1
“You said you wanted me to plan more, so I did,” said Ben, his breath forming into vapor as it collided with the bitter evening air. The sun had already sunk halfway beneath the mountainous horizon and the temperature was dropping rapidly.
“Well...I guess I didn’t realize you were so bad at it,” replied Beth, quick-stepping beside him to keep warm.
“That’s what I tried to tell you!” The steel four-way was cold in Ben’s naked hands as he loosened the lugs on the rear wheel of their SUV. “You said ‘pick somewhere you want to go,’ so I did. And now here we are.”
“Do you want my mittens?” asked Beth.
“No, I’m almost done,” said Ben, rubbing his hands together and blowing into them for warmth.
The clank of the spare as Ben positioned it squarely onto the rear hub echoed in the valley, the only audible sound besides the harsh, howling wind. It made them both feel truly alone on this stretch of dirt and gravel road. They had been driving on it for nearly an hour before the tire had blown and hadn’t come across a single living soul the entire time.
“All done,” said Ben as he tightened the last lug. He stood up and stretched his back, looking across the valley as the sun dipped low and the clouds moved to overtake it. “So, do you want to go back? It’s going to be at least three hours before we get to a hotel.”
Beth chewed her lip as she thought on the matter, the breeze tossing the tangle of hair that streamed out from under the knit cap she wore. “I dunno. Seems pretty pointless if we turn around.”
“It all seems pointless now,” said Ben as he began putting away the tools and repacking the camping equipment into the cargo area of the vehicle. He stared at the stacks of gear, shaking his head. “What the fuck was I thinking, camping in February.”
“Don’t fret. We’ll be fine,” said Beth, handing him supplies from the pile to repack. “Let’s keep going, find this campsite and when we wake up we can see this pristine lake of yours.”
Ben slammed the hatch, the echo like an explosion in the wilderness. “You sure?”
“Yep, let’s do it. You’ll just have to keep me warm because, you know, it’s February,” said Beth as she embraced her man.
Ben hugged her tightly, kissing the top of her head. “I think I can do that,” he said.
2
Twin beams split the darkness, seeking the crumbling and broken way, the rocky terrain bouncing the couple from side-to-side inside the vehicle. They had been driving for at least thirty minutes since fixing the flat and during that time the road had taken them higher into the mountains.
“We’ve gotta be getting close. What’s the map say?” asked Ben as he hugged the steering wheel, eyeing the road for pitfalls.
“It’s not a GPS. Those don’t work here. It’s a map and it says the same thing it did ten minutes ago,” said Beth. “For all I know we already passed the campsite.”
“Well, the lake is on the right and I haven’t seen anything yet,” said Ben. “Keep looking. Shine a flashlight out the window or something.”
“It’s freezing out there, I’m not going to--”
Ben brought the vehicle to a sudden stop, the headlights casting their gaze on a rusty gate just off the main path. “Hey, what’s that!” A battered sign hung lopsided on the front.
“Keep out,” Beth read the sign aloud.
“Great. Fucking fantastic,” said Ben, slamming the wheel with a balled fist.
“Well?” Beth asked.
“Well what?”
“Is this the campsite or not?”
“How the fuck should I know!” He slammed the wheel again.
“Stop that, you’re going to break something,” sighed Beth.
The engine hummed quietly as they sat with a decision. “WelI,” said Beth after some time, “It either is and it’s private property or it’s not and we missed it or haven’t gone far enough.”
“We should’ve turned around,” Ben groaned.
“It’s too late now.”
“I know that!”
Beth folded the map and put it back in the glovebox. The dome light flashed on as she opened her door and stepped out into the cold night.
“What are you doing?” asked Ben.
“Grabbing the gear. The sooner we get a fire going and the tent set up, the sooner this night is over,” she replied.
“But it says keep out? Some crazy hillbillies probably live up there.”
Beth leaned back inside the car. “Crazy or not, if there is anyone around here, they probably have enough sense not to be sleeping in the woods right now.” She slammed her door and waited for Ben to park.
3
Ben and Beth lumbered up the pock-marked path beyond the gate, laden with supplies to build a campsite for the night. Their headlamps guided the way while the wind howled all around them, the frigid air biting through their heavy winter jackets.
