of his ammo. 
Had a good enough coat, I’ll take it. 
Boots as well. 
Suspenders are alright. 

Every item has a faded splotch of crimson on it. The sewn bullet holes in the trousers makes me wonder how many bodies these clothes have jumped from. 

 I clean the blade and drag him fifty or so yards from my camp. 
Chances are coyotes are gonna want some, I don’t need them near the animals. 

The apricots near the fire are perfect now. 
I stab one with my knife, and eat it. Nearly choking, I spit it back up.  
Hellfire–my throat burns. 
I’ll eat them tomorrow…

I stomp the embers come morning. Light snow dusted my clothes throughout the night. The animals are fine.

Last night’s apricots served as my breakfast.
The cold stings, I cough, holding my neck.
It’s bearable now. 
I don’t know how he didn’t kill me. That’s… 
The second or third closest I’ve been to dying. If I would have done more surveying that wouldn’t have happened. 

Losing your edge Mackenzie?
No.

He’s definitely dead… 
But I’m gonna go check to be sure. 
God only knows how bad my luck can be. 

Looks like he–my god…
How in the hell did I not wake up at that? 
His body is- I’m not gonna think about it, he’s dead and that’s all that matters. 

Time to move. 

Ain’t a damn tree up here.
I’m enjoying my newfound visibility. All there is, is me, the animals, and the ground. There’s not much snow either, thankfully. 

It’s easy riding, the trail isn’t too steep at all. 
Every now and again a horse or mule will slip, but I’ll live.

 A behemoth of a cloud shrouds the whole peak in darkness. The occasional crunch of slate rock is the only break in the monotonous footsteps. 

We cut through a small ravine, I look above me for any loose stones. 
On the other side is a ridge, it makes for a good trail. Not too steep down either side of it as well. 

Exiting, we walk along it. 

To the left of me, I see something. 
About 20 yards down, is a massive… 
What the hell? 
I look to the trail ahead of me, and the ravine behind. 
I have time. 
The animals need some time to rest anyways. 
I grab the Henry and set off, its faded brass reflecting the landscape.  
The cold bullet is caught in my hand as I work the lever, and loaded back into the gun. 
Works like a dream, all these years later. 

The slate slips beneath my boots and I slide a few feet. 
I’m at the edge of the hole now. 
I peer inside, and immediately reel away.

“Goddamn! What- what in the hell!?” 
Gagging, I crawl backwards. 
I use my scarf to cover my face, what in Jesus’ name is in there? 

I peer over again… 
Holy hell. 
Is this a damn tar pit?
There’s a strange sludge at the bottom, black as night. It’s in these piles—frozen. 
Surrounding it is… 
I gag again. 
This is the most foul shit I’ve ever been around.
My god. 
I look closer. 
There’s small pellets, composed of dark hair, and fingernails… 
Human fingernails. 
Mountain air eats into my eyes as they widen. 

Time to leave. 

I don’t know what in the hell I’m looking at but I need to go now. 
As I climb, my foot slips on a patch of snow. 
I’m sliding towards the crater… 
“Oh hell–shit!” 
I pull out my knife, sinking it deep into the ground. 
It’s barely enough to keep me from sliding. 
My knife is the only thing allowing me to climb the loose rocks, every stab into the dirt just barely supporting my weight. 

I get to the top, near exhausted. 
The animals are still on the ridge, they haven’t moved at all. 
Goddamnit Mackenzie that was stupid. 

Saddling up, I holster the Henry, keeping it close by. 

Alright–unless the Virgin Mary herself comes down I’m ignoring it. I whistle for the horse and we set off again. 

The ridge slowly becomes a manageable incline. No trail to stick to. 
Should be this way for the rest of the trip, until we’re near the peak. 

The darkness fades, blazing sun shines blinding against the snow. 
We keep going. 
Before too long, steam rises from the ground, like hell itself is burning beneath the stones. 

