Until... | Book 3 | Until The End

by Hamill, Ike

  “Well, don’t sweat it. This is even easier. Let me get this thing up onto the trail and then you get on.”

  Alan navigated the snowmobile down to the trail, aligned it, and then powered it up and over the bank. After she got on, he took it slow. He didn’t have all that much confidence. They had bought the snowmobiles for the family, thinking that it would be a good way to get outside during the long winter months. Liz hated it immediately—only going on two trips before she began to politely decline invitations. Joe and Alan kept it up for a couple of winters. Eventually, Alan suspected that Joe wasn’t all that enthusiastic about snowmobiling either. Then, without really discussing it, they had just stopped going. Alan still serviced the snowmobiles each year, making sure they were ready at the same time that he put the boat away.

  He let off the gas and they slowed.

  “What’s wrong?” Amber yelled over the sound of the motor.

  “Nothing,” he said. He looked down at the gauges. Everything looked fine. There was something wrong, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. It was the same feeling he got whenever they went on vacation—like there was something he forgot to pack—but on vacation he could just find a store and pick up whatever was missing.

  It didn’t take long to reach the first place marked on his GPS.

  Alan found a wide part of the trail and pulled the snowmobile as far to the side as he could. He killed the engine.

  Even with the helmet off, it was too quiet. The woods absorbed all sounds.

  “What exactly are we looking for?” Amber asked.

  Alan went to the back of the snowmobile and began to unstrap the snowshoes.

  “I don’t know exactly,” he said. “We’re here based on a set of hunches, you know? The train tracks could be their mode of travel. This area is near what we’re guessing is their source. I looked into hibernation strategies. We could be looking for a den or a cave. Beavers, for example, don’t really hibernate. They stock up and hide out.”

  “So why did you stop here?”

  “Convergence,” Alan said. “We have train tracks, a body of water, and a ridge that could have caves.”

  Amber turned slowly. There was nothing to see, really.

  Alan compared his paper map to the GPS screen and then pointed towards the woods.

  “This way, I guess.”

  # # #

  “Wow,” Amber said. She was crouched down so she could see under the low pine boughs and across the water.

  “What do you think?”

  “It’s beautiful. It’s hard to believe that there could be pretty little lakes like this and nobody around to enjoy it. There are no houses or boats or anything.”

  “Do you feel anything? Like yesterday?” Alan asked.

  “Oh,” Amber said. She took a deep breath and let her eyes close.

  Alan tried to open himself up as well. He was nervous about the snowmobile and the car. He could almost feel Liz worrying about him. It was difficult to shut all that off and just feel what was around him.

  “No,” she said, standing up. “Nothing.”

  “Me neither. Let’s go to the next location.”

  He wanted to rush back to the snowmobile, but forced himself to go at a nice, even pace. That was one thing he hadn’t really considered—what if one of them tripped and had an accident? Trudging through the half-melted snow was hard enough. With a twisted ankle, it would be nearly impossible. Plus, he had to conserve his energy or he would be worn out before the end of the day.

  “I get why we’re on the train tracks and stopping near places that might have caves, but what is it about the water? Why did we hike down to that lake?” Amber asked.

  “I don’t know,” Alan said. “Just a feeling I have, I guess. Those things felt like they were connected to the natural world, and for me I guess I associate that with bodies of water.”

  Amber climbed onto the snowmobile and he started up the engine. It was tough to get the thing turned around. They both had to get off and pull the back end of the snowmobile before they got it pointed the right direction.

  Back at the car, Alan unfolded the map again.

  “Here’s our next stop. We’ll be able to hit two locations.”

  Amber nodded. They went to their separate vehicles and started them up. The brief trip in the car gave the snow on Alan’s pants just enough time to melt into his socks. Getting out of the car the second time, he began to realize that it was going to be a really long day.

  They improved the process on the second trip. They hadn’t seen anyone else, or heard any other snowmobiles, which made perfect sense as far as Alan was concerned. The trails that covered the most distance relied on the lakes being covered with ice, and there was hardly any left. In some of the places, the snow wasn’t even very deep. The season was too far gone for most people. Alan realized that he didn’t have to worry about blocking the trail, so when they got to their third location, he stopped right in the middle and they worked together to drag the back end of the snowmobile around to point it in the right direction.

  “My ankles are getting tired,” Amber said as they climbed to a place where a stream cut through a pass.

  “Me too,” Alan said. “Maybe one more trip and we take a break for lunch.”

  Amber nodded.

  They visited a spot where they could see the rock face of the side of a steep hill. Icicles hung down over shallow holes in the rocks. There didn’t look to be any caves deep enough to explore. Alan and Amber waited to see if they sensed anything—they didn’t.

  Back at the vehicles, Alan was already getting frustrated.

  “I’m wondering about this water idea,” he said. “Maybe we should just be focused on places that might have caves?”

  “Why not stick to your original plan?” Amber asked.

  “Because it was just a hunch. Isn’t one hunch just as good as another?”

  “I don’t know,” she said. “I like the idea of being methodical, even if the method is unproven.”