“How about right over there?” Ben asked, swiveling his head towards a small clearing.
“Sure. Anywhere is fine at this point,” Beth replied.
The couple lay their gear on the ground and proceeded to unpack the essentials. “It could be worse, I guess,” said Ben. “It could be raining. Or snowing.”
“Well, aren’t you mister optimistic all of the sudden,” said Beth. She took an LED lantern from her pack and clicked it on, setting it on a large rock nearby. A globe of white light filled the clearing and a sense of relief washed over them both.
“Look, I’m sorry for losing my cool earlier,” said Ben. “First the tire, then getting lost…” He reached out for Beth’s hand. “I just feel like...like it's my job to keep us safe and I felt like I was failing.”
Beth took his hand in hers and smiled. “I know, babe. Don’t worry about it, we’re here and we’re doing this thing. I’m going back to the car to get the food bag, you unpack the tent?”
“Sounds good.”
He watched Beth going back down the path, her headlamp getting smaller and smaller as she went, like she was vanishing before his very eyes. He looked around the clearing with his own light, a chill running down his back, as he thought of the hillbilly he mentioned and the “keep out” sign. He had never been much of a risk-taker before meeting Beth, but she made him want to try new things, to be someone who said “yes” more often than “no.”
But, just because he had begun branching out of his comfort zone didn’t mean he had stopped being cautious. He rifled through his own pack and pulled out a newly-purchased steel hatchet and clipped the leather sheath to his belt.
Upon her return, Ben and Beth set up the tent: snapped the poles into place, secured the nylon to them and staked it all down. After they had rolled out their bedding and lined the tent with blankets, Ben built a stone fire ring out of loose rocks while Beth gathered kindling for a fire.
“Here are the fire-starters,” Ben said, handing her the small, fibrous bricks used to start fires in an instant. “You good here? I’m going to scout out some bigger logs to keep this fire burning all night.”
“Yeah, just don’t be too long. Having not seen anyone else for hours is making me nervous,” replied Beth.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got my hatchet,” Ben said with a smile, unclasping the keen-edged tool. And with that he disappeared into the bleak and bitter darkness.
4
Maybe it was a feeling of independence, or maybe the unshakeable weight of isolation, knowing that in case of emergency, help was hours away. Whatever it was, Ben’s body surged with excitement as he trekked upwards through the wilderness in search of viable firewood. He felt that in this moment he could overcome anything. Despite the increasing cold, he had worked up a sweat in his search.
His headlamp lit the way as he scoured the hillside, the hatchet held firm in case of marauding hillbillies. In his other hand he held a bundle of logs, bound in a tarp strap, just like he’d seen on a camping-hacks website. A few more and he would return to Beth. She probably has the fire started by now, he thought. She had way more patience at starting fires than he did.
Ben continued up the hill towards the ridge. He knew he should double back while searching for more wood, but he wondered what the view was like on the other side. As he crested, the clouds were parting and the silver light of the moon flooded the valley. There in the middle lay the lake.
“Holy shit, there it is,” Ben said. The light bounced off the surface of the lake with a crystalline quality. “Well of course,” he said. “It’s frozen. Lugged that kayak all the way for noth--”
Ben saw movement off to his left and he immediately clicked off his headlamp. He squinted and waited for his eyes to adjust. Then, in the glow of moonlight, he spied a large creature, its fur coat glistening with frost in the night. He couldn’t quite make out what it was until its head raised in alarm.
“An elk,” Ben whispered to himself. He was in awe, it was the first one he had ever seen in person besides the zoo.
As the elk returned its head to grazing on the forest floor, Ben crept forward as quietly as he was able. Wanting to have a better look at the majestic creature, he edged closer and closer, silly with disbelief at how close he had come to the wild beast.
Ben stopped in his tracks as the elk’s head shot up alert once more. Had it finally gotten his scent, he wondered. At that moment the moon disappeared, blanketing the forest in darkness again.
And then he heard it, low at first, deep and guttural like the growling of an engine at the starting line. As the growl became a roar, Ben watched as a giant shape sprung from the darkness, barreling into the petrified animal. The screams of the dying elk pierced the air until suddenly they ceased.
