Survival, a YA Paranormal Romance (The Guardians of Vesturon Series, Book #1)

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Survival, a YA Paranormal Romance (The Guardians of Vesturon Series, Book #1) Page 5

by A.M. Hargrove


  He put on his camo pants and made sure his holster was in place. Next came his jacket, then a black hat pulled down low on his head, and finally, his pack. Darryl made sure his water bottles were full, slung his crossbow over his shoulder, and took off up the mountain.

  He was feeling a little down because he had built up his hopes for those good looking girls he saw back in town. He figured he would have to put that on hold for the time being and focus on the woods. With any luck, he would find something that interested him. He was getting itchy for a good hunt, and he knew this time of year could put a real damper on things. He’d just have to be patient.

  If things got too bad, he could always go chase after a bear or something. Animals could be fun to hunt, but they had an uncanny knack of knowing their end was near. That was one of the reasons Darryl liked to hunt young women; he simply liked to hear them plead for their survival.

  Darryl made his way over to the Smokemont Campground. He checked things out there to see if any campers had shown up, but no such luck. From there, he decided to take the Hughes Ridge Trail up to where it intersected the Appalachian Trail. He figured if he was to have any luck, it would be on the AT. People hiked that trail all the time, and it was so popular that most folks felt perfectly safe there even if they were alone. There were rustic lean-to shelters scattered along the AT, and this time of year, he had a good chance of running into a lone backpacker up there. This was a good thing for Darryl.

  He could feel his excitement mounting with every step that took him closer to his goal. He didn’t pay much attention to his surroundings but had his ears tuned in for any kind of sound that would indicate he wasn’t alone. He eventually made it up to the shelter at Peck’s Corner and was not to be awarded with any kind of prize, as the shelter was empty.

  His anger started to surface. He had built his hopes up for this, and now he was going to have to settle for a good night’s sleep—that is if he could calm his anger enough to even go to sleep. He finally willed himself to calm down enough to make something to eat and bed down for the night.

  Darryl awoke with a start. The sun was just beginning to lighten the sky. At first, he couldn’t remember where he was, and then, it all came to him. His mood shifted back to excitement as he had a new day of hunting to look forward to. He fixed some breakfast, packed up and headed out. He decided to head toward I-40 to see what was going on in that direction. He ended up staying on the Appalachian Trail for several weeks. The weather had turned fairly cold, and he could tell winter would be settling in for good. He knew it must have been getting close to the Christmas season because that’s when he would be out here and not pass a single person. He looked at the date on his watch, and sure enough, it was December 21. He decided to turn around and head back in the direction of Mt. LeConte.

  It took him a few days to get back to that vicinity. He got to Charlie’s Bunion, and it was completely deserted. He thought that maybe he’d sit there for a spell. It was still early, and he was hoping that maybe there would be some activity here. Charlie’s Bunion was a popular place, and you could get there on a day hike from the parking lot at Newfound Gap. Most folks might not get up there until noon. After several hours of waiting, his patience started wearing thin, so he decided to move on.

  He made a decision to head straight up to Mt. LeConte. He decided that he would make camp there and use it as a base. He felt confident that eventually someone would come up there. If that someone looked like they would be good “game” for the hunt, he would go for it. If not, he would just wait for the right opportunity. It wasn’t like he had to be on a schedule. This was his time, and he would use it as he saw fit.

  A couple of days had passed, and Darryl remained camped out up there waiting for the perfect opportunity. He would soon be rewarded for his patience.

  * * * * *

  It was getting close to noon the next day when Darryl made a circuit of some of the nearby trails. He was out scouting the area when he heard the snapping of twigs and the rustling of leaves. He made his way into the brush and was rewarded with a fabulous sight. There, in all her glory, was an attractive young woman out on the trail—it was the same girl he’d seen back in Sylva. She had deep red hair, and was a real beauty. She was one of the two girls he’d been tailing that had headed to the police station that day. This was going to be an extra special hunt. She was carrying a large pack, indicating she intended to be here for a night or two. She seemed to be at ease with her surroundings, but best of all, she had absolutely no idea she was being watched.

