Chapter 12 | THE BIRDS

As the light grows increasingly brighter and warm color floods the sky, Henry and I walk fast down the street towards Matthais' house.

We haven't said a word to each other, which I appreciate. I don't know what to say, anyways.

I'm not sure which house belongs to Matthias, but I suppose it will have to have a big yard for the sled dogs.

We walk for about 5 more minutes, towards the end of the village.

The houses here are all built like the tavern, except for the fact that they have many more windows. Their front yards all look to be about equal size.

Except for the one we're nearing, the one at the very end of town. The one where Henry turns to walk towards.

It's a long, icy driveway, and I almost slip and break my tailbone a couple of times.

Henry pretends to not notice my klutzy behavior, but I can tell from the way he shakes his head lightly that he does.

When we finally get to the house, he knocks on the door twice.

The door opens a few moments later, and a short indigenous man who looks to be in his forties steps out dressed even more heavily than me.

After I notice how he's carrying a large black duffle bag that is almost as big as he is, we make eye contact.

He opens his mouth, "John's niece, I'm guessing. I know, I know, I'm short. But, I'm also the man who will get you to that hermit in the woods who you're so desperate to meet. So, that being said, don't mention anything about my height, and I'll make sure you at least have a chance to talk to the probably sociopathic loner. Who, might I add, will probably just end up attacking you with arrows like the stupid sadist he is."

I...don't know what to say. So, I opt for a very complicated and challenging word.

"...Okay," I reply.

Did I look like I thought his height was that noticeable? Was I staring that directly?

"You know he punched me once?" He says.

"I-"

He continues on, "Honestly, why do you even want to go to him? I mean, I get it, for your uncle. That's why I'm helping you out. For your uncle. But, I mean, why would you deliberately even go within a thousand miles of the man?"

"You're within a thousand miles of him."

He sighs, "Yes, well, that's different."

"How so? And why'd he punch you?"

"It just is. Now come along, you have to meet the dogs and learn a few basic things. You can handle learning a few basic things, can't you?"

"...Yeah."

He just nods absentmindedly and starts walking around the house to a wooden gate.

When it's opened, over two dozen dogs are revealed. They all smile and wag their tails, looking absolutely thrilled for our arrival.

Some look especially ecstatic, as they're already hooked up to the two sleds and everything; they know they're going on a trip, and they can't wait.

I recognize most to be Alaskan huskies and Alaskan malamutes, however, some seem to be mutts.

Matthias leads me over into the middle of the yard and to the sled.

One by one, I'm introduced to each dog. Except for one, all are extremely friendly, licking at my chopper-covered hands excessively, tails wagging a million miles an hour. My favorite is an Alaskan malamute named Lacy. She's a red husky, with the faint mark of a crescent moon outlined on her chest. When I meet her, she howls, which ends up sounding very much like a 'hello.' Matthias says she does that a lot.

The hesitant exception to the friendly dogs, however, is the only other red husky: Balto.

Frankly, I think the name was wasted on him. Balto never would have growled at me and looked away, almost as if I'm just too ugly for him to even glance at. With his composure, you'd think that he considered himself a king. Head held high, a determined look to him. Of course, he's one of the lead dogs. I suppose he has to be like that to help keep the other dogs going.

But, still. I like to take things personally, you see.

After I've been associated with all of the dogs, I'm given an orientation, even though I'll just be riding. Matthias claims that I need to know the information in case something were to happen, and I'd have to drive the sled. Thus, I'm taught to stand upright on the sled and how to stop. I already knew the basic commands from past research, but I still have to go over them again.

When I've been taught all that Matthias wants me to know, we're ready to head out to the woods.

Matthias will be driving one sled, and I'll be riding with him. Henry will take the other one that carries all of our bags.

All the while, I can't stop smiling for some reason.

I adore dogs, and this overall experience has just been so fun for me.

However, I know that I probably won't be smiling in an hour or so.

About an hour from now, we shall have arrived at the place where I'm to begin my forest trek. I have no clue as to how long I'll have to walk before I most likely get bombarded with arrows.

