Sweet pumpkin pie with whipped toppin’. Argh.
Chapter 3
To my luck, the pair hadn’t gotten far. The town was many among several strewn throughout this almost constant winter wonderland, but this place I called mine was the farthest out into the boonies. It didn’t border the woods so much as exist within it.
I had to question just where these two were headed and where my last shred of sanity had gone—forget my dignity, that had left the building two hours ago—following them at such a distance they remained barely within my sight, if I didn’t haul ass, but had yet to cotton on to being tailed. They were arguing too much, bickering amongst themselves too loudly, honestly, to take notice of their stalker. Man, those jerks were fast.
A very silly part of me started weaving tales as time passed and on and on they tromped and my half froze over butt followed. They really were Yetis and this was a human hunting expedition. It was a Yeti human snatching conspiracy. None of those women had died of exposure and been lost to animals ravaging their corpses. They’d been stolen away and taken deep into the forest to some cave or something hidden so well no human had ever found it. Then reality would intrude and I wanted to groan out loud. I felt like I was dying at this pace but was too damned stubborn to give up. I’d die trying to keep up, damn it.
Chapter 4
Something like two, four, six hours—god, I didn’t know anymore and my wristwatch had stopped working after its third or fourth fall with me into sloshy snow puddles lurking around these here fluffy mound surrounded parts—we’ll just say after too many hours I just didn’t care enough to count of this bologna because my lungs were burning and my body was on fire, I was dying. My calves burned, kneecaps numb from the cold even with my thick, lined snow pants on. I felt arthritic, pain and numbness, weakness from head to toe, simultaneously hounding me, like I was slowly locking up and going to jelly all at once.
More or less sluggishly shuffling through this thick white stuff, I blindly ambled on in between stopping for an incessant butt cramp that kept sneaking up on me. I was aiming in the general direction the thievin’ beastie boys had rushed up ahead of me to when I’d stopped too long for a pee break, then promptly stepped wrong slipping from between two fat conifers, my knee giving out on me, to eat crap and make a few nice butt imprints in the snow.
“Seriously hope I’m headed in the right direction...” I muttered under my breath. Maybe someone would just assume those wide cheek prints denting the snow were from a well-rounded bottomed bear with balance issues? I could dream.
“Ugh.” Dropping like a rock, I would have face planted into the snow bank to my left if I hadn’t leaned to the right. The second my shoulder hit that fluffy white cloud of cold, the rest of me following shortly after, it was like all those aches and pains I’d been putting off and trudging on through came rushing to the fore. “Ow.” Double, triple ow, it was more like.
The knit scarf snug to my face, folded in half to tuck into my hood, functioning like a gaiter, would only keep the cold slowly seeping in at bay for so long. I was freezing my butt off yet sweating profusely. A slowly melting half frozen Popsicle, I’d become.
A small, semi hysterical laugh left me when I went to move and my body said, “HELL NO.” “Argh. Nooo,” I mumbled, grumbling unintelligibly when several more attempts to get upright made me realize I’d overestimated my snow hiking capabilities—or more aptly, lack thereof. Trying one last time, I fell with a squishy plop. Argh. I was weaker than a kitten. The pack on my back felt like a heavy weight, bearing down on me, anchoring me to the ground.
The sudden shuffling behind me, the sound of conifers rustling and snow slumping off branches not far off sent my already pounding heart and burning lungs into overdrive. How long had I lain here sprawled out? I’d totally lost any sense of time a few hours ago. So now I was going to be part of that circle of life? The prey to some winter wonderland predator? What a morbid thought. This really wasn’t how I’d intended to spend my birthday. It really wasn’t.
If left with no other options, play dead, Pumpkin. That’s what Dad had always advised when it came to bears. He’d been an avid hunter, trying over all those years of my youth to get me to go with him. Though I wasn’t crazy about the idea of hunting animals, some of that other stuff, tracking, animal know how, dos and don’ts, would really come in handy right about now. Hell, Dad could really come in handy right this second. Sometimes I really missed that ornery bastard.
My head was pounding so hard there was a heavy pressure in my ears and a pinching pain along the back of my neck. I half expected my ears to start popping. Swallowing thickly, I closed my eyes, knowing looking at what approached would just make my tendency to panic worse, and gave it my all relaxing my aching body.