It’s blinding, I turn around to gauge where I’m at. I can’t see any farther than twenty or thirty yards. Thick pockets of steam envelop the whole mountain. 
Damn sun. 

A faint buzzing catches my ear. I’m not even sure what direction it’s coming from, it’s just there. 

I turn my head to get a better liste-

“. . …mornin… . . .”

My back almost snaps in two I turn back around so fast. 
There’s nothing–only the ground.

I know for a goddamn fact I heard that. 
It’s only me for miles. 
What in the hell was that? 
I look all around for about 5 minutes and see nothing. The steam fades as quick as it arrived. 
The sky darkens. 
One flake falls onto the barrel of my gun. 
Then another. 
A humble gust of wind whips my scarf as white pinpricks dance on my shoulders. 

Snow’s starting to pick up a little, time to move. 

Holstering the pistol, I set off again. 
That was so strange, there was a weird… 
I don’t know. 
Like a clacking sound or something, I could just barely hear it. 
I don’t see anything around me. 

Looking at all the disappearing steam gives me a funny idea. 
There could be a spirit up here… 
I chuckle and keep riding. 

It was more than likely in my head, I’ve heard people say my name when I was trying to sleep before, so this is nothing new. 

Another thing, if some random bastard was up here the animals would definitely have a reaction. I look back at them, they’re doing fine. The mules need a little break so I stop where we are for a moment. 

They ain’t had a break in about two hours, I’d say. 

I look around me. 
The mountain is so desolate…
It’s just gray stone as far as I can see. 
I enjoy the views, but the sheer absence forms a strange melancholy on my heart. 
I’m truly alone up here. 
It’s so silent, nothing but the wind. I hand feed the mules a little and take a good look at them. 
They’re calm as can be. 
I’m always alone while hunting, to be fair. 
But still… every now and again, especially when I ride far out, it gets to me. 

I ease up a little. The horse is eager to continue so I saddle up and set off. 
Wind has died down a lot, I relax. 

Then, a dead stop, A cold wind cuts my eyes, I tilt my head down–hand holding my hat on. 

Biting air tears through the mountainside, no trees to protect me. The coats are keeping me warm but they’re not magic. This wind is like no other. 

There’s no howling, just a great groan of air. 
I bundle my face up in an old scarf–two old scarfs, and pull my hat on as tight as possible. I peer up through the razor thin gap in my vision. It’s not clear anymore… A wall of snow is barreling towards me. 

I brace. 

Blistering cold whittles the land down into a blinding white in under ten seconds. I can’t see more than two feet ahead of me. The wind is thunderous and absolute, whipping my scarf and clothes like a bedsheet in a tornado, it’s a miracle they’re staying on at all. 

The wind changes direction on a dime, I’m almost thrown from the horse. I pull hard on the saddle, trying to keep myself down. 

The wind isn’t just loud, it’s deafening. Mountain travel’s nothing new to me, but goddamn, this is without a doubt one of the strongest squalls I’ve ever been through. 

I hear the horse starting to whine. Lord above I hope their eyes don’t freeze, doing this on foot would be a death sentence. 

Mules… I gotta turn around and check on them. The second I shift my weight I almost fall down. Dammit they could be twenty yards behind me and I wouldn’t know it. 

I tug on the rope to make sure there’s resistance. 
They’re here. 

Peering up for a short second, snow pellets blast through the gap like a shotgun. Goddamn that hurt, and I can’t even wipe my eyes. 

The animals groan with annoyance. This is getting bad. We… God are we gonna have to stop here? 

I don’t even know where we can stop at, We have to be at least another few hours from the other side… bare minimum. 
It’s best to turn around, we’ll be moving with the wind (most of the time) and it’s not likely to travel down the entire mountain.

Angered breaths shoot from the horse's nose. 
 Alright you mean bastard, let’s head back down th–

Running. 
Rear of the horse. 

Mountain lion? 
No.

