February 21st, 2013
Devils Head, Colorado
1
They hadn't gone away. Cold and hungry, they were determined not to let Man regain control, and even a lone female was a threat to this new awareness. Mother Nature, having recognized the chance for a different outcome, was uniting species all over the world - most of them natural enemies - and her army was relentless, growing.
Arrrooooooo!
Samantha's eyes flew open and she froze, listening intently. After a minute, she told herself to relax, that she had more pressing problems than wolves or coyotes outside.
The pain in her leg was agony, and her hands and feet were so cold she couldn't feel anything in them but pain. It was dark and drafty in the cabin, the flames long gone, and she forced herself to scoot over to the fireplace.
Sam clenched her teeth at every jar of her leg against the hard floor, knowing she needed heat, but all she could really think about was how much she wanted to shoot up. It was the same craving making her almost drool when she woke in the darkness with only the flaring misery to comfort her, so she made herself wait. She would not come out of the War an addict.
It was frigid in the hunting lodge, but the woman was thankful that the front glass windows had survived the cold wave with only small cracks. The thick line of birch and evergreens in front of the cabin had taken the brunt. And the birds, she thought, shuddering.
Sam hadn't realized the birds were there until she watched them freeze. The larks were huddled on an upper branch for warmth, and it had been awful, seeing their eyes as it happened. She could still just make out the faint yellow hue of their snow-covered bodies. It was like seeing her own fate, had the windows not held.
It was growing warmer now, enough that she could even go to the outhouse, and while she was glad the freeze had let up, there was still plenty of nasty weather she would have to travel through. The feeling of wrongness invading this place said it wasn't safe here anymore. She needed to get moving again.
Adapting to the thick, groggy feeling of the morphine upon waking each day, she slowly stacked some of her dwindling supply of wood into the charred pit. Finished, her eyes surveyed the dark corner, glad to see the crackers were gone. She had noticed the animal cage in the SUV's backseat as she'd come up the driveway to the hunting lodge, but it hadn't registered and she'd mistaken the ferret for a mouse in her fear of doing self-surgery. Its brown and white fur had hung sadly from its narrow frame, and she'd been feeding it whenever she ate, leaving water out. If it would come to her, maybe she would have a companion.