When the dogs that will be running are moved out of Matthias' yard, and the gate is closed behind us, the sleds take off at his command. We start moving out of his driveway and onto a nearby path that I've just only noticed. It's narrow, so we're traveling with one sled in front of the other; Henry's behind us.

The piercing air feels even colder with the wind rushing against my face, causing me to try and put as much of my head as I can into my jacket.

We travel on the path for a while, not slowing or stopping at all, as it's quite a straight path.

And then, there's a turn to the right, and all I see is a white nothing and a dark outline in the distance.

"A lake?" I question loudly.

"Yes," Matthias answers, and my mind recalls my uncle's letter.

Moving on water without moving your body at all.

And I suppose if it were summertime, I would take a canoe or something.

My uncle really did think this through.

But, honestly, the lengths I'm going to in order to meet his friend? Ridiculous. This guy better talk to me, or else I'll take one of his flimsy arrows and throw it right back at him!

That is if I'm even alive to do that.

Who knows? Maybe an arrow will actually hit me, and then we'll all be lucky.

We start across the lake, and even though I was told that the ice is thick enough for us to travel on, I'm still aware of my fear that we could fall through.

I try to avoid focusing on that possibility, however, and start thinking ahead about what I'll say to Vaughn.

Hi, I'm Mikaere, John Agner's niece. I've just been framed for murder, and I'm currently on the run from the law. So, could you, like, house a fugitive for an unknown amount of time and help her to find out what happened to her uncle while you're at it?

Well, I might as well say something like that. Be blunt like I always am and just cut right to the chase.

As time passes, the distant dark horizon draws ever closer.

The impending treeline brings forth a vast forest that goes on for as far as I can see. There's a couple of mountainous landforms in the distance; I can also barely make out a couple of wooded buttes.

The sled dogs push consistently forward, strongly but smoothly pulling us through the snow, and I'm absolutely living for the whole Balto experience. I remember always reading those stories and watching those movies, an essential part of my early childhood.

Often, my parents would watch them with me.

I smile faintly as I recall those memories of them promising to one day take me to see the starting point of The Last Great Race. We'd try the Alaskan crab cakes and giant turkey legs from the food vendors, and then later, we'd try to see the Northern Lights.

I always looked forward to that. Up until they died, that is.

As I reminisce, I see the time has flown by, and we've reached the woods.

We stop right inside of the treeline, near the edge of the lake, and I immediately get off the sled, standing up. I grab my duffle bag from where Henry is and swing it onto my right shoulder, feeling scared butterflies erupt and start fluttering inside of me.

I'll be on my own now.

Alone in the woods until I get swarmed by ravens and arrows are shot at me. What if I get mauled and devoured before Vaughn even finds me? That would honestly be such a disappointment. To come so far only to die from some wolves?

I mean, I know I could climb a tree, but could I really? These layers make it impossible to move around freely.

"You'll get warm wearing all of those layers," Matthias comments.

I nod, "I'll take off the sweatshirt if I have to."

"Okay."

Turning around, I see Henry handing me an ax.

I take it and say, "Thanks, you two."

Henry nods, and Matthias says, "Good luck with the sociopath."

"Is he really that bad?"

Matthias nods subtly as Henry shakes his head.

"Okay..."

"We'll be staying here for the night in case he turns you away, and you have to double back. You should be able to find your way back since all you need to do is walk straight into the woods," Henry informs me.

"Just...straight out?"

"Don't deviate from that path."

"Understood. Thank you for this. Honestly."

"Don't thank us yet," Matthias replies. "You'll probably be back here before the night is over."

I nod, "Thanks for the positivity."

"You're welcome."

I wave goodbye to the two men, breathing in deeply as I turn around.

Beginning my trek forward through the snow, I keep my eyes open and try my best to stay aware of my surroundings.

I keep on steadily, not glancing back. I just keep looking forward.

And, as I draw farther and farther away from the lake, I begin to feel more nervous about what's going to happen.

I'm guessing it's like 10:30 am, and I'd assume there'd be cute little songbirds chirping in the trees as the sunlight gives an ethereal glow to the forest.

However, as I trudge forward, there are no cute little songbirds. There is no ethereal glow.