No there were–
Wait a minute… 
What in the hell was that? 
Dammit I can’t turn around right now I’ll get thrown off. 
Lead gusts of wind remind me to stay still, my freezing gloves pull hard on the saddle, I slip, but I don’t fall.

A thick dread flows in my veins.
My guns are loaded. 
I control my breathing. 
My god was that a bear? 
No… 
It couldn’t have been, but it was too damn heavy to be a mountain lion. 

I spur the horse, we need to go faster. I’m not turning around. 
I don’t even know where I’m going–I just don’t wanna be here with whatever the hell is tailing me. I don’t even know how many there ar–

My unwilling ears are forced to listen again. 
It shoots–straight forward–beating the already straining animals. 
Not a bear. 
Ain’t a single bear can run that goddamn fast. But it’s so heavy…
I peer through the gap in my vision. 
Maybe if I can see its tracks–
Nothing I can use. 
The ground is ruined.
May as well shoot the dirt with a shotgun and try to count the pellets.

We’re going up an incline, and the wind’s so bad I have to tense my entire body to stay upright. How the hell is it even walking let alone–

The sound burns back down the mountain, it must have cleared twenty
Yards in a second. 
The blisteringly fast stride cuts deep into the dirt as it slows, sliding far behind the horses. 

The footsteps cease. I hear a scrape of dirt, and a light rumble can be felt as it lands… 

Next to me. 

It’s beside me now, keeping perfect pace. 
Not too fast, not too slow. 

My face is swaddled in blanket after blanket to protect me from the cold. I can’t see anything.

The wind picks up but the… thing? Doesn’t. It doesn’t even slow down.

Right next to me…

My eyes strain at nothing. 
What the hell is going on?
If I even try to get a glimpse of it I’m falling ass over tea kettle.

Back muscles strain to stay upright.
Goddamn this wind. 

Just keep moving. 
Don’t think about it keep moving. 

…

It’s not even breathing…  

…

It’s in your head Mackenzie it’s okay. 

I take a deep breath in, and let it out. It helps, I can feel myself calm a little.

It’s fine—it’s in your-

“. . …mornin… .  .” 

A sickening nausea rattles my skull.   
Jesus–don’t lean over to puke whatever you do. 
I barely suppress the urge. 
It’s not a voice. 
It can’t be. 
It can’t be a voice.

I’m breathing–much to my detriment. 
The air inside me flees, leaving me to suffer. Surprised I ain’t shattered from how hard I’m shivering. 

I’m barely cold. 
In fact… 
I’m warm.
How is this thing so–

Just keep moving. 
Don’t think. 
Keep moving. 
Don’t speak. 
Don’t say a damn word. 

“.  …mornin... .  .” 
My heart is beating out of my chest. 
Fear of whatever’s beside me stab my mind. 
What in gods name…

Goddamnit Mackenzie do something.

We’re still moving. 

Huh? 
What’s going on with my- 
What the hell’s’ wrong with my coat. I fastened it tight as a knot. I don’t feel the wind picking up anymore, It’s violent as can be but it’s no reason for my coat to be moving. 

It’s trying to take it off… 

I don’t even think about it. I draw my revolver so damn fast I nearly sprain my wrist. The trigger is held and I thumb the hammer until all six shots are empty. 

“– — –“

A strong pressure nearly whips me from the horse. Dirt and snow blast my side. 
Goddamn that sound nearly made my ears bleed. 
What in god's name is this thing?

I hear a dense weight land on the opposite of me, the ground rattled as it jumped clear over me and the horse. 
It pauses, before resuming its stride. 
Each step is preceded by a long scrape along the ground. I hear it cut through the snow and into the dirt of the mountain. Gotta be about 10 yards out, but still right next to me. 

I barely manage to holster my gun, my hands are shaking like pennies on a railroad. 

We keep moving, I draw the shotgun and keep it on my lap. I’m so focused I can hear flakes melt as they land on me. If I so much as blink wrong I’m getting thrown from the horse. 
The wind picks up again, ever present. 
That gust caught it a little… 
I could hear it scraping the ground, albeit barely, to keep moving forward. 

