The Devil Behind Us

by S. C. Wilson

  The day is finally done

  Time to sleep my little one

  The man in the moon sits way up high

  Softly singing lullabies

  He sprinkles stardust on your head

  Sending sweet dreams to your bed

  No harm shall come upon you

  With Mama by your side

  So dance among the stars my child

  With angels as your guide

  You’ll wake with sunshine kisses

  Bluebirds and their songs

  For now sleep softly child

  Safe in Mama’s arms

  Of all the times she’d heard Abby sing, this was by far her best performance. Gooseflesh prickled her skin as Abby’s voice filled the small cabin. The love coming through in her voice was so pure and radiant it shook Jesse to her core.

  “That was beautiful.” Jesse cupped Gwen’s head, rubbing the soft peach fuzz with her thumb. “She really is something special, isn’t she?”

  Abby nodded and smiled. “She’s perfect,” she said. “Why don’t you lay down with us? You’ve got to be exhausted.”

  Jesse absolutely did want to lay down and stretch her body out beside Abby and Gwen, but the thought gave her a sharp tinge of guilt. She knew Abby wasn’t going to be happy with the news she would be leaving. She figured she might as well be blunt about it.

  “I can’t. I’m going to—” A shrill cry cut Jesse short. She got up and went to the cradle. “Now, what’s all the ruckus about?” she asked, leaning over Jim. She winced, then buried her nose in the crook of her elbow.

  “Oh, is he needing a change?” Abby asked.

  Jesse lowered her arm. “How can something so tiny put off such a smell?”

  Abby chuckled. “Let me finish with her and I’ll clean him up.”

  “Abs, I got this.” Jesse gently picked up the infant, more confident this time.

  “Do you know how?”

  Jesse’s brow furrowed. She wasn’t clueless. “Yes. I watched you two do it yesterday. It didn’t look that difficult.”

  She removed the dirty diaper, trying her best not to retch in front of Abby. She rung out a rag and cleaned up the mess, still marveling that such a sweet little thing could create such an ungodly stink.

  Once he was clean, she replaced the diaper and left him on the bed next to Abby before going to wash the soiled cloths.

  As she hung the clean diaper and rag in front of the fireplace to dry, Abby asked, “Can you come burp her so I can feed him?”

  Jesse held Gwen against her chest and paced the cabin, softly patting her on the back. Once she heard the tiny belch, she went to speak with Abby. She held Gwen in her arms as a protective shield.

  “Please don’t be mad,” Jesse said, “but I have to leave. I’m going to check on Toby.”

  Abby scowled. “Right now?”

  “Yes. Aponi is going to stay here with you. She’ll be more help to you than I will.”

  “Jesse, don’t think I don’t care about him, because I do. I just don’t think you should leave right now.” Abby tilted her head toward the door and pleaded with her eyes. “It’s freezing out there.”

  “There’s a break in the weather, so now’s my chance. I can’t just sit here. I have to go. He’s my brother. Please understand.”

  “Can you even find their village?”

  “Abs, I remember the way. Don’t fret about that. I have to go. He risked his life for us.”

  “I know he did, but what if something happens to you? What good would that do?”

  Jesse took a seat beside her. She did not have an answer that would satisfy anyone, even herself. She cradled Gwen in her arm, using her hand to support her head. Her other she placed on Abby’s leg. “I’ll be just fine,” she said. “Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  Abby didn’t say a word. She didn’t need to. Her look said it all.

  Jesse kissed Gwen and gently placed her in the cradle. She dressed in layers: long underwear, buckskin pants and shirt, and an outer covering of bearskin tanned fur.

  Abby watched, mostly in disbelieving silence, trying to think of any argument that would keep Jesse with her. “I don’t like this,” she eventually said. “Not one bit.”

  Jesse squeezed Abby’s shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’ll be fine. There’s not a cloud in the sky this morning.”

  “I don’t care. I still don’t like you going out there.”

  “I have to go. I just have to.”