  “Yeah. Okay. We should see another road about a mile up. We take a right on that and we park at the next crossing.”

  “Got it,” Amber said. “Wait. What are these things? They’re not on your GPS.”

  She was pointing to a rectangle that was near the pond they had visited.

  “I don’t know—old markers maybe? You’re right though. They’re on the paper USGS maps, but not on the GPS. These maps are old. The GPS has brand new data.”

  “Okay,” Amber said. She went off to her car. Alan pulled around and led the way. Her question bothered him all the way to their next stop. She joined him at his car when he was still studying the map.

  “Your rectangles—there’s one not too far from this pond we’re going to look at. I think it would be worth taking a look.”

  Amber nodded.

  He got the snowmobile up onto the trail and they started off through the woods. Alan kept thinking about the rectangle. Before they reached the place he had marked on the GPS, he thought he had it figured out.

  “Right there,” he said, pointing.

  Amber pulled off her helmet and put on her hat.

  “Right where?”

  “See that gap in the trees? That’s a trail—probably for off-road vehicles or maybe ATVs or something?”

  “Okay?”

  “Look,” Alan said. He unfolded the map. “If that’s a trail then it leads right to your rectangle. I don’t know why I didn’t think of this before. That’s a building.”

  “Way out here?”

  “It’s probably a cabin or something. People call them ‘camps’ around here. Everyone has a camp on the lake somewhere. When they’re remote like this, sometimes they’re not for hanging around in the summer as much as they are used for, like, hunting lodges in the fall. They often don’t have insulation or heat, so that’s why there aren’t any snowmobile tracks going towards it.”

  “Okay. You still want to check it out?” Amber asked.

  “Yeah.
One, I want to make sure that I’m right. But, two, I wonder if maybe there’s a crawlspace underneath.”

  Amber’s eyes went wide as she finally grasped what he was saying.

  “I was thinking that they would all be together, but what if they dispersed out to different hiding places for the winter, you know?” Alan asked.

  “Yeah. Let’s be careful about this.”

  “Definitely.”

  # # #

  “It’s my fault. I should have checked the terrain. We’re going to be right on top of this thing before we can see it,” Alan said. They were already at the self-imposed maximum radius that they allowed. Any farther and they would be breaking the rule about how far away from the car they were allowed to get.

  “Let’s see the map,” Amber said.

  They went to the nearest tree so they could lean against it while Alan unfolded the map. He had the sites they were going to investigate circled in red.

  “Here’s a good one,” Alan said. “Two more stops from now, the place I marked is right next to a cabin. We just have to hike a hundred yards over a hill and we’ll be able to see it.”

  Amber closed her eyes.

  “Yeah. I think we should keep going to this one.”

  “No. It’s too far.”

  “Alan, hunches can be revised and so can plans.”

  “I hear you, but we set a limit so we wouldn’t make a bad decision based on…”

  Amber interrupted. “It was an arbitrary limit and it was a guideline. I want to make an exception and I want you to come with me.”

  Alan looked back in the direction of the snowmobile. Their tracks were getting sloppy—a sign that they were getting tired. It didn’t look far on the map, but there was no telling how rough the terrain would be. Walking in melting snow could drain the energy out of his legs in no time. Amber’s resolve was clear in her eyes. They had come this far and she intended on seeing it through.

  “Close your eyes,” she said.

  Alan took a breath and leaned against the tree for balance. The map crinkled as his arms relaxed. He thought about when they were in the hotel, after the wedding. They were fighting for their lives and they had made a promise to each other. Amber was going to find the cabin and she wanted him to come.

  Alan opened his eyes again.

  “Do you feel it? There’s something close, right?” she asked.

  “I don’t feel it, but I will come.”

  He folded the map again.

  Amber led the way. As they climbed the hill, the trees were getting closer on either side. It was less obvious that they were still on a path. Alan glanced behind them again to make sure that they would be able to find their way back. The tracks of their snowshoes would be obvious.

  “I think I see something,” Amber said. She was about a dozen paces ahead.

  “Stop,” Alan said. “Wait, okay?”

  He shed his gloves and fumbled around in his pocket until he found the satellite message device. He tapped out a quick message to Liz with their coordinates. “Going to check on a cabin. Will message again when we’re back.”

  With the device back in his pocket, he trudged up to stand next to Amber. It took him a second to see the building through the trees. The line of the roof was the giveaway. Alan tented his hands over his eyes to cut out the glare and he squinted at the place.

  “Looks abandoned,” Amber said.

  “Why do you…”

  “Broken window. Ready?”

  He nodded.

  She veered a little left and Alan to the right. They closed the distance to the cabin coming from slightly different angles and they didn’t say a word. At one point, Alan paused. He had a strange feeling about the place. Years before, he and his friend Robert had stumbled on a cabin like this in the woods. That cabin had been the home of strange rituals. Alan shook his head, banishing the memory. That place had nothing to do with this one. Entertaining that idea would only prevent him from seeing what was in front of him.

  Amber snapped her fingers, bringing Alan back to the present.