The blizzard is still raging on, animals groaning. Terrified breaths escape my buried face. Puffs of hot steam punch the cold air as I exhale, sliced thin by the brim of my hat.

It’s not trying to fool me anymore… 
I hear a faint chattering sound, I don’t know how far away it is. It reminds me of a woodpecker or something… god where have I heard that before?
It’s still following me, it hasn’t moved any closer. 

I don’t know why. 
I’m here, it can kill me if it wants to.

The stress I feel… I’m debating shooting myself. 
I’ve been hunted by wolves, bear, people. 
Nothing has ever made me feel so helpless. 

The chattering returns. It starts out slowly, like the bang of a hammer into a railroad spike, but… I don’t know. There’s no reverberation, it’s dry and empty. 
No–it’s not a woodpecker, it’s like someone snapping their teeth shut–or, no… 
My brains gonna rip itself apart trying to figure out. I can’t imagine the organ making this god-awful noise. 

It gradually gets faster until it’s a single sustained vibration. 
Out of the noise comes a voice.

“.      .    .  .  .  . . . . . …….Two more the rest of you clear out……. . .  . .   .   .   .         .”

“.      .    .  .  .  . . . . . …hellfire get the bastard…….  . .  . .   .   .   .         .”   

I don’t know what it wants or what it’s doing. The idea of trying to speak back crosses my mind–I shut it down immediately. 
I don’t know why–but I can’t speak back. 
I can’t speak back.
I can’t speak back.
It’s engrained into me, it’d be like trying to breathe underwater. 

My eyes are snapped shut, and by god I’m not opening them. I know it’s watching me. Waiting for me to do… something.

I listen. 
“••  ••  ••”
What the hell? 
The noise makes my stomach churn. 
After that It- did it leave? 
No. 
It didn’t, it just stopped, letting me go forward. 
God I feel its eyes burning a hole into my back. 

If it even has eyes. 

I wait, and listen. 
Silence follows. 

My body festers with a crippling fear. 

It’s gone… I think. 
I can’t even turn my head, I’m utterly still. 

Just keep moving–just keep moving–just keep moving.

Hours of silence pass, by the time we break out of the squall it’s almost nightfall. I don’t know how far away I am but I’m not turning back around. Hagen peak isn’t much farther, I can keep going, and cut through the valley on my way back. That’ll completely bypass… 
Whatever the hell is up here. 

I don’t know what that was. What in the hell kind of animal–
No. 
Don’t think about it. 
It’s up there and that’s all you need to know.
There’s a job that needs to be done. Eight hundred dollars Mackenzie… 
Eight hundred dollars. 

Looking forward, it’s getting harder and harder to see. Leaning back, I take a small lantern out of the worn satchel, looping it around the horses neck. The glow helps only for another ten or so feet, but it’s better than nothing.  

It’s so quiet up here.
There’s nothing. 
No sound at all. 
All that can be heard is the occasional gust of wind and the screeching of my rusty lantern as it swings side to side. 

The mules whine, they’re exhausted. 
We’ll take a small break here. 
Hopping off the horse, I feel like I’m gonna fall through the ground. 
Goddamnit this is so stupid… 

I walk to them, trying my best to be quiet–like it would even matter. I’m only a few feet from the horse, but my heart is beating like no other. The lantern is with me, its metal handle is so cold it can be felt straight through my leather gloves.

The entire mountain has this dark maroon color over it, I can barely see at all. Stones crunch beneath my feet. 

My breathing picks up, every shifting of stones beneath their hooves sets my hairs on end. The horse sneezes and I shoot around like someone just cocked a gun. 

I keep going. 
I’m at the mules now. 
…
Huh?
I’m confused, but… 
I can’t put my finger on it. 
My eyes dart to the horse, than back to the mules.
What the hell?
There’s no way… 
They ain’t even scared. 
I mean–hold on. 
They didn’t even try to run when that thing was beside me. 
They didn’t give a shit at all… 
God… it could be right behin–

That’s as far I get into the thought before sprinting back to the horse. 
I hop on and keep riding forward at damn near full tilt. 