  As Darryl watched her pass from his position in the rhododendron thicket, he began to feel an adrenaline surge. His heart rate increased, and he made himself concentrate on controlling his breathing. He didn’t want to give himself away…not yet anyway. He needed to track her to assure himself that she was truly alone. He would find out soon if the hunt would be on.

  Darryl followed the young woman for several miles. She appeared to be deep within her thoughts, as she never even suspected she wasn’t alone. He decided he would circle around so that he could approach her from ahead. He always liked his prey to see him and get a good look at him before he struck. One of his biggest thrills was to see the initial fear in their eyes when they realized they were in danger.

  The best part though was when they begged. He loved to hear them beg.

  Chapter 8

  I left home early on the morning of Christmas Eve and headed toward the Great Smoky Mountain National Park. After going through Cherokee, North Carolina, I drove directly to Newfound Gap. I marveled at the beauty of this place as I drove. I will never get tired of these views, I thought. Winter was my favorite time up here. You could see for miles and miles without any obstruction from the foliage on the trees. Yeah, it could get downright chilly at night, but with the right gear, you could be very comfortable.

  I parked my car and had to laugh. I was the only car in the entire parking lot. In the summer and fall months, you couldn’t get close to this place for all the crowds. I was really going to enjoy this! I double-checked to make sure I had my camera with me.

  I hopped out of the car, put all my gear on, grabbed my hiking poles and took off straight up the Appalachian Trail. I knew I had passed the time where I would run into any through hikers, the ones that hike the entire 2000 plus miles from Georgia to Maine, or vice versa. They were usually gone by the end of November. It takes about six months to hike the entire trail and hikers usually try to avoid the winter months for obvious reasons. Someday, I wanted to be able to make that claim of being a through hiker. That was a goal of mine.

  Oh, how I loved the solitude out here. I was totally in my element. This was going to be a much better holiday for me this year.

  I was always in awe of all the wildlife. I started thinking about everything Dad and I had seen out here. My favorite was always the black bear. Some people were scared to death of them, but they were only dangerous in extremely rare occasions. My dad taught me to never approach a cub if I wanted to live! I loved seeing the little red fox too. I could almost hear his voice right now, reminding me of the “what’s” and the “what not’s.”

  When I hit Mount LeConte, I pitched my tent and got everything set up to get my dinner ready. I laid out my sleeping pad and bag and made sure I had plenty of water before it got dark. I ate my dinner of macaroni and cheese and apple crumb cheesecake. They were both the dehydrated kind, but they tasted like I just pulled them out of the oven. I was always amazed at how great food tasted when you were on the trail. I cleaned everything up, and then I took out all the clothing I would need for the night. I brushed my teeth and then closed up my backpack, put the waterproof cover on it, and strung it up on the cables for the night. The chance of bears being out this time of year was close to nil, but I never took any chances.

  I climbed in my sleeping bag, pulled out my iPad and started reading. Before long, exhaustion took over, and I fell asleep. I always got the best sleep when I was on the trail. />
  When I opened my eyes in the morning, the cold had penetrated my tent. I was glad I had worn my Smart Wool to bed. I was as warm as could be, but nature was calling so I was going to have to get up to use the facilities, which was a very rustic outhouse up here.

  I threw on my boots and jacket and unzipped my tent and had a glimpse of my first white Christmas ever. I couldn’t have been happier!

  After my morning of frolicking in the snow, I packed everything up and headed out. As I continued on down the trail I relished in the spectacular beauty of my own personal winter wonderland. I took tons of pictures as I continued on my merry way.

