Chapter 7

It had been three days since Chase found his first catch torn to shreds, every time he went out to check he grew more and more weary. He returned empty handed again.

This time he was carrying Elie on his back. Although she had started to get used to walking, and her stamina had definitely improved, she couldn't overcome her small stature. She would have to take two or three steps for every one that Chase took, and eventually she got a blister on her foot.

He pricked it and drained the fluid before tying down some Barrow Nettles with a piece of string. Elie had squirmed from the itchiness trying to get away from it, but Chase held onto her foot until it started to numb. As a result Elie currently wasn't talking to him.

They stepped into their shelter. Over the past few days Chase made a larger shelter by using rope at the joints to tie the branches together. It was still very basic, but it offered them more protection and space inside. There was enough room now for them to move around inside and sit up if they wanted to, however, it was still more reminiscent of a traditional tent than a house.

He made the fire somewhat closer to the shelter so that the warmth of the flames reached them without the fear of an ember setting their bedding alight. He lost track of how many times they had eaten fish at this point. Even he was starting to grow sick of it. Chase tried to improve the food by adding some of the plants he had tested and boiling it in their makeshift stone pot with the fish, giving it a more pleasant aroma and texture. Unfortunately it seemed his experiment had not transferred over to taste very well as Elie was refusing to eat. She eventually came around once her stomach started protesting, but she seemed to loathe every bite.

Elie spent most of her time doing useful odd jobs, like digging a pit for the fire or replacing their bedding when it got wet. Recently Chase had given her the job of making a small basket he could wear on his belt. She sat there weaving the softened bark as he instructed. Elie seemed to enjoy this type of work the most, as she wouldn't complain nearly as much when doing it. As the outer bark dried it hardened, giving the basket a more rugged appearance.

It wasn't particularly well made, but it could hold things and didn't fall apart immediately. Most importantly it could be used to free up his hands. It wasn't safe for him to go around in the forest without at least one hand free to fight back in the event something happens. He would be able to gather more edible plants for their meals rather than the meagre handful he used for the watered down fish soup.

They couldn't afford to wait for the unknown predators of the forest to eat their fill so that they could catch something. Chase was considering waiting nearby to drag the catch away as soon as it was caught. At worst they could abandon their catch and run away back to the river.

Chase spent the rest of the day preparing, his target was the game trail he had seen. He was aiming to catch a deer, with some luck it would feed them for several days. To drag an animal that large alone he would need a pulling harness, so he spent the rest of the day putting it together, complete with makeshift shoulder straps so that he could drag the carcass behind him.

After finishing, he made his way towards the shelter where Elie was already nodding off. The demon in his dreams hadn't returned since last time and the plants that grew in their sleep didn't revisit them. It was a strangely peaceful few days.

Elie was constantly yawning because of their doubly early start to the next day. Her sleepiness immediately disappeared as soon as they got into the river to clean up.

"You have to be as clean as possible, we don't want our prey to catch our scent." Chase explained to the disgruntled Elie.

After warming up by the fire and redressing Elie's blister, they set off for the day towards the snare on the game trail. Chase looked for a place downwind of the snare where they could wait. He took some string and wrapped small branches and shrubbery around his arms and legs before rubbing a handful of dirt on any exposed skin, he did the same for Elie who was complaining, "But we just cleaned!"

"Are you hungry?" He asked seemingly out of nowhere.

Elie nodded, she had had enough of fish, smoked, grilled or boiled, it was starting to become unpalatable.

"Then, please. Just do what I'm telling you, then maybe, just maybe, we can eat something other than fish." It didn't take much convincing for Elie to listen to him, and soon she looked no different to a short and stubby shrub from a distance.

He crouched down and waited for his prey with hungry eyes. It had been over a week since his last hearty meal. It wasn't just Elie that was growing tired of fish.

They lay in hiding, patiently waiting for something to get caught in the trap. Chase felt very calm, like he had found some piece of home out here in the forest. After some time his legs felt numb from the kneeling, he had to be ready to spring out once he saw something.

In the meantime Elie was getting comfortable and sat cross legged, trying to scratch all the itches from leaves and bits of debris on her skin. "When are we going to eat