We crest the mountain, light snow starts to fall, small flakes shining before the lantern. Below me, I can hear wind howling through the pines. 

I can see the valley now, everything’s clear. There’s about eight inches of snow on the ground, but I can see. 
The other side of the mountain is crossed before twilight reaches me.

“Come on now, let’s go.” 
I steer the horse downward–
Oh shit! 
Leather stretches as I pull the reins.
“Easy there boy–easy!” 
Dirt and rock scrape beneath its hooves. I dismount and peer in front of us with the lantern. 
My god that was a sheer drop off, I didn’t even see it… 
Okay, no riding. 
Actually—oh Jesus, that’s gonna be bad. 
I can’t lead them either, not yet at least… 
I’m gonna have to go on foot–find a trail they can walk on–and then come back. 

Lord watch over me. 

Every gun is loaded, I check five times and then two more after that. I probably weigh a good twenty extra pounds. 
I have plenty of matches on me, and timber with the mule. I’ll start a small fire so they don’t freeze to death. Should be good for about an hour or so. 

I’m done if I slide. The hatchet is with me. Every time I slip, I swing it backwards, biting deep into the frozen ground. 

This is steep, but the animals can handle it. 
The mules especially. 
My memory flashes to the mule who knocked my hat off. 
A grin starts to form. 
Hellfire Mackenzie, what are you eight years old? 
It’s a damn mule. 
Keep going. 

Before too long it levels off into a fairly stable trail.
A faint noise catches my hearing… 
I dive forward, scraping my cheek on frozen ground. My hat falls off and I barely manage to catch it. 

I don’t see it, but a rock just slipped loose. Damn thing would have split me in two… 
It tumbles past me, flying straight off the mountain. Below me, I hear it explode against a pine. The echo travels up and over the mountain. 

I capture my breath again and keep moving. 
Through the darkness I can see… 
Oh my god. 
My hands nearly threw themselves up in praise. 
 The gaping jaw of pines has never looked more welcoming to me. 
The whole walk only took about thirty minutes. 
I get back to the animals and they’re all fine. The fire is barely more than embers, but they’re warm. 

I start a larger fire before nightfall. 
Let’s see what food the suits packed for me. 
I find canned peaches and nearly pass out. My god, there’ve been days where I’d give eight hundred for a can of peaches. I heat them up by the fire. This is the closest I’ll ever be to fine dining and I’m just fine with that.  

I toss out some feed for the animals. Before lying down, they’re inspected and cleaned (as good as I can do).
Given the blizzard earlier, I think it’s smart to put some more layers on. 
I look through my supplies, finding some heavy duty bison chaps to go over my trousers. 
May as well break in the coat while I’m at it as well. 
They’re well made. 
Enough to keep me alive. 

Damn. 
I ain’t even got the sleeping bag out yet. 
I rummage through the satchel. 
There’s a few cleaning kits for the guns, ammo, air tights, a brand new knife. 
And—a cross.
Useless to me I’m afraid.
Not cause i don’t have a spirit, just that it’s definitely got a front row seat in hell. 

I chuckle, and my eyes nearly pop out of my head when I find the sleeping bag. 
Holy shit… 
This thing could keep me warm in a block of ice. 
It’s massive too, and remarkably well made. 
Stiff as a board, but I’m not complaining at all. 

Crackling fire illuminates the animals, they’re okay. The light only reaches about ten foot up the trees before bleeding into the shadows. I can’t see their tops. 

I’m exhausted… 
My eyes start to fall shut. 
Memories of its voice seep into my ears. 
Damnit. 

Time to get up. 

The next hour is spent looking equipment over. Cleaning guns, counting ammunition, sharpening my knife, hell I’m counting the hairs on my arm at this point. 