  Abby followed her to the door, wanting nothing more than to grab her, hold her back, and fall to the floor with her arms wrapped around her legs if she had to. It was hard enough to breathe, let alone beg.

  “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” she said, squeezing Abby tightly before kissing her. She put on the tan hide hat and mittens and grabbed her rifle.

  “Please be careful. I need you to come back to me.”

  “I will. I promise.”

  Abby held onto Jesse in a long hug that neither wanted to end. The last time Jesse had promised her something would turn out all right she nearly died from a gunshot wound.

  Abby stood in the doorway, the icy cold whipping around her as Jesse walked away from the cabin. An uneasy feeling grew in the pit of her stomach when Jesse vanished amongst the trees. She stood staring into the dense and desolate woods until Aponi took her by the arm, closed the door, and gently pulled her closer to the fire.

  Jesse hiked along at a steady pace. As she made her way alongside the stream, she wondered if she might have worn too many layers. Already she could feel sweat trickling down her back. Heat seemed to be radiating from everywhere.

  She paused at the lake, looking out over the vast expanse. On the last journey to the village, she had needed to travel around it. Now it was frozen. Though she’d never tried it, walking across would save valuable time. She weighed the risks against the benefits. This whole endeavor had been born of urgency; she would not slow down.

  Mind made up, she planted her moccasin-booted feet on the ice and started across. With nothing but her own frosty breath to accompany her, Jesse felt more alone than ever on the silent, frozen ice. Somehow it felt even more isolating than living alone on a mountain. Maybe it was because she had just left a place holding so much life, so much promise.

  Jesse guessed it had been the better part of an hour before she set foot on land again. She continued up a steep incline, ignoring the burning ache in her legs as she powered herself to the top of a small peak.

  The distant sky looked ominous, roiling with colors wholly unnatural. The clouds seemed to melt, their darkness contaminating the clear sky below. Bad weather was coming. Fast.

  She searched for some kind of shelter. Anything would do. The only immediate option was a fallen tree, held at an angle by its root ball.

  What is it with me and trees?

  The wind increased, bringing tears to her eyes and stinging her cheeks. She managed to hunker down at the base of the tree just as the first flakes began to fly.

  Hopefully it blows over fast.

  She pulled her legs to her chest and rested her head on her knees. Hour after hour, the storm attacked the mountain. As the snow continued to fall, the drifts around her makeshift shelter engulfed her. She knew she was in for a long night.

  Jesse woke in total darkness, buried in the deep snow. She panicked and feverishly punched her fists through the drifts that had entombed her. Relief rode on the daylight that came pouring through the hole.

  After clawing her way out, scrambling on hands and knees like an animal, she leaned against the fallen tree to get her bearings. Overnight, the world around her had changed considerably. Everything was blanketed in several feet of snow. Nothing looked familiar.

  She pulled off her fur-covered mittens, tucked them under her arm, and blew warm air into her cupped hands. She rubbed them together to generate some heat, but any respite was dulled by a gnawing pain in her stomach.

  With prickly fingers,
she took a piece of jerky from her pouch and ripped it with her teeth. She opened her canteen to wash down the dry, stringy meat, only to discover the water inside had frozen solid. She scooped up a handful of snow and let it melt in her mouth.

  She needed to get to the village. Now.

  Jesse put her mittens back on and picked up her rifle. As she trudged through the deep snow, she tried to find something, anything at all familiar in the landscape. The further she went, the more confused she became. Nothing was recognizable.

  She stopped and turned around. Her tracks wove through the snowdrifts behind her, her short strides evident in the pits and ravines she left in the sparkling dust. She must have made a wrong turn along the way. She needed to retrace her steps.

  Before she could move, she was struck from behind. The beast gave no warning before it attacked, driving her face into the snow. At once her mouth and nose were filled with the soft powder. Her struggle against the oppressive weight only pushed her deeper.