I nearly jumped as heavy steps crunched near, until they were right there and I could sense something looming over me. For a moment I wondered if my plan had worked, perhaps a little too well, and my as of yet perceived threat might walk right on top of or over me. A poke to my side, a sharp, jabbing stab, had me gritting my teeth against a grunted wince. Don’t jump, don’t move, not a sound. Lucky for me, as it were, when the growl-rumbling began over my head, my hood kept my face hidden.
What the hell was hanging out over my person that sounded like that? Another poke and more grumbling-growling. Heat at my back coming from the lookie-loos soaked in through my coat and thermal layers. More crunching sounded but the heat remained. Two beings now. One half of the grumble growlers, like they were speaking some kind of language, and quite loudly, had me dying for a peek. They sounded quite eerily like the Yeti burglars, if more guttural, their voices impossibly deeper. Human men did not grumble-growl speak, not in any way to be considered understandable. Unless they’d created their own weird language? I supposed it could come in handy during their robberies.
Or, I could stop trying to reason things out because in real life not everything makes damn sense. I’m in danger, this is not even close to the time for contemplation. This is the time to force my head towards my knees and start kissing that ass and prayin’ I was dead before I was dismembered.
Playing dead wasn’t necessarily a problem for me when I felt half dead, it was the not squinting into the sunlight streaming down as my pack was removed from my person, I was rolled to my back, and thick fingers began nudging me this way and that.
When a hand came over my frozen mug and my scarf was jerked down, exposing the lower half of my face, and a wide mitt pressed down onto my chest, the breath I’d been holding expelled from me.
A grumble to my right had the hand on me to my left lifting.
“Wish... sleep?” A deep grunt issued from my right. My shoulder was jerked, jostling me, sending me flopping about. “Wake, Babajagoshi.” The hand left me.
A series of growl grumbles and the words “wish” and “curse” mixed in had me mentally arching my eyebrows. It was a language, and they were talking about me, probably deciding what to do with me. I highly doubted this little expedition I’d talked myself into could get any weirder, or perilous. Was I to become the next missing mountain woman? I supposed I now knew what became of the others—at least the single one who’d gone missing.
The pair began to argue, grumble-growling and snarling right over me like I wasn’t lying there in the snow trying not to move, my nose starting to itch as it quickly grew numb, when they both shot up.
Oh, thank god, they’d agreed to abandon me. Relief filled me as they both hurried off. The only odd thing I found to that was that they sounded as if they were veering off in different directions. Divide and conquer? Did they assume I was dying and panic? I could only be so lucky.
I was just about to try and force these limbs to move when crunching steps and some kind of dragging sound headed right for me had me freezing on the spot. Damn, were they going to finish me off and bury me right here? Tie me to a tree? The possibilities, honestly, were endless. And I was putty in their hands in my current state. Damn me and my s
udden altruistic streak. I should have called the station and claimed to hear some strange disturbances and see suspicious acting costumed men near the old abandoned house down the way and kept my candy happy butt home.
I could be halfway through a good read, the stove going, cocoa in hand and a gut full of sugar right now. Ugh. I could be entertaining daydreams of actual Yeti men taking off with their chosen ones. Not... this.
A heavy thud to my left had me jumping.
Shit.
When nothing happened, hope filled me. Perhaps they hadn’t seen my slip?
A grunt far too close for my comfort sounded off near my head. More rumble speak issued from somewhere a bit far off, a ways above my prone form. The odds were not in my favor. As the rumble speaking grew louder, closer, I knew I wasn’t to be so lucky this night.
I felt frozen clean through lying here like this. My fingertips had long ago stopped pricking and just gone plain numb. If I wiggled them, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to tell I was.
Whatever lefty was doing to my left, there was a strange tugging sound and a heavy thud, bringing with it a pine-sappy scent. Combined with the one on my right doing some fast and furious work, all this led me to draw the conclusion lefty’d set a large piece of wood next to my lax body, and coupled with their belief I was a witch, might actually be trying to figure out how to tie my ass to a makeshift stake. The thought had me itching to jump up and run.
