Eyes of Ice

Trapped

It was hard to navigate the treacherous forest floor in the dark, but the screaming spurred Ronnie on. He hoped to god that whoever it was hadn't met the animal that had been killing hunters every winter for years. He felt sick as the screams died down, but kept up his pace. Even if he didn't make it in time to save the victim, he had to try to kill whatever had done it.

He slowed as he came close to the place he thought the screams had come from, listening with bated breath. He was relieved to hear someone sobbing, the sounds of tearing flesh thankfully absent.

The trees thinned into a small moonlit clearing, a figure curled up on the ground in the middle.

Whoever it was looked up at him. "Oh my god, you have to help me!" he pleaded.

Ronnie aimed his rifle at the trees around them, searching for predators. He didn't know how many wolves he could beat back alone. He didn't have enough ammo for a whole pack. As he approached, he noticed his outfit, a simple pale dress that didn't cover his shoulders and barely came down to his knees. It looked better suited for summer than late winter. His eyes fell on the bear trap around the stranger's leg, dark blood staining the snow around them. Shit.

"Uh, okay, hold on." He crouched beside them and put his gun down within reach, examining the trap. It seemed to have nails welded onto the jaws.

Ronnie shoved all questions aside to focus.

It was hard to disable the trap when it was so slippery with blood and apparently modified to injure its captive as much as possible. The task was harder still when the stranger buried their face into his neck and sobbed in pain as he worked. Ronnie didn't try to push them away. They must've been terrified and so, so cold.

Forcing the springs down, he wrenched the trap open with a boot and urged them to pull their leg out. Where were their shoes?

He slowly let the trap shut, then slipped his pack from his shoulders and took out a bandage roll. "What's your name?" he asked, hoping to somewhat distract the stranger from the pain as he wrapped up their leg.

"Patty," he croaked weakly into Ronnie's chest.

"I'm Ronnie."

He tied the bandage and took off his coat, pulling Patty off to help him into it. A breeze chilled him, even through the layers he was still wearing.

"Can you stand for me?"

He helped Patty struggle to his feet, holding him close and keeping his gun ready as they followed Ronnie's tracks back into the trees.

"I'll take you to my place. It's too dangerous to drive right now, but you can spend the night in front of the fire and I'll get you to a hospital tomorrow."

Patty nodded, shivering and grasping at him as he limped. "Thank you."

Ronnie rubbed his shoulder. "How did you get out here?"

"I got lost."

It wasn't a satisfying answer, but Ronnie let the conversation die and listened for the sounds of curious wildlife. Hopefully the wolves weren't feeling too confident tonight.

They weren't too far from the road, fortunately. Ronnie wondered what kind of idiot asshole had set bear traps where anyone could accidentally step in them. Some kind of sadist, judging by the added spikes. He made a mental note of the location. Tomorrow he'd scour the area for more and take the one Patty had triggered into town. Maybe someone would recognise it.

It was a relief when they made it to Ronnie's cabin with no other problems. He set Patty down on the couch in front of the fire, grabbing spare blankets from the linen cupboard. If Patty wasn't hypothermic already he had to be close to it. How long had he been out there in that thin dress?

He wanted to stay up with Patty and keep checking up to make sure he didn't stop breathing during the night, but Ronnie couldn't keep his eyes open. He woke to find himself slumped against the couch, the fire low and Patty gone. He hadn't even changed out of his clothes.

Ronnie checked every room, but found nothing. Panicked, he grabbed his coat and gun and hurried outside. When had Patty left? There was no way he could survive out here, he needed a doctor.

"Patty?" Ronnie called.

No reply.

A single set of footprints headed from the front door down the driveway. He followed them until his brain stopped racing and he realised they were leading the way he'd come with Patty last night. As sense returned to him, he had a strange thought and bent down to examine the prints.

He cursed himself. They were his footprints and they were pointing back to his cabin. Patty's were nowhere to be seen.

Frowning, Ronnie continued to follow the trail. Patty had been right beside him for the whole journey. There should have been another set of prints.

The small clearing looked completely different in the morning light. Peaceful, rather than threateningly still. Maybe the total absence of the bear trap and any trace of blood had something to do with it.

Had he hallucinated everything?