Chapter 16.3

December 29, 1879

I did not sleep more overnight. I couldn’t. That thing would have pretended to be my brother and came to me again as I slept. I must prevent that from happening. The bizarre part is, I do not feel any different than when I slept an entire night. I should be much more fatigued today than I usually am, but I am not.

I will eat, drink some more willow bark tea, and then try to clear more snow. I must get us out of this cabin. I might be turning into a monster, but I will not let down Jim. I will keep my promise to him.

December 29, 1879

Second entry. I broke through the drift with the stove poker. It is snowing yet again. It has been nearly a month of nothing but snow. How is this possible? I managed to dig more firewood out and brought it inside to thaw and dry off. The way the snow is coming, digging to get out of this cabin will be pointless. The flakes are the size of the palm of my hand and just as thick. I have been here for many years, and I have never seen snow like this before.

I am cooking more flesh. I was eating it because I thought that is what Jim wanted me to do. Now, with what has been coming to me in my dreams, I do not know what to believe. If I want to live and carry out my brother’s last wishes, I have to keep eating it. If I keep eating it, will that speed up the transformation of what I am becoming?

December 29, 1879

Third entry. I ate more, and I keep checking the snow. It is still falling in those big flakes. If it stops falling, I might be able to make some progress or at least not lose as much ground. 

I am so hungry. I just ate not an hour ago, and my stomach is already growling. It has to be because of the flesh. There is no other explanation for it. I don’t know why it would be any different than any other flesh. If it is thoroughly cooked, it would be the same as anything else. It should be the same as anything else.

My busted shoulder is throbbing. I will have another cup of willow bark tea and lie down to rest awhile. I do not want to sleep, but I do need to let my shoulder relax and rest a bit. 

December 29, 1879

Fourth entry. I fell asleep. Why did I have to fall asleep? That thing was in my dreams again. I feel like it did not want to let me wake up. Is it going to try to take me in my sleep now? Is it going to trap me in a never-ending dream world where I will spend eternity? If this is all being done by the wendigo, it is far more cruel and evil than I could have ever thought.

December 29, 1879

Fifth entry. This frozen hell will never end. The snow just keeps falling. My dear, sweet Sarah, I want this to come to an end so I can be with you again. This ravenous hunger and constant cold are wearing on me. I just want it to end.

December 29, 1879

Sixth entry. I had to eat more flesh. I am so hungry. I cannot get enough food, and that is something that I will run out of entirely unless this snow breaks. Please, dear God, if you do exist, make this snow stop.

Sara let out a slow, deep breath as she marked her place and closed the journal. She had not realized that she had been holding her breath and fighting tears until that moment. She was reading the thoughts of someone she believed was going insane, and it was ripping her heart out.

Herschel and Jim had become like friends to her.  They were like pen pals she would never get to meet in person and yet knew them intimately. It was difficult for her to read about Jim’s passing, but reading about Herschel's descent into madness was heartbreaking. 

Sara wiped tears as she sat listening to the rolling thunder rumbling in the distance. She contemplated reading more of the journal until she glanced toward the door and saw that it was dark outside. She looked at the time on her phone and was shocked to see how late it was. Sara got up and went to the door to close it before going to bed. She untied the door and looked out to see the buck still taking shelter under her tarp. 

Sara asked the deer, “Ted, what are you going to do when I leave in a couple of days?” 

The deer snorted and shook his head.

“That’s what I thought,” Sara said with a laugh.

Sara closed the door, tying it closed when she did. She then went about getting ready for bed. Sara replaced the fading chemical light stick hanging in the center of the cabin with a new one. She needed something to help her relax a little and chose to drink a cup of cocoa before she tried to sleep.

Sara sat waiting as the water for her cocoa heated. She kept looking at the shelves and thinking about all of the personal belongings carefully tucked away in the wooden boxes that lined the wall. As Sara did, she noticed that the shadows within the cabin were moving. She looked up to see the lightstick hanging from the ceiling was swinging.

“That’s new,” Sara muttered as she looked around. 

Nothing else in the cabin was moving, including the water in her bottle sitting on the table. That told her there was no sign of a breeze or vibration that would cause the light stick to swing. Sara felt her pulse quicken as the chemical light began to swing harder.

“Jim? Herschel? Is that you?” Sara asked, her voice shaking.

Sara continued to watch as the light stick began to slow. It changed its movement from swinging back and forth to a slow circle in sweeping arcs. After several minutes of the chemical light swinging in ever-decreasing circles, it finally came to a stop.

Sara sat shivering at the table, feeling as if all the cabin's heat had been sucked out by something.  Her teeth were chattering as she pulled a hoodie and a pair of fleece pants from her pack and put them on. 

“Okay, I am thoroughly freaked out now,” Sara said through her still chattering teeth.

Sara went to her camp stove and dipped a cup of hot water for her cocoa. She had wanted it to help her calm down before she went to bed, but now she was looking forward to it helping her warm up.  She quickly stirred in the packet of powder, then cradled the warm cup in both hands. 

Sara sipped on the cocoa as she tried to rationalize why the cabin suddenly became frigid and why the light stick had begun to swing. The problem was that she could not think of a single reason why either happened. It was June, and the weather was warm. She had just finished securing the door, so there were no sudden breezes. She had been in the cabin for days, with much stronger wind than what was taking place now, and had never felt anything. In fact, the cabin was quite warm and stuffy without the door being tied open to allow fresh air in. 

Sara finished her cocoa and let out a sigh. Her eyelids were heavy as she climbed into her sleeping bag. She was still chilled to the bone and shivering as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.