Every single thing is in order, and exactly where I need it. 
The panic falls away, slightly. 
Just enough for me to relax–exactly as it should be. 
Everything’s hitched up and I take a seat by the fire. Stars aren’t visible tonight. Snow cakes every pine branch, completely blocking the sky. Surprisingly, there’s next to no snowfall on the ground itself. 

No light exists besides the fire. Jagged orange blades cut through the gaps in trees, stretching out before disappearing into absolute darkness. 

It’s only me. 

I’m exhausted, I had to tense my body for half the damn day. 

What in god's name is up there? 

I know next to nothing about Indian stories, but that’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard of before. 
There’s one who imitates people I think… 
Maybe it’s two? 
God I don’t know. 
I need to stop thinking about it. 
Just because that’s above me doesn’t mean men with guns aren’t below me. 
I need to sleep. 

I lay down, bundling up in a thick sleeping bag. 
The fire spits and crackles at me. 

It takes a while to settle down. My breathing’s steady but I’m ready to flee at the drop of a hat. 

Slowly though, everything calms down.

I can only be so scared for so long. 

Eventually the wind returns, soothing me. The warm fire helps as well. 

I pull myself up completely inside the sleeping bag, shotgun close by. I can’t see anything and that’s how I want it. The last thing I need is frostbite. My eyelids fall shut like a heavy curtain. I’m starting to doze off… 

I hear twigs break, not far from my camp. 
Oh god, please don’t be…  

No. 

No it’s not. 
These are regular people. 

Faint whispers swim in the night. 
“I think he’s sleepin.” 
“Maybe—use a knife–don’t know if he’s alone.” 
“Gladly…”

Dammit.

The horses breathe heavier. They see them, and whoever it is sees me–my fire at the very least. 

The crunch of twigs and needles can barely be heard above the crackling.

 I think… 

God—I can’t see either of them. If I so much as move too quick they’ll fill me full of holes. 

I’m stuck right here. 

My shotgun is loaded…

I have an idea, a horrible idea, probably the worst idea I’ve ever had, but it’s the closest I’ve got to a ‘plan’ in this situation. I think they’re walking towards me right now. From what I can remember, there’s a slight decline.

So… 

I slowly position my sawn off as best as I can. However cold it was doesn’t matter anymore. Sweat beads from my forehead and into my eyes, stinging me awake. I breathe through my nose and out of my mouth to stay calm, the anticipation stabs my skin with razor sharp panic.

I pull the trigger. 

Before I can regret my decision my hearing is thrown into a deep ringing. The pressure inside the sleeping bag rips to an unbearable level upon firing. A flash of heat ravages my legs, if it weren’t for the thick clothes I have on they would have been charred. A suffocating smoke fills the bag, panicking I struggle to breathe, choking myself. It smells like a charred corpse. Thick smoke stings my eyes like burning salt. 

I crawl out of it like I was birthed from hell. Smoke clings to my clothes, burns scar my pants. Everything apart from my hair is stained black with gunpowder smoke. I can’t even run, I’m crawling and coughing like a dying animal. 

 Shots rip everywhere in my direction, pine needles and dirt kick up around me. I pick a direction and fall towards it, doing my best to stay upright. My vision comes back just in time. I fall behind a pine tree, narrowly missing getting shot. I can barely breathe at all, but I’m breathing. The deafening ring in my ears slowly dies. 

The pine tree I’m behind isn’t doing me many favors.

“Come on out you cowardly son of a bitch!”  

I have a revolver in my left hand, ready to ditch the sawn off at a moment’s notice. 

“Oh… oh god—Tobias!?”
I think he’s turned around now–I heard some dirt scraping. 

I slowly peer around the tree. I got one of them, thank the lord. I hit him dead in the chest. 

The other is crying, shaking his dead friends hand.
“Come on! Get up man it- it’s not that bad–come on now… get up—please!?”

He ain’t getting up.

Revolver level to his head, a calm breath is let out of my mouth. 
I slowly pull the tri-

My aim breaks as I shoot behind the pine tree. 