  She flung her head side-to-side, gasping for breath. Snow stung her eyes and blurred her vision, but she could still see bits of fur being shredded from her coat. If not for the thick hides she wore, the hungry animal would already have sunk its fangs through to her flesh and beyond.

  Her right hand was pinned beneath her, but the soft snow gave way when she jerked her arm. She reached down to pull out her knife. In one awkward move, she plunged her knife blindly at the side of the animal. When it recoiled, she seized the opportunity and rolled out from underneath her attacker. With quick, deep thrusts of the blade she stabbed repeatedly, the creature’s light brown fur soaking a deep crimson as it collapsed.

  Breathless, she lay on her back, staring up at the azure sky, feeling as if her lungs would explode. She lay still until her galloping heart slowed to a trot, then wiped the cooling blood from her face with the back of her mitten.

  She pulled her knife from the lifeless mountain lion, stood, and wiped the blade on her pant leg, taking in the gory scene. She and the lion were in a patch of slushy red snow, trampled and splattered with blood. Her rifle, pouch of jerky, and canteen were strewn around the scene and dotted with blood.

  In a race against daylight, it was imperative she get moving. Her only regret was leaving the meat behind, but the waste could not be helped.

  When she moved to retrieve her provisions, the ground beneath her collapsed and she found herself falling, arms wind milling as she plunged into the dark abyss. Her body slammed into something hard and unforgiving before coming to rest at the bottom of the deep crevasse. Pain shot through her body and she cried out, clutching her side. Her breathing was hitched, each puff visible in the frosty air. She knew she had probably broken some ribs. Her right knee felt swollen and on fire.

  She ran her tongue lightly across a salty laceration on her lip and spat out the blood. Trying to move only hurt more. She cried out again, her voice repeating off the walls of the large ravine—mocking her. She looked around. Panic built into an almost crippling terror when she realized she no longer had her rifle.

  It must be laying up there, she thought, looking up at the opening in the rock above her.

  She lay in an immense cavern. The gravity of her situation sank in.

  No one will ever find me down here. Oh, Abby. I’m so sorry. Succumbing to the helplessness, her eyes fluttered shut, and the darkness swallowed her.

  Hours later she woke. High above her, through the opening in the cavern ceiling, glimmering lights dotted the night sky. She tried to roll over again, but this only caused more pain. She cradled her ribs with an arm. It was hard to take in a breath. Her teeth chattered. She was cold, alone, and scared.

  I’m going to die down here.

  She stayed motionless for what must have been hours, in too much pain to move or sleep, trying to think her way out of the mess she had gotten herself into.

  Nothing came to mind.

  It was hopeless.

  The night sky turned to day and back to night again. She was exhausted but too scared to sleep. If she closed her eyes, she may never open them again. She stared at the clouds floating across the stars until they faded, lost under the weight of lids too heavy to hold.

  She woke with a start, teeth chattering and ran her tongue across dry, cracked lips. She pulled off a mitten, her hand shaking as she scooped some snow into her mouth. Her stomach growled.

  How long has it been since I’ve eaten? She couldn’t remember. Everything was jumbled in her mind.

  Another day turned to night. She was weak, and growing weaker by the minute.

  When she noticed the cold chill had left her body, she wondered what had happened. It didn’t make sense as she knew she had to be freezing. Her mind was starting to play tricks on her, a sure sign she wasn’t going to make it much longer.

  Jesse had never been a quitter, but she didn’t know if she could take anymore. She was beyond exhausted, the pain too overwhelming. She let sleep take her.

  “Jesse, wake up.” It was Abby’s voice. “Jesse!”

  Her eyes snapped open.

  Relief flooded her veins. She found herself back at the cabin, in a warm bed, lying next to Abby.

  “Abs, I’m so sorry,” she said, holding onto her as if she hadn’t seen her in a lifetime. “You were right. I never should’ve gone.”

  “I’m just glad you came back. I missed you,” Abby said. She rolled on top of her and pressed her lips against Jesse’s.