Thick hands grabbed me by the shoulders over my coat, another set gripping my pant legs mid-calf, above my snow boots, and I was lifted.
I wasn’t sure how long I could keep this ruse up, and like hell was I just going to let them lash me to a piece of wood to burn me to a crisp.
All set to freak out and panic scream, going down swinging, I was tensing up to move when I felt something thick and furry beneath me. And then something equally as thick and fluffy settled atop me. Hardness pressed into my sides. The pine scent was extremely strong, surrounding me. The thick hands that had been at my shoulders began tucking the weighted blanket, animal hide, I noted with a slight crack of a peek of my eyelids. Lefty’s face was so close I could make out glowing amber with sunflower yellow rimming almond shaped eyes. He kept squinting his poked eye like it pained him and he couldn’t keep it open long. The tissue surrounding the eye was looking irritated, almost pink and slightly puffed up.
Amber eyes smelled odd, like he rolled around in nature for funsies, a hint of pine, that freshly fallen snow smell, and a dash of dry, crunchy Fall leaves. Why he didn’t stink like he must have been sweating like a pig, I had no clue. Tromping around in that getup for hours, while probably keeping him nice and toasty, could not possibly be comfortable for such a prolonged period of time.
I spied him staring down at me curiously with his one good eye through that slit of a peek of mine. His head cocked as he watched me, a slight frown marring his features. Man, those were some awesome contacts. If I didn’t know better, I thought for what felt for the thousandth time, I’d think they were real.
When his hands came at my face, drawing the scarf laying loosely about my neck near my mouth and right up over my nose, I lost it. My hands shot up, trying to slap at his, and I tried to shake my head, but it was so damn hard to move.
This was it, he was going to do it. He meant to suffocate me and then drag me off on his makeshift cot thing, whatever this contraption was, and dump the body.
Oh god, I- “No!” I garbled out, flat out losing my cool.
“Shhh. S’kay, Yabbaggagi. Bauheg no hurt. Rek no hurt wishy bayagga. Sick. Cold. Shh.”
Stunned, wide-eyed, I could only lay there as he kept his thick fingers gently pressed into the scarf over my mouth, leaving my nose free. He wasn’t hurting me, he was trying to... calm me? His free hand reached out and he gave my hood covered head a rough pat. What the hell…?!
A grunt, followed by growling noises and crunching steps, had amber eyes putting his finger to his lips and then closing his eyes, motioning quickly and sharply for me to do the same, to stand and look to his approaching Yeti burgling accomplice with surprise.
“Wish sleep,” Baw-hog- Baw-heg? it kinda sounded like he’d pronounced his name, told the green-eyed Rek. “Take Rothy. Joansie say wish fix tricksy if be good. No curse. No bad happy wieners.”
Rek grunted and responded in their beast speak. I tensed as the sounds of him approaching grew loud. A hand went to my scarf and jerked it down, and then a thickly clawed finger pinched my nostrils. A choking gasp left me, sending me jerking up. My eyes popped open and my hands went to lift to flail but a wide arm slammed down on my chest, barring any movement. “Bauheg want wish? She sleep,” he said with meaning.
“Rek...” Bauheg murmured hesitantly.
“No. Don’t put me to sleep!” I squeaked. “The wish- I mean witch, doesn’t want to sleep.”
Rek flashed Bauheg a mouth full of fangs. “No sleep, no go.” He grunted, then rumbled out tersely, “Choose.”
Reluctantly, Bauheg pulled a small bottle from a pouch at his waist that blended in seamlessly with his fur and pulled the cork out with his exceptionally sharp teeth.
I struggled as much as I could as he drew near. Shit-shit-shit!
“No,” I garbled out, right as Rek lifted his arm, quick as you please, and his long fingers gripped my chin. The action forced my head up and my mouth wide open.
My arms flailed, legs kicking out. My hands grasped Rek’s wide palm, nails digging in until the green-eyed dick let out a grunt of pain. None of it mattered.
Bauheg dumped the contents down my gullet while Rek’s hand began kneading my throat so I was forced to swallow. Once the contents were emptied and the sickly sweet concoction was sloshing in my stomach, Bauheg assisted Rek in securing me to their drag sled.