What the hell happened? 
He just fell flat on his face. 

I peer back around to see his partner's body being dragged deeper into the forest, head jumping as it hits stones. 

He falls, scooting backwards. 

“Wh- what in Jesus’ name!?” 

“.        .     .   .  .  .  . . . . …..I think he’s sleepin……. . . . .  .   .   .     .        .         .”

My heart sinks like a bullet in a pond.
The man’s back is turned to me.
Goddamnit shoot him Mackenzie. 
No matter how much I plead with myself my body isn’t moving, may as well be encased in bedrock.

He leans forward, unsure if this is real.

“Who… Tobias? Is tha-“ 

The frigid night air is cut by a blur of living violence. His remains are sewn into the dirt in a blinding mist of gore–trees stained a deep red, blood crying through cracks in the bark. 

Separate from his skull, his flayed face stares at me with empty eye sockets, slowly sliding down the length of the tree bark, leaving a glistening trail of crimson. 

 The sound of–
Whatever hit him. 
Echoed throughout the mountain like a gunshot. 

Before his soul could get to hell what remains is savagely drug into the darkness. A low croaking sound emerges, followed by a hiss of venting steam. Flakes fall from branches as a dense clicking vibrates the air.

“•  • •”

Silence. 

I can’t think, I run to the animals, hastily tying them together. Small notches are put in the rope so they can break off if it gets snagged on a tree.

They were half asleep, wholly unconcerned with the situation. 

Horse hooves burn against the mountainside as we flee. The light behind me slowly fading into nothing as I descend into the pitch black mountainside. 

Behind me, the echoes of a dead man.

“.     .     .     .  .  .  .  .  . . . . . . . ………hhhhctibafonosyldrawocuoytuono emoccccc……… . .  .  .   .   .      .      .   .  .  .  . .   ……ccccome on out you cowardly son of a bitchhhh…… .   .    .     .      .      .”

The voice rips through the air before burrowing inside of my ears like a barbed centipede. 
 My fingernails dig deep, shearing skin off of my scalp as I fight the urge to scream.

The worn leather of the saddle cries as I hug it like my mother. 

Trees rush by me like rain in a thunderstorm. Branches tear at my clothes and scrape the skin underneath. 

Pine needles kiss my face and whip my eyes. I can’t feel any of it. If I had to cut off my leg to get out of here I would. 

“•      •       •      •      •      •” 

No voice emerges. Even if it did I couldn’t hear it. Each sound is blunt and dense. It’s like I’m hearing it underwater. 

We’re going so fast down the mountain that the trees vanish once we’re out. 

One second I’m being torn to shreds, the next is the calming thud of hooves against grass. 

I rode face down for another 30 minutes. This horse's heartbeat can be felt through the damn saddle. God, I can’t even imagine having to deal with someone riding one of these… 

The choking smog in my mind barely clears. 

Okay.
It’s okay, breathe. 
I regain myself, and listen behind me.
I think the mules are still attached. It’d be a miracle, but dammit I think I’ve earned one. 

Against every instinct I have I slow the horse down. It begrudgingly stops its sprint, trotting forward. 

I turn around, I really shouldn’t, but I do. 
My eyes might be playing tricks on me. But in the trees, I can see… 
Something.
 It’s too dark to tell but—it’s there. 
Still as the ground. 
It’s pitch black out but I know it sees me plain as day. 
God I hope my eyes are lying.

I turn the horse back around and keep moving. 

Just keep moving, all you gotta do is keep moving… 
The exhaustion hits me all at once. 
My head must weigh four hundred pounds. 

My eyelids fall shut against my will. 
I barely open them. 
I’m about to pass out, my body is beyond exhausted. 

There’s a small rope I can use. 
I tie an awful harness and lay on the saddle. 
Somebody could pull me off without much effort, but I’ll stay on while sleeping. 
Hopefully.
Before I can think anymore I fall straight forward, thoughts blown out like a candle.