  Jesse lost herself in the kiss. Somewhere, she heard someone speaking to her in the native language, the voice too muffled to make out. She ignored it.

  “I missed you too,” she said. “How long was I gone?”

  No response came from Abby as the cries of babies drifted from the cradle beside the bed.

  Jesse got up and felt as if her body almost floated towards them. Her heart lurched. The cradle was empty.

  The world tilted around her and she found herself back at the church. A feminine hand rested in the crook of her arm. She followed the slender arm up and found it attached to a beautiful young woman. Jesse recognized her, but from where, she couldn’t quite remember. She had looked deep into those blue eyes before.

  “Gwen?” she asked, uncertain.

  “Yes,” Gwen said, then kissed her on the cheek. “Are you ready?”

  It was as if Jesse had no control over her own feet. She floated again, this time leading Gwen down the aisle. A man stood next to the preacher at the front of the church. More familiar faces seated among the pews nodded up at her as they made their way past. Again, she heard the native language, chatter in the background.

  Strange to hear that at a wedding, she thought.

  Jesse turned back to Gwen, but she was gone like a wisp of smoke. The church began to spin, faster and faster, putting Jesse at the center of a tornado.

  Abruptly, she came to a stop, hovering over two men. One of them, a black haired man, was attending to the other man’s wounds.

  Jesse drifted slowly to the floor, standing within arms reach of them.

  “Excuse me. Sir?” she said.

  The man acted as if he didn’t hear her. She tried again.

  “Sir,” she said in a higher tone. Still, Jesse got no response and realized they could not hear her. She watched in silence as the man continued tending to his patient.

  Treatment finished, the wounded man looked up at his healer. “Thank you, Doc McGinnis,” he said.

  Jesse’s mind spun. She had no clue who the man was, but his name was familiar. She moved closer for a better look.

  No. It can’t be, she thought. Jim?

  Everything went dark.

  Next, Jesse found herself in an unfamiliar home. Whoever owned it had done well for themselves. Filling the space around her were the finest things anyone could imagine. On a settee nearby sat an older woman, crocheting. Although she looked familiar, Jesse again couldn’t say for sure who she was. She became aware of the native voices once more. She wasn’t sure how long they’d been
back, but they were growing clearer and more urgent now. She could almost make out the words. As she concentrated on listening, something brushed past her arm. A man made his way over to the woman, kissing her before taking a seat next to her. Jesse moved closer in an effort to make out their conversation.

  “The children are bringing their families over this evening for supper,” the woman said, her voice instantly and uncannily familiar.

  Jesse’s legs went weak. She whispered in disbelief. “Abs?”

  “Will be nice to see all of them,” the man replied, striking a match. Smoke from his pipe hovered between the couple.

  Abby moved closer to him and he put his arm around her. “We couldn’t have raised better children,” she said, her smile proud.

  “I’m just thankful you came to your senses and left that daft mountain man.”

  “Me too, Sam. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  It was Jesse’s worst nightmare come to life: that Abby would have chosen a life with Sam, that others would see her as obtuse because of her lifestyle. Her heart sank. This man was living the life she had wanted so desperately. It made her feel sick to her stomach.

  A faint glow to the room quickly built to such a bright white she had to cover her eyes with her arm. She pressed her eyes shut tightly, but could not keep it out.

  As the light faded, she slowly opened her eyes. The white glow had dissipated, and was replaced by the most beautiful hues of green she had ever seen. The lush tones morphed around her feet, transforming into blades of grass. It was no illusion. She could smell the sod and feel it against her toes. She looked up from the ground to find herself standing in front of the cabin. A lone figure sat on the old stump chair, whittling knife in hand.

  Jesse rubbed her eyes, blinking as she tried to focus. Who’s that on the porch? A gasp was all she could manage when the stranger’s face took shape. Unafraid, she raced toward the cabin, calling out for Frieda as she went. She leapt the porch steps as Frieda dropped the knife, stood, and reached out for her.