The snow crunches under my feet. I feel a bit weary about it. When snow crunches, it means it is hard. Like ice. It makes it very easy to end up on a patch of thin ice, and fall through to the frozen water death lurking below. All around me was a sea of snow, with hills pushing up from the ground covered in white, and up ahead, a sparse treeline.
Jacob is of little help at this point. He bounds back towards me, playfully, his paws not breaking the surface of the snow. Although his demeanor may seem wolf-like, he is the most shamefully cowardly dog you'll ever have the good fortune of meeting. While he may hunt his meals - at least I assume he hunts, he has never gone hungry for all the time I have had him, and I have never once fed him - at the slightest bit of danger he will tuck his tail and hide behind me.
Some sled dog.
His fur looks a little more orange than usual. Well, perhaps orange isn't the right word: I was wearing the orange sunglasses I always wore. I push them down my nose and look at him more carefully. He had come bounding from just beyond the treeline ahead of me. My heart quickened just a bit. His fur, normally as white as the snow itself, was now tinged just a little red, with a big bright red spot on his hind leg.
I knelt down to him, and examined a little closer. Running my brown mittened hand over his fur came back just a bit darker. I removed the glove and ran a bare finger through the bright spot.
Blood.
Jacob seemed fine, I don't think it was his own blood. He normally never came back this messy from a hunt of his own. Perhaps just a bit of blood near his snout, but thats ever been about it. His face was clean right now.
I wiped my mitten and finger on the snow, put it back on, and stood up again, drawing my jacket in just a bit for warmth. Scanning the horizon, specifically near the treeline, I tried to strain to see what may be within it. The snow simply blinded me for my troubles, so I pushed my sunglasses back up.
I took stock of what I had with me once more, perhaps just delaying the inevitable, but cautious nonetheless. My long black coat, lined with dark grey fur, sufficiently cut the howling wind while keeping me warm. The black felt Stetson on my head, while perhaps impractical for weather on this planet, was a relic of the old world, so rare and unique, that I could never bear to part with it. It reminded me of a place I had never seen, and of people I had never met, nor ever will. A people doomed to a dying planet, orbitting a dying star, in a sky devoid of life.
I opened the bright red bag strapped across my shoulder: inside, as always, I found the assortment of bandages, liquids, pills, and tools necessary to my trade. All in its right pocket, all ready to be fetched in a moment of emergency.
I tugged on the straps around my shoulders, feeling the weight of the stretcher behind me. Bright orange as well, and on two skids, the stretcher held all of my worldly possessions on it. My tent, sleeping bag, and supplies and tools necessary to eke out a shelter for the night, and enough food to last awhile. I tried not to think about how long that may be.
Again I looked at the treeline. "Well Jacob, there's no time like the present." His ears perked up at his name, tongue lolling to the side. He seemed perfectly happy to follow me to the ends of the earth with never an explanation.
We pushed on towards the trees, now only a few minutes away from them. Jacob kept bounding towards the trees, and then running back towards me, barking. I felt a twinge in my temple.
He has found something... but no, that's not it. Something else is wrong here.
I quickened my pace, and followed him into the trees. They were all dead, barren of leaves. A forest full of dead trees. It was a surprise they were still standing at all, and had not yet toppled to this wind.
The snow slowly started to take on a red hue. Jacob dodged off behind a few trees ahead, and I followed close behind.
There, in a small clearing, was a man lying on the ground, one forearm lying several feet from him. He was whimpering quietly, and breathing deeply. The snow by the stump of his arm had melted and turned a deep red. He had lost too much blood already.
I rushed towards him, pulled out bandages and a syringe from my bag. I used a pair of scissors to cut away the fur parka from his arms, to get better access.
"You're going to be okay, I'm a healer, I can help you. Just stay calm."
His eyes were unfocused, and he obviously didn't hear me at all. But as I slid the syringe into his other arm, his eyes widened just a bit. His dilated eyes came back into focus, and squarely on me.
"MOVE! MOVE! RUN!" He thrashed beneath me, but I held him down, waiting for the drugs to take effect. Right on queue, his muscles relaxed again, but still his eyes focused on me. He began to mouth something.
"What is it? I can't hear you. Are you okay?"
I put my ear right up to his mouth, and just barely heard over the howling wind, "They're coming for you too".
My temple twinged again, this time much more forcibly. I jerked up, just in time to see them jumping down from the tree branches. Lost Ones, perhaps six or seven of them. They were completely naked save for some cloth covering their feet and pelvises. Eyes completely black and unblinking. Mouths agape, teeth red. I glanced at the forearm lying across from me, and now finally noticed all the teeth marks up and down it. I had been foolish to miss that.
They closed in on me. I could hear Jacob barking fearfully, but the barks were distant: obviously he was scared for me, but he was more scared for himself to remain too close to the Lost Ones.
They closed in on me, now beginning to shriek. First one, then another, and another, until finally the wind itself was unheard over the ungodly shrieking they were making before me.
Until now, the fear had not registered: I suppose the adrenaline of rescuing this man had overridden that. But now that I had a moment to think for my own safety, my muscles locked up, unwilling to comply my retreat. I lay there, frozen in a crouch before them, as they approached.
I could feel my vision begin to redden. God, this is NOT the time to blackout. Stay awake! But it was too late. I could feel the strength leaving my muscles and my eyes close. The last thing I heard was the wet squishing of flesh being cut. While I didn't feel pain, I prayed still that it was not my own flesh.
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