  I was lost in my thoughts when I became aware of the subtle change. It wasn’t anything I saw or even heard, for I had not been paying a bit of attention. It was more of a sensation, the whisper of the air, the rustle of a fringe of pines. The hairs on the back of my neck were at full attention. I couldn’t believe how careless I had gotten.

  Daddy would not have been happy with me. Of everything he had taught me, awareness was his most important lesson.

  “Always be aware of your surroundings, sweetheart. It can save you a cart load of misery,” he would say.

  Daddy taught me to use my senses. “All of them, Maddie, not just sight and sound. Yes…listen for the snap of a twig, or anything that can indicate impending danger--a change in the upcoming weather or if you need to get out of the way of a bear. But don’t ever forget about your sixth sense, your intuition, your gut feelings. If you think it’s not safe, then it most likely isn’t.”

  In that moment of time, I knew I was not safe. I looked up to see a man approaching on the trail in front of me. How I had not seen him before, I was uncertain.

  Fear gripped my gut, as my eyes met his icy cold grey ones. I gasped slightly, unsure of what to do or say. A slight smirk briefly crossed his face, and that chilled my heart even more.

  He nodded once, as if to say, hello, and continued on the path in the opposite direction that I was going.

  I attempted to regain my composure, and I turned around to see what direction the man had decided to go, but he was gone. This was even more disconcerting.

  After taking several deep breaths in an attempt to calm my nerves, the fear still would not subside. I shook my head once, twice, and tried to clear my thoughts.

  In an instant, I was flat on my back, having been pulled from behind. Then, from the corner of my eye, I saw a flash. I would soon discover that it was the sunlight glinting off the blade of a knife.

  One look in his cruel, emotionless eyes told me I was in grave danger. My blood ran cold and fear snaked through my gut like a vicious serpent. He was evil personified. I could feel it radiating from him—deep, dark evil. My sixth sense, or intuition, was in an abnormally heightened state. My heart rate accelerated until I felt it would explode right out of my chest.

  He was a large, stout man. Not fat, but muscular and thick. He was tall and dressed in army fatigues. In his hand was a huge hunting knife pointed directly at me. A crossbow slung was over his shoulder.

  Voices began invading my mind. I looked directly at him to find he wasn’t speaking. My mind continued to be blasted by the hideous voices, and they were saying all sorts of horrific things. It was as if his mind was projecting his thoughts to me.

  This had happened to me once before…when I found out that my dad had died. I never told anyone for fear they would think I was crazy, and now it was happening again. Was he really thinking those things? If so, he intended to kill me, and those thoughts made me want to throw up. I became sick to my stomach. I knew I had to say something to try to dissuade him.

  “What do you want? I don’t have any money other than $20. I’ll give you that and my credit card. I can also tell you where my car is, and I’ll even give you the keys. Please, just don’t hurt me!” I begged.

  “You’re just like all of them, offering me whatever they can and then begging for mercy. You know I’m not interested in that. Get up and let’s go,” he said.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  No answer. For no apparent reason, I began to laugh hysterically.

  “What’re you laughing at?” he snarled. “You better not be laughing at me if you know what’s good for you.” I could see this irritated him.

  His anger intensified, as did the voices I was hearing. The next thing I knew, he landed a crushing blow directly to my right jaw that buckled me, bringing to my knees.

  I hit the ground and couldn’t seem to gather my scattered wits about me. Suddenly, I realized he was crouching over me, and again, I saw the sun glint off the knife. Before I could so much as twitch a muscle, he brought the knife down and slashed my left cheek with it. I remember thinking how he must have missed because I didn’t feel any pain. Then I started to feel the warm stickiness of my blood as it ran down my cheek.

  I brought my hand to my face to find it had been slashed from my ear to my nose. I began shaking uncontrollably from shock.

  Who was this man? Why was he doing this? I was suddenly sick, bent over heaving.

  He started circling me, much like an animal would his prey.

  “That’ll teach you not to ever laugh at me! Now get up, or I’ll do the same to your other cheek. Move it!”

