Author's note: This story takes place following Holly's Winter and Cecee's Spring, but before Vicky's Fall and Oksana's New Year. However, this story was written immediately after Holly's Winter and before any of the others in the series. It should stand as its own complete story. I appreciate comments, feedback and constructive criticism.
XVI
Two days later, I still had seen no sign of my tormentor. Nor had I seen any sign of the two from the airplane, assuming that Windigo had not lied about the whole thing. Could he simply be giving me false hope about escaping so as to make my terror upon recapture sweeter for him?
After I set up my tent, again under a tree to hide myself as best I could, I heard two shots in the distance. I held my breath in an attempt to hear any other proof of humans around me. Everything remained silent, except a wind started howling through the branches and my heart seemed to be pounding in my chest very loudly. Looking up, I could see dark green clouds blowing in across the blackening sky. Was this his doing? I knew some faeries had power over the weather. I crawled into my tent and sealed it up. I knew it would offer no protection against Windigo, but the illusion of protection was priceless. I had never hidden under my bed sheets as a child, but I now understood why many children felt some comfort in doing so.
I tried to sleep. I started counting sheep until Windigo showed up and ripped them apart. I awoke in fright. I had heard another gunshot! It was hard to tell how close it was as bullets of rain pelted my tent, passing easily through the sparsely needled branches of the sheltering tree.
Then there was another shot and a woman's voice. "Don't waste time shooting at it!"
I unzipped the tent opening and crawled out. Everything was dark and the wind changed direction rapidly, throwing the rain at me first from above, then from the side and then directly at my face. I ignored the hard raindrops and peered into the darkness.
"Keep going! Don't give up!" called out a man. That voice sounded familiar, I thought. Who is that?
"Over here!" I shouted. "Come over here! I have a tent!"
I could now hear the man and woman crashing through the trees. There was a flash of lightning and I saw one of them point directly at me as the other raised a rifle and pointed it at me.
"Don't shoot! Don't shoot me! Quick, get over here before he catches you!" Seeing other people had bolstered my hope that I might escape reasonably unscathed.
As the man and the woman approached I scrambled back into my tent. The woman crawled in first, with her rifle and small backpack. The man followed, also carrying a rifle and shouldering a large backpack. Once they were in I sealed the opening to the tent.
"This flimsy tent won't stop that bear," said the man. Where did I hear that voice before?
"That is no bear," said the woman, with a trace of a French accent. "I told you I shot it in the eye. It is a spirit bear, although I never believed such things existed." I did not recognize the woman at all.
"It's no bear," I explained. "He calls himself Windigo. One of you must promise me that if he finds us then you will shoot me."
The man and woman went silent in the darkness. I could hear one of them searching in their backpack. The man said "Jenny? Jenny, is that you?"
The woman lit a match and I looked at the man. "Phil! Oh, thank God!" I threw myself across the small tent, wrapped my arms around Phil and burst into tears.
XVII
I wept on his shoulder, trying to tell him everything that had happened between breaths and sobs. Phil just kept his strong arms around me and tried to soothe me as best he could. It must have been over an hour before I finally ran out of tears and just sat quietly in his lap, completely spent. His flannel shirt felt good against my cheek. He was tall for a man and well built and I fit into his lap very comfortably.
"She's hysterical," said Phil softly, glancing at the woman.
I looked at the woman and saw sympathy and curiosity in her narrow, brown eyes. She had long, straight, black hair tied behind her head in a ponytail, fine facial features and a sun-browned complexion. She was dressed for hiking, with jeans, hiking boots and a pink flannel shirt and had a good figure. I thought she might be an aboriginal.
"I know." She stared into Phil's eyes. "That was no bear. I hit it twice."
"Bears that big don't die easily," replied Phil.
"I've hunted bears before. That was no bear." She looked into my face. "Why did you say it was not a bear?"
"Because it isn't," I said simply. Realizing I was more coherent now they waited for me to continue. "There's a...creature near here that is very dangerous. It can change shape."
"Shh, Jenny. Just be quiet," soothed Phil. "You've had a rough time of it. It must have been the serial killer that caught you, or was chasing you. That's why I came here looking for you. When we were at Joe's Place in Hearne, you told me you had never been to Canada before. Once my leave was over, I contacted Mary at O'Hallihan's Supplies and she mentioned that you had come here on some sort of crazy mission. RCMP records show there has been a serial killer operating here for a few decades. I went on leave again and came as soon as I could. Now just rest, Jenny."
I looked up into his face, with his short dark hair and the beginnings of a dark beard and moustache. Phil was very worried about me. "I thought..." I began. Then I thought I'd best not discuss that unhappy date with Phil right now; there were more important things to worry about. I disengaged myself from Phil and sat looking at both of them. I put my hand out to the woman. "Call me Jenny. Apparently, I am some sort of ambassador to Canada, representing the North Pole."
The woman's jaw dropped. "Qu'est-ce...? What did you just say?"
Phil interrupted. "That's right: Jenny is a diplomat from the North Pole."