There is only a gut feeling telling me that something is going to happen. Maybe that's just my dramatic imagination, though. Give it a little information to go on, and suddenly everything is stalking me out here.

There are a multitude of trees of varying kinds. Evergreen, pine, oak, etc.

Thankfully some do, in fact, look like I could manage to scramble up one of them if I have to.

Hopefully, I won't have to try, though.

I don't know how much I've walked already, and I have absolutely no clue as to how much farther I have to go.

However, the walk isn't as dull as I'd thought it might be.

While I may not see any animals, there's imprinted evidence of them being here. Tracks litter the snow, scattering in each and every direction, crossing paths with one another. I see deer tracks and rabbit tracks mainly, and thankfully, no wolf prints are visible.

I keep paying attention to the invisible wildlife around me as I make sure to keep my path linear. I'm certainly not about to get lost out here.

After what feels like hours of walking, I stop and set the ax down in the snow, taking my phone out of my duffle bag for a second to check the time. I find that it's a little past noon.

And somehow, just by knowing how long I've walked already, I start to feel as if I need a break. Which is pretty pathetic, because I'm not walking fast at all. And, even if I wanted to walk fast, these snow pants prohibit it.

Putting my phone away and exchanging it for a bottle of water, I take a sip, my eyes scanning the area around me.

I really do wish I would see at least one animal.

A non-dangerous one, I mean. Of course, it would probably be just my luck that a bear comes out of hibernation only to attack me.

Imagine the headline: 'HERO RESIDENT BEAR STOPS HIBERNATING JUST TO STOP TEENAGE FUGITIVE.'

Sighing, I put the bottle of water away again, picking up the ax. I begin to walk forward once more.

Honestly, how is this Vaughn guy even going to find me? It's literally a vast forest in Alaska, and he doesn't know that I'm coming.

I know that there was something with the birds, but how does that even work? Like, what?

Finally, after walking for a bit longer, I see a small, white fluffy thing out of the corner of my eye. The precious little bunny sits off to my right, looking absolutely paralyzed.

I would've figured that it would've ran away from me by now instead of freezing up. Because it's white and blends into the snow, I almost didn't see it at first. It was its eyes that caught my attention, their pleading look melting my heart that certainly feels frozen thanks to the cold.

It probably was hoping that I wouldn't see it, that its camouflage would work.

Aw, poor thing. It looks so scared.

Suddenly, a dark shadow flies overhead, and I instantly realize that the young bunny wasn't hiding from me.

It was hiding from the birds.

The birds.

They come out of absolutely nowhere.

Ravens appear, flying from all directions, right towards me.

They're loud, too.

However, I don't have time to think about why or how, or how many there are.

Instead, I instantly drop to the ground on all fours, not about to have them attack my face. I put my duffle bag over my head and neck as a shield from their pecking.

And I mean, I guess it works?

Their incessant pecking and cawing continue, but thankfully they're unable to actually cause any damage.

Yay for layers!

I stay crouched over with the tip of my nose pressed lightly into the snow, promising a red-nosed clown look when I finally stand up again.

When the birds find you, then my friend will find you.

Good Lord, how far away does Vaughn live? How long will I have to wait?

I mean, I know that the birds literally just attacked me, but I don't think I can stay crouched over into this terrible position for very long.

And, what if a wolf comes along or something? I'm literally just waiting for something to pounce on me.

After I count over a dozen minutes away, I can feel my back begin to hate me. This Vaughn guy really is so slow.

I hiss as one raven that's standing on my back starts jumping up and down on me. "Get off, you stupid bird!"

In response, I feel my chopper covered hand get pecked at repeatedly.

"Caw," it says.

"Shut up."

"Caw."

"Oh my God, I am not talking to a bird right now," I reply, then add, "Or ever, for that matter."

"Caw."

"Honestly, what even is this? Don't caw at me."

"Caw."

"Stop."

I just know that it's about to say something back before I hear a light but very audible thump from behind me, and the sound of snow being crunched beneath boots.

Oh, no.

And then, I feel the weight lift off me, and the sound of wings flapping as all the ravens simply just fly away.

And instantly, I know that my uncle's mysterious friend Vaughn has arrived.