Trying to gag that crap up, it wasn’t happening. I’ve been drugged, poisoned!
“Sleep. Cold. Make wish warm,” Rek commanded, turning to walk off.
A small sob of a noise left me. They’d drugged me to make it easier for them to take me wherever they would and I was helpless to do anything.
“No cry, Yabbabogi,” Bauheg crooned, crouching closer to me. “Bauheg helps little wish. No cry. Be okay’d.”
“I have a name. You should know who you’re kidnapping to murder. Mallory. Mallory Allegra Bute. Don’t pretend to be nice to me,” I blubbered, but I was already feeling the effects of the poison they’d concocted for an unwilling victim. Maybe this had been their plan all along and I’d fallen right into their deranged trap.
Everything slowed as a warm sensation washed over me, starting at my belly to spread.
“S’okay, Mally-boo.” In a strange, tender move, Bauheg dipped down and leaned in, pressing his face into my forehead in an odd nuzzle. His fur lined face came away painted with green when he pulled away. Not a peep came from me about it. If he meant what he said, he was the reason I was going to stay alive, not that Rek. Rek was arrogant. I wanted to kick the green-eyed jerk right in his snowballs on principle alone.
The sound of their loot bag rustling made me think Rek had picked it up. Then Bauheg walked around near my head and the two poles on either side of me were picked up. Before I could blink, Bauheg was dragging me on his travois, his drag sled, at a clipped pace. These guys must really work out. I’d be dying after lugging my ass two minutes.
On they went, toting me along. The longer and deeper we traveled into the forest, the harder that gunk they’d forced down my throat made it to keep my eyes open.
I’d lost the ability to beg for my freedom, mumbling gobbledygook until my words slurred, trailing off, and my lids were too heavy to hold open. I loved Halloween movies but never thought I’d end up center stage in a real life one! With this idea haunting me, everything sorta grew fuzzy, and not in a stare at the Yeti-burgle-kidnapper dragging you’s fluff covered buns when they stopped for a short break to check on their captive kinda thing.
Chapter 5
A loud noise woke me. It took me a few
to realize it was my own bear of a snore. I hadn’t fallen into a deep sleep like that ever. I had the drool trailing down the side of my face to attest to my Sleeping Beauty, bear gone hibernating slumber. The smell of smoke was thick in the air. That was the first thing to really shed some of the sludge muddling my mind. The second was the sudden jostling rattling my pinned frame as we came to a sudden stop.
There were noises, the sound of voices, and not just any voices, humans speaking English. They grew louder and louder, more stomping steps crunching the snow. One voice rose above the others.
“Bauheg not helping Rek no mores. Rek on own,” Bauheg grumbled softly to Rek, who’d been mutter-grumble-growling like he was pissed beside his companion for the entire portion of this head trip I’d been coherent. The green-eyed Yeti man was still bitching now. As if to double check I’d caught that, Bauheg turned to glance at me from over his shoulder. He had a weird look on his face—guilt and regret, maybe? Good! Let me free!
“Jo-jo-knee,” Rek snarled suddenly under his breath, spitting the odd moniker out. His fur shot up, standing on end in that rubbed a balloon all over him, electrified fashion. Nifty trick. If I lived to see tomorrow, I’d have to try and see if I couldn’t figure out how that was accomplished.
“And just where have you two overstuffed marmots snuck off to?” This Jo-jo-knee he’d referred to was a curvy brunette with generous red highlights in her hair. The bottom half of her thick locks were sporting the telltale hints of a previous dye and bleach that’d grown out, blue black that’d seen better days. Unlike most of the humans dressed as humans gathering, no Yeti burgling ensembles necessary for them, most sporting soft looking leather dresses and hides, this Jo-jo-knee was wearing snow gear, thick puff coat with crooked stitches going up one shoulder and down the side, leopard print snow pants, the ugliest beanie I’d ever seen tugged down low on her head, and fat, fur lined snow boots. Ruby red lipsticked lips pursed, her hands going to her hips, she raised a perfectly shaped brow at them.
Pumpkin Bride: Brides of the Hunt: A Brides of the Hunt Holiday Novel Page 3