Then, a terrible din rose up in its place: the gnashing of large teeth and shredding of flesh. Ben trembled, unable to move.
His mind raced frantically. Bear mace, he thought. He remembered Beth had suggested he get some for the trip, but after the first store didn’t carry it, he gave up looking.
Before he could remember what advice he’d read about bear encounters, whether it was to yell at them or roll into a ball, the moon came out once more and illuminated the creature. He realized then that the bear mace wouldn’t have helped him anyway. Ten cans of the stuff wouldn’t, he thought.
That’s no bear.
Kneeling above the elk carcass was a hulking creature made of fur, teeth and bone. Like the elk, it bore its own set of dark antlers, but these were notched and knotty with strands of moss hanging from them as if it had been hiding in the foliage or a cave. With its massive claws, it tore flesh from its kill and gulped it down after two or three bites from deadly jaws.
When he saw it fully revealed, its dirty white coat of fur splashed with blood, he couldn’t suppress a gasp.
The beast shot up on two legs as quick as an owl spins its head. The low growl began again as it stared directly at Ben. The light disappeared behind the clouds again, but he could still make out the creature for the faint red glow of its eyes.
Ben suddenly remembered one piece of bear advice he’d read and though it regarded something you weren’t supposed to do, it was the only thing he could do.
Run.
5
“Dammit,” said Beth, watching the small clump of kindling burn, but not take. The firestarters hadn’t taken either, charred but not aflame. The cold was enough outside to hinder a fire, but worse was the air, like a heavy, damp blanket. It must have rained here recently, she thought, for she hadn’t been able to find any dry fuel.
If they couldn’t start a fire, the night would be truly miserable. No hot meal and they would definitely have to sleep in the car, which meant unloading everything and all of it being wet from the morning dew. Except the food, she reminded herself. It had to stay in the car in case of bears.
That reminded her of the bear mace, wishing Ben had found some. He said he went to three different stores, but Beth had her doubts. Patience wasn’t his strong suite.
Then, she heard an elk call in the distance. It sounds so different than on nature shows, she thought. She wondered if Ben saw it.
“Beth!” a voice came shouting out of the black hills a minute later.
She sprung up in surprise and saw Ben’s headlamp bobbing up and down as he ran through the dark woods toward their camp.
“Beth!” he shouted again.
“What is it!” she screamed back.
“Get in the car!” said Ben as he came rushing up to her, spittle flying from his mouth, his breath ragged. “We’ve gotta go!”
“Oh my god, are there really hillbillies up here!”
“No,” Ben said between heavy breaths, “it’s worse than that. Now, c’mon!” He grabbed her by the coat and they dashed for the car.
“What about all our stuff?” Beth asked, still bewildered by Ben’s panic.
“There’s no time, it’s right behind me!”
“What’s right behind you?”
Ben yanked on the driver’s door handle. “Fuck, it’s locked! Where are the--”
“I’ve got them!” Beth screamed, fumbling through her pockets for the keys.
“Hurry up!” Ben shouted.
“I’m trying!” She clicked the button and the couple dove into their seats, slamming their doors behind them. Ben snatched the keys from Beth’s grasp and turned the ignition. His chest felt as if it had caved in when he heard the telltale sound of click, click, click from under the hood. He looked in the rearview mirror and saw the back hatch was open.
“Oh my god, Beth, you left the hatch open! The dome light, it--” Ben sputtered, “drains the battery!”
Beth screamed. “What the hell is that!” She pointed through the windshield at a huge, mass of white fur crashing out of the forest into the clearing of their camp.
“It’s fucking bigfoot! A sasquatch, yeti, whatever!” Ben exclaimed. “It’s a fucking monster!”
“What are we going to do?” Beth pleaded. Ben could hear her beginning to sob with fear. He grabbed her hand and held it tightly.
“I dunno yet, I dunno,” was all he could say.
The blood-covered beast stared directly at their vehicle and stalked menacingly towards it, clouds of hot breath roiling from its open maw. They could feel the slightest of tremors as the weight of the creature disturbed the ground.
Maybe it doesn’t know we’re in here, Ben thought.
The couple watched in horror as it covered the distance in one giant leap, bringing its hands down like a mighty club on the hood of the car. They screamed in unison as metal crunched, glass shattered and plastic splintered.
