A Lost Ghost

Chapter 15: A Friend

I walk slowly, shivering as the freezing air slams into my body. I've long since lost feeling in my fingers and toes. My nose and cheeks feel as if they're encased in ice. My nose is completely stuffed. I sniffle every five seconds to keep a stream of snot from running down my face. I just hope it doesn't freeze. The winter jacket Cheung gave me really isn't doing much of anything. Not much will in this weather, though. I trudge through the knee-high snow. I glance back up at the cloud-covered sky. Thanks to the clouds, I lost track of the North Star hours ago, but according to my compass, I'm still going in the right direction. Could be towards Mongolia, or it could be deeper into Russia or back into China. Guess we'll find out eventually. The only sound throughout the sea of wintery forest is the crunch of snow beneath my boots. Every now and then, I hear an owl in the distance. I don't think I've ever heard an owl in real life before. A twig snaps behind me. I stop in my tracks and twist around, my eyes darting through the dark forest. I move my flashlight around but don't see anything out of the ordinary.

Chill, Binky. It's probably just a squirrel or something.

I turn and start walking again. I stop again as a low growl cuts through the silence.

The hairs stand up on the back of my neck. I grip my walking stick tightly, and my heart starts to pound. Another twig snaps in the distance, and I hear the snow crunch underneath something's feet. I push the compass into my pocket and raise the stick. A very faint panting noise comes from the right of me. I flip around, facing the sound. The crunching gets louder and louder and almost...multiplies as if it wasn't just one thing out there. My eyes snap to the right, my breath hitching as I see two glowing yellow eyes staring back at me. Then another set. Then another. Then I see seven pairs of eyes staring me down. A curse word escapes my lips. My heart pounds rapidly as the animals circle me round and round. The glowing eyes come closer and start to emerge from the darkness. My blood freezes as their grey and black fur sway in the wind. Right in front of me, all around me, is a pack of hungry wolves. "Gotta be kidding me."

I thought wolves were afraid of humans. I thought they only went after wounded animals. My heart sinks.

You moron. You're the wounded animal.

The wolves growl and circle me. I'm mesmerized by their glowing eyes and their size. I mean, I knew wolves were big, but you don't realize how big until they're standing right next to you. My eyes flick to a wolf whose glowing eyes are staring into my soul. I breathe fast and hard. I swallow hard and slowly take a step back. The wolf in front of me stops and bares his huge teeth. Drool drips from its razor-sharp teeth. I take a closer look at it, seeing its ribs poking out from his chest. The look in his eyes, it's the same look in mine. The look of unfiltered, raw, pure hunger and desperation.

I scream as it lunges at me. I swing my stick. The wolf yelps as I smash it into its ribs. The others howl and growl, still circling around me. I wave the stick around, making as much noise as possible. Another one nips at my ankle. I twist around and smash the stick into its skull. It yelps and disappears into the forest. I gasp as something slams into my back. I swing my elbow back. It burst with pain as I hit the wolf. I twist onto my back. My eyes widen as a wolf lunges at me. I shoot my arms forward, dropping my stick as I grab the wolf's neck. He snarls and lunges at my throat over and over again. I use all my strength to push it back, its teeth inches from my face. I can feel its hot breath against my cheeks. I kick my feet as the other wolves clamp their jaws around my ankles. I cry out in agony as a wolf sinks its teeth into my stitches. The pain explodes as it tears them out.

This is it. This is how I'm really gonna die. Not by the hands of the Russians or Chinese but by Mother Nature. By a pack of starving wolves. A gunshot rips through the air. The wolf flinches, taking its attention off me. I slam my knuckles right into its nose. It yelps and darts into the darkness. I sit up and kick the other wolves around my legs. I cover my ears as another gunshot rips through the air. The wolves scurry off into the woods. I stand, wincing in pain, my ears ringing. I look down at my bleeding ankles. I place my hand over my throbbing thigh. I can feel the blood soak into the torn-up bandage.

A chill curls up my spine as I hear a gun being loaded. A Russian voice cuts through the darkness, and seconds later, a man comes into view. He's holding a hunting rifle and wearing a winter jacket and cargo pants. It's just him, though. Or at least he's the only one I can see. He doesn't look like he's wearing a military uniform, either. He yells at me again. I slowly raise my hands. He motions for me to get down onto my knees. With no gun and in too much pain to run, I do. The cold snow soaks my pants, but the warm blood keeps the cold from coming in. The man walks up to me. He has a dark, scruffy beard and beady little eyes that are way too close together. He looks to be in his late forties. He says something over and over again in Russian. I don't answer for obvious reasons. He slowly walks around to my side and presses the barrel of the rifle into the side of my head. He latches onto my bookbag and yanks it off, searching through it. His eyes brighten, a smile curls at the corner of his mouth as he sees my helmet and gear in my bag. A laugh trickles out of his throat.

"Oh! My lucky day! You must be the American Pilot everyone's looking for."

I close my eyes and sigh. Welp. I had a good run. I evaded them for as long as I could, but my times up now. My luck has run out. The Russian pulls something from his belt. A brown bag. He takes it and tosses it over my head. He lifts me up and urges me forward. His fingers curl around my bicep as he leads me around. He doesn't say much of anything. He doesn't even complain about how slow I'm walking or about how much I'm limping. I guess he understands that I can't run and that I won't get far if I do. We walk for about an hour. I hear a door creak open, and I wait for Russian soldiers to tackle me, tie me up, or just end it right here and now by putting a bullet in my head. But none of that happens. I step onto a wooden floor and instantly feel the comfort of heat. I cringe and squint my eyes against the light as he takes the bag off my head. I glance around. He brought me to a small cabin. There was a flat-screen TV on the wall, couches in the living room, a table, a refrigerator, and a stove in the kitchen. Did this dude bring me to his house?

"What is this?" I ask, "Aren't you gonna turn me in?"

He doesn't say anything. He just scoffs and sets his hunting rifle down by the door. My eyes dart between him and the rifle. I'm a split second away from grabbing it when he walks over to a hidden door, painted to look like the wall, and opens it. My eyes flick to a desk in the corner of the room. My heart sinks. I don't know whether to be hopeful or mortified as I see two helmets sitting on the desk, along with two flight suits folded neatly next to them. My blood runs cold as I recognize the design immediately. One is all black with a skull on the back, holding a knife in its teeth. Dangling from the handle of the knife is a pair of dice.

"Bink?"

My eyes dart to the side. My heart contracts in my chest. My eyes swell with tears. I just stand there, frozen, my heart in my throat as I stare at Matrix and Dice.