  She pointed. Creeping forward, he thought he understood what she was gesturing towards. Below one of the windows, there was a place where the snow didn’t quite reach the side of the building. There was a black hole there where he could see into the space under the cabin. They converged on a spot a few paces from the building.

  Alan leaned close to whisper, “I don’t think it’s abandoned. Looks like that window was broken by a tree branch—maybe recently.”

  “I feel like there’s something under there,” Amber said.

  Alan considered that. “I’m not sure if I do or not.”

  They stood, looking at the darkness of the crawlspace under the cabin. With the glare from the snow, it was impossible to see anything under there.

  “Shoot,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I just remembered what I forgot to bring—flashlights. There are some in the car, but I didn’t pack them on the…”

  Amber pulled a small black cylinder from her pocket and handed it to him. He clicked it on.

  She pulled another from her other pocket.

  “I don’t go anywhere without them,” she said. “I always have at least two sources of light on me.”

  “Perfect,” Alan said.

  They crunched forward through the soft snow.

  “It could be anything,” Alan said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I believe that you feel something is under there, but what if it’s a bear or something? People have instincts about predators—I fully believe that.”

  “Good point,” Amber said. She unzipped one jacket and the one underneath. Then she lifted a sweatshirt and revealed a belt pack. From that, she extracted a can. “Bear spray.”

  “You’re prepared,” he said.

  “I ran out of wasp spray,” she said.

  Amber unclipped her snowshoes and stepped into the snow. It wasn’t very deep compared to in the woods. The sunlight reflecting off the side of the building had melted most of it down. What was left was like big, wet, sugary crystals of snow that crunched under her feet. Alan took off his snowshoes as well and followed her, glancing at the flashlight to make sure it was on. She crouched down and tried to get a look.

  “It’s too bright out,” she whispered. “I can’t see anything under there.”

  “Just be careful,” he said as she crawled forward.

  Amber went right to the edge of the building, blocking the sunlight with her back so she could see. Alan watched as she swept her light from one side to the other.

  “I don’t see anything,” she said.

  “Wait,” Alan said. He was close enough that he could see that there was the faint glow of sunlight from the other side of the cabin. “Stay right there.”

  He backed up and trudged around towards the front of the cabin. The snow was deep near the porch, but he was able to stick to the front side of the building and jump down into the snow on the north side of the place. He found where the snow was lowest and pocketed the flashlight so he could begin digging. In a few seconds, he had cleared away enough space that he could lean down and look under. Amber was on the far side, pointing her light in his direction.

  “Together,” he said, gesturing with his light. They both aimed at the front of the place and then swept their lights slowly towards the back. Alan was thinking about the time in the hotel again. Back then, it had been impossible for them to see the creatures directly—they were too well camouflaged. But with lights at different angles, they were able to spot inconsistencies with the shadows.

  “Wait!” she said.

  Alan backed up his light a little. He didn’t see it until she jiggled her light. His shadow didn’t match hers. The underside of the cabin floor consisted of rough-cut beams supporting planks. The shadows should have been all straight lines. But there was one place where the angle of her light cast a shadow that was different from the one that his light cast. It didn’t ma
tch.

  “Spiders,” he said.

  “Where?”

  “No, I mean, I don’t see any.”

  Amber nodded.

  “Okay, watch out, I don’t know how far this stuff goes.”

  He saw her shaking the can of spray.

  “Wait!” he said. It was too late. She was already spraying it. Before he backed away, he thought he saw the shadow move.

  Sixteen: Amber

  The bear spray didn’t come out in a consistent jet, like she expected. There was also a fog of the spray and it clouded around her hand before it blew back in her face.

  Alan yelled, “Wait!”

  It was too late. Her finger was off the plunger and Amber realized that she couldn’t breathe. When she tried, her lungs shut down and forced all the air back out with a hoarse cough. The world was already spinning as her chest was racked with another cough. Amber fought for air.

  Something grabbed her foot and pulled.

  She kicked and thrashed, but it was dragging her backwards. Her hand tightened around the bear spray again and she tried to aim it down towards her feet.

  “No!” Alan yelled. This time she heard him before she released more spray. She let up and struggled to get her eyes open so she could see. It was Alan who was dragging her away from the cabin. He got her to sit up and slung her arm around his shoulders. Propping her up, they stumbled a few steps.

  Amber doubled over with coughing. As soon as she got a breath in, it burst back out. This time it was followed by retching and a line of mucous from her nose.

  “Open area,” he said. “You have to use that stuff in an open area. I should have thought of that.”

  He lowered her to the ground and then she heard pounding. A moment later, he was helping her back up.

  “This is cold, but try to rinse your eyes. I’ll get the snowshoes.”

  He guided her hand to the jagged edge of the ice and she found the cold water beneath the surface. It numbed her fingers immediately. When she raised a handful of water to her eyes, the relief was instantaneous. She wanted to plunge her face into the water and take away all the pain. She settled for scooping more water out with her hands to wash more of the burning away.

  “Can you breathe?” Alan asked. He was panting.