Chapter 15.2

December 25, 1879

Third entry. Pain and hunger woke me. I am cooking more flesh as I drink willow bark tea to help ease the pain. I am hurting all over. My busted shoulder is the worst, but everything hurts. My joints and hands are so bad I can barely hold my cup of tea. If this is God’s way of punishing me, I wish he would end me and get it over with. 

I can smell the flesh cooking. It repulses me, yet I crave it. Why do I want it so? Am I losing my mind? Going mad because of my situation? I have seen men go crazy for far less.  

Oh Sarah, what a sad excuse for a holiday today is. I love you, and I miss you. I love and miss our baby boy even though he never took a single breath. I can still see his perfect face as I held him in my arm and your hand in mine as you slipped away from me.

I know the pain and fatigue are making me more melancholy than I would typically be. After I eat, I will drink more willow bark tea and try to sleep more. I need to find relief soon, or I fear I will not make it long enough to dig us out of this cabin.

December 25, 1879

Fourth entry. I slept for several hours and awoke in less pain. I cannot express the relief I have for receiving a break from the pain and fatigue. I have never felt anything like it. Even my bones were tired. Maybe everything that has happened since the first is finally catching up to me. Lord knows it has been more than ten men would go through in that length of time.

I ate and had more willow tea when I woke up. This time I feel full from my meal. The melancholy must be the problem, or at least part of it. Knowing that will make me better able to deal with it. 

Sarah, my dear, I remember how your death affected me. Losing Jim and my injured shoulder are affecting me nearly the same. I never would have thought I would be going through all of this again. As I sit here, my heart aches, and I feel empty. 

I think I will try to bring in more firewood now that I feel a little better. I need to bring in more snow to pack around Jim anyway. I also need to bring some snow in to melt for drinking water. I am going through a lot of water making this confounded tea. At least it helps ease the pain some.

December 25, 1879

Fifth entry. I worked until I tired out, and it was nearly dark. I began to hear noises from deep in the forest that I have never heard before. I wish I knew what it was. It would put my mind at ease if I could identify the animal making that racket. If it is an animal. It must be an animal.

This season there have been so many strange things in the forest that I have never seen or heard before. I have so many questions about what they are, where they came from, and why they are here. I doubt any of them will be answered any time soon. I find it strange that it all started happening after Jim came here. It is like they were drawn to him. Maybe it is because of his people's connection to the land. 

That thing is stomping toward the cabin again. I can feel it getting closer. I have secured the door, and I will add more wood to the fire to heat the stovepipe. That will at least keep it from messing with the pipe, which is one of the things that is keeping me alive.

December 25, 1879

Sixth entry. In the silence of this place, I can hear that abomination breathing at the top of the door as if it is on the roof looking over the edge at the doorway. I can feel it waiting for me to open the door so it can grab me. I should be safe in this cabin, yet I feel like I am being hunted by something. 

I am sitting here as quietly as I can. I don’t even want to breathe. I feel like if it hears me, it will tear its way into this cabin after us. Even though I have my rifle, I doubt it would do any good in defending us against that thing. 

December 26, 1879

I woke up famished this morning. I am going to claim that it is because of all the work I did yesterday and going to bed without eating. I do not want to give that silly wendigo legend any more life than it already has. I have moments of weakness when I think it might be true, but I know it is all hogwash. Nothing like that has ever existed, and it never will.

I slept reasonably well last night. I woke up and felt rested for a change. I am still hurting, but not like I was yesterday. It looks like I was right about simply needing more rest. 

My breakfast is almost finished cooking. After I eat, I will get back to work on the snow. I am only working with one arm, but I am making fairly good time with getting the steps dug out and packed. It is slower than when Jim was doing it. Then again, I would still be slower than Jim, even with two good arms. That man worked circles around me.

December 26, 1879

Second entry. I had to stop and rest. If things continue the way they are, I might be able to get us out of here in the next couple of days. That thought is such a relief and a weight off of me. That also means I will be able to hunt and get more food. 

