Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Harry rears, kicking his front legs out at the attackers, then drops low to buck behind him. I twist to see him get one of the creatures in the head, one that was just about to attack from the rear, but the relief is short-lived when Cole loses his balance and pulls me off with him.
We both tumble to the snow as Harry bolts for the trees.
Cole is the first to get up and stagger away, Jeopardy moving between us as if to protect me, as the creatures come at us again, this time on the opposite side of the horse.
Jeopardy rears now, giving just enough space for me to get low and shoot, getting one of the monster’s in the kneecaps. It cries out and falls down into the snow in a bloody heap just as Jeopardy twists and brings his hooves down on their head, crushing their brains.
But Cole is screaming as another creature grabs him, and Aubrey is trying to prevent Jeopardy from running off. I wish she would, she could get to safety with Eli and leave me here.
But she’s aiming her gun while balancing Eli against her. She fires twice at the monster that has Cole in rapid succession, the sound cracking across the mountainside. The creature jerks as the bullet strikes, a spray of dark fluid erupting from its shoulder, but it doesn’t stop.
I run around Jeopardy’s body, taking aim as Cole struggles to his feet, reaching for the knife at his belt, his pistol in the snow beside him. “Run!” I shout to him, squeezing off a shot that catches the creatures in the chest. Like Aubrey’s bullet, it seems to do little more than annoy it.
Cole manages three stumbling steps before another monster comes barreling out of the trees and reaches him, tackling him back to the ground with bone-crushing force. The other is on him in an instant, a writhing mass of pale limbs and snapping teeth. Cole’s scream cuts through the falling snow, high and desperate, before it chokes off in a wet gurgle.
My bullets can’t save him now.
Nothing can.
“We have to help him!” Aubrey cries, trying to control Jeopardy.
“We can’t,” I say. Blood sprays across the snow, vivid red against pristine white. Cole’s arm rises from the mass of bodies, still clutching his knife, before it’s dragged back down. “He’s our distraction.”
In one quick motion I reach under Eli’s body to grab the saddle horn and then swing my legs up, using all the energy I have. I slide onto his back behind the saddle, Jeopardy protesting at the added weight, but we have no choice.
“Go!” I yell and Jeopardy bursts into a gallop despite the treacherous snow. The hungry ones not occupied with Cole continue to pace us through the trees, still herding, still guiding our flight exactly where they want us to go, but even at their top speed, we’re faster.
Eventually they’re left behind, though I know they won’t be behind for long.
We ride in grim silence, the only sounds the heavy breathing of Jeopardy beneath us and his hooves thundering through the snow. Cole’s screams echo in my mind, the bright spray of his blood against the snow a vivid afterimage whenever I close my eyes, and I’ve already seen my fair share of horror today.
Another one gone. Another life claimed by these mountains, by the hunger that waits in their shadows.
I glance down over Aubrey’s shoulder at Eli, lying there motionless except for Jeopardy’s movement. Deep down I know that I’m about to lose my one true friend as well. I’m doing my best not to dwell on it, because if I do, I know I’ll start thinking about how futile this whole situation is.
I probably won’t only lose Eli. I might lose Aubrey too.
If that happens, I won’t make it either.
The storm intensifies around us, snow falling so thickly now that it’s becoming difficult to see more than a few yards ahead. The cold settles in around us, coating us in ice. I can barely feel my legs, my hands are numb as they wrap around Aubrey’s coat.
“There,” I say finally, pointing toward a dark smudge against the whiteness ahead. “I think that’s it.”
We urge Jeopardy forward, picking up the pace despite the deepening snow and the burden he carries. As we draw closer, the smudge resolves into a small cabin nestled against a granite outcropping and thick forest. It’s old, weathered by countless Sierra winters, but sturdy—stone foundation, thick timber walls, steep roof designed to shed heavy snow. A trapper’s cabin dating back to the Gold Rush era, maintained over decades by hunters and backcountry skiers as an emergency shelter.
Right now, it looks like salvation.
“Don’t like this,” Aubrey mutters as we approach, her teeth chattering loudly. “What makes you think we won’t be sitting ducks?”