The beast roared at them in short bursts as it began circling the vehicle, swiping at the painted steel with its claws, even ramming into the back door with its broad shoulder. Inside, Ben and Beth could do nothing but huddle together in the front seat while the car rocked from the blows. As the monster reached the rear, Ben saw its red, glowing eyes squarely in the rearview mirror.
“We’re dead if we stay here,” he said.
“Oh Ben, we’re dead no matter what,” Beth whispered.
“We’ve got to try, Beth!”
The creature grasped the open hatch and began tearing it from the hinges, the metal folding like aluminum foil under its savage strength.
“Now!” shouted Ben, “let’s go!” The couple sprang from their wrecked vehicle, running back in the direction they had come.
“Where are we going, Ben!” screamed Beth as they fled into the darkness.
“The lake,” he said. “We have to get to the lake.”
6
As the couple raced up the hill, lungs burning in the cold air, they could still hear the beast rending the car to pieces.
“The lake?” Beth asked. “We’ll die of hypothermia in seconds!”
“We’re not going into the water,” he said. “We couldn’t even if we wanted, it’s frozen.”
“Frozen! Ok, now I’m really lost.”
“No time to explain,” Ben said. “We’re almost there.”
When they reached the top of the ridge, they paused for a moment to catch their breath. In all the commotion, neither had noticed the clouds were gone now and the moon shone bright upon the frost-covered forest. They could see nearly as well as if it were the middle of the day.
“I don’t hear it anymore,” said Beth suddenly.
“Fuck,” spat Ben. “It’s gotta be right behind us. Hurry!”
Ben and Beth ran with hands grasped firmly in one another's, ducking under low branches and hopping over stones and fallen logs. They dared not look back.
The hard, frozen ground, covered with pine needles and rocks, began to give way to loose dirt and sand and pebbles washed smooth over thousands of years. The trees became thinner and they suddenly found themselves out of the forest and on the beach before the large, lustrous lake.
“Ok,” asked Beth. “Now what?”
They were both hunched over, hands on their knees, drawing deep, labored breaths. Ben looked at his lady. “We cross,” he said without hesitation.
Beth looked dumbfounded. “Ben, I don’t think you’ve thought this through.”
“Well, I’ve never been one for planning.”
The sound of snapping limbs came from out of the forest, followed by a slight vibration they could feel in the soles of their shoes.
“It’s here!” shouted Ben. He grabbed Beth by the arm and ushered them out onto the icy surface. They both nearly fell, but managed to use each other for support and slowly they made it a good distance from the shoreline.
A roar sounded behind them.
“Keep going, I’m right behind you!” shouted Ben. He turned shoreward in time to see the beast barrel forth from the treeline. As it spied Ben on the ice, it let out another roar that echoed throughout the valley.
Ben’s hand went to his side, unclasping the hatchet that hung there. He knelt on the ice, raised the blade high above his head with one hand and brought it down with a clang. Ice chips peppered his face as he brought the hatchet down again and again as he scrambled backwards across the lake, spreading the blows out before him in a wide arc.
“Ben!” he heard Beth scream. Looking up he saw the creature was on the ice and stalking towards him, its red eyes and dark maw hungering for him.
“C’mon, you bastard!” Ben screamed, hacking furiously at the frozen surface.
As he tried in vain to get to his feet, Ben realized the beast was upon him. He could smell its thick, heavy breath, rancid from rotting flesh. He recognized the same growl from it now that he had heard before it burst upon the elk. One last time he raised the hatchet and struck the ice, the sharp head biting deep.
Then he heard it, a resonate crack, like the snap of a bridge cable, rippling below him.
And suddenly, the monster loomed not so large before him as it began to sink into the breaking ice, thrashing and clawing at the air. Ben felt a hard tug around his neck and panicked until he realized it was Beth, grabbing him by the hood of his coat and dragging him away from the hole in the ice.
Ben and Beth watched as the beast disappeared below the surface, leaving no trace that it had ever been there. Seconds later, the only sound other than the desolate whisper of the winter wind was the couple sobbing quietly, wrapped in each other’s arms, sitting on the bank of the frozen lake.