I do not want to admit that the flesh has become more tolerable to me. I no longer mind the taste the way I did. Perhaps it is the spices that Jim told me about in my dream. Maybe I have just become used to the unusual flavor. The reason does not really matter as long as I am able to eat it and keep up my strength until I get out of here. 

I am cooking more flesh now, and I am drinking the willow bark tea as I wait. I do not understand how I now find the flesh tolerable, and yet the tea is still so awful tasting to me. I have been drinking the tea for much longer and consuming it far more often than the repugnant flesh. 

December 26, 1879

Third entry. I think God might finally be smiling on me. I am still making good time, and what sky I can see is a bright, clear blue. If this weather holds, I might be able to at least haul myself out of here and set some traps and snares. The thought of a rabbit fills me with ecstasy. That is something I would have never thought. 

As I sit here resting for a moment, I look at my hands, and they don’t look right. The color is off. They are very pale, even gray-tinged. My busted arm is still not working the way it should, but the other one is. It is not the cold causing it. If it were, I would feel it, and I’m not. 

I have also lost weight. I am not surprised at that. I have not been eating much for nearly a month. I expect to lose a lot more weight by the time the spring thaw hits. I will be able to slow down the weight loss if I can get out and get some game of some kind.

December 26, 1879

Fourth entry. I have had to stop work on the snow and firewood for now, maybe for the rest of the day. I was prying at a stick of wood, and it came loose with two others. One of them hit me hard in the leg right at my knee. It is swelling up and turning blue. This was the last thing I needed to have happen now.

After I rest a little, I will cut off a big piece of flesh and cook it, so I don’t have to worry about cooking as often. I think I will start cutting a large hunk and cooking it in the morning so I don’t have to cook during the day. That should give me more time to rest when I am not working.

My sweet Sarah, I was thinking of you as I dug firewood out of the snow. I remembered the snowstorm that came our first winter together. I remember I had to dig our firewood out of the snow then too. That two feet of snow was nothing like this, but doing it now made that memory pop into my head.

I miss you, Sarah. You have no idea how much I still love you and our Timothy. There have been times in the last month that have made me wish I would leave this world so I can be with you both again. I would trade places with Jim in a heartbeat if I could, just to be with you again, even if it were only for a moment.

December 26, 1879

Fifth entry. I cooked a good pound of flesh. I devoured it all in one sitting, and I am starving. I feel like I have not eaten in days. Why? Why is this happening? I should be full and satisfied. Even gorged like a tick after eating that much, and yet I am famished. I do not understand.

I have more flesh cooking now. I hope that I feel this way because of all my work and merely working up an appetite. I am going to have a little fry bread with it. That seemed to help the last time I felt like this. 

December 26, 1879

Sixth entry. I woke up to the sound of something screeching outside the cabin. It is another sound I do not recall ever hearing before. Why are these things attracted to this place? Not only the forest, but to my tiny cabin. To what was my refuge.

Between the noise and my growling stomach, I have given up on sleep. I sit here and think about food and escaping this place. Food and the need to eat more is almost all consuming of my thoughts tonight. I just do not understand it. 

The wendigo keeps invading my thoughts as well. The insatiable need for human flesh that it has. I think there is a better chance I am losing my mind than turning into a wendigo. Honestly, as I sit here and think, it could be either one.

The screeching has subsided for now. I am going to lie down and rest. Sleep might not come, but I can at least rest my weary bones in my bed. This silence in the cabin is deafening when I try to sleep. I had become so accustomed to hearing Jim breathe that now, with that sound being gone, I have even more difficulty sleeping. It doesn’t matter. I still have to try.

Sara marked her place and closed the book.  Her mind was racing over what she had read in the journal. Her emotions bounced from sadness as she read about Herschel’s late wife and son and the pain he still carried to worry at the prospect of Herschel losing his mind. Herschel was so divided between the thought of becoming a wendigo after being forced to cannibalize his friend and knowing he might be going insane. Sara tried to put herself in his place and felt nauseous at the thought.