  “Please, I...I’m sick.” I stammered, only to be backhanded across the face. I stumbled back to the ground and continued to tremble.

  I struggled to my feet and swayed with dizziness. It took me a moment to gain my balance, for the weight of my pack was throwing me off kilter. He started shoving me forward, and I stumbled to my knees. He grabbed me by my pack and jerked me to my feet, wrenching my arms in the process. I winced in pain.

  “Shut up!” he said as he shoved me forward.

  I didn’t want him to touch me again, so step by step I started moving.

  The blood was still pouring out of the wound, so I attempted to stem to flow of blood with the back of my hand.

  It took us about another hour to reach our destination: LeConte Lodge. It was a cluster of rustic, primitive cabins, located on Mount LeConte, that was open from March to November. Since it was late December, there would be no help for me there.

  We walked up to the main lodge, and he grabbed a fire log from the porch and broke a window, allowing him to unlock the door.

  Once inside, I removed my backpack to get something to wipe off my face. He heard me, spun around and landed another blow to my right jaw. This time, I was sure I heard it break. I screamed from the excruciating pain. Waves of nausea rolled through me.

  “Don’t touch anything without my permission. Is that clear? Any more moves like that, and I’ll put an arrow in you. You understand me?” he growled with menace.

  I quickly nodded my head. I was so terrified, and the waves of pain and nausea coursing through my body made it impossible to do otherwise. I lay there and prayed, for exactly what, I don’t remember. I was trembling so much that it was making my head pound. I tried to cradle my head in my hands, but any kind of movement was pure torture. I closed my eyes and started to concentrate on my breathing. I told myself that I must get my wits about me. This man intended to kill me, and if I were going to survive, I would have to buck up and come up with some kind of plan.

  He left the main room, and I heard him rummaging through the kitchen looking for food, I guessed. I heard things banging around. I was still afraid to move because I was so unsteady from the pain. I focused on breathing to calm myself because I was an inch away from blacking out, and if that happened, I knew I wouldn’t have a chance.

  He came back up to me and handed me a cloth. “Here, clean yourself up. You’re a damn mess, and you look like hell. And quit that crying! I hate a whiny-ass, and I’m not in the mood to hear you bawl. If you don’t want another little cut like the first one, you better not let me hear you make another sound.”

  A little cut? Is that what he considered this? It felt like my face was split in half. I couldn’t open my mouth. Th
is monster just called all of this a little cut. I felt the fire coming back into my head. I was not going to let this crazy bastard take my life away. I would come up with something, somehow, someway.

  It was freezing in the lodge, as it should have been. Darkness was quickly descending, and the temperature had dropped precipitously. It was probably below freezing outside already, and I was beginning to shiver.

  “Would it be possible for me to get my sleeping bag?” I mumbled, pain exploding in my head and face.

  “Yeah, you can have it, but I’ll get it out. No funny stuff,” he said.

  He dug into my pack. I hoped he wouldn’t find my knife because that would have to be part of my plan. “Here you go.” He tossed me my bag.

  I unrolled it and got inside. I was now shivering so badly that my teeth were chattering, causing violent spasms of pain, and I couldn’t think of a single thing except getting warm. I wondered what his next move would be. I was on edge, but I didn’t want to open up a can of worms by asking him.

  I stayed as still as possible and tried to calm myself with my breathing. I also started to formulate an escape plan.

  There were several main trails leading down from LeConte Lodge: the Boulevard (the one I came up), Alum Cave Bluffs, and Trillium Gap to name a few.

  I was very familiar with both the Boulevard and Alum Cave Bluffs. I had never hiked Trillium Gap, so that was out. I would have to go down one of the other two.

  The Boulevard was about eight miles long but a more gradual descent. Alum Cave was only about six miles, but it was much steeper. With the snow and ice, I doubted I could make much better time on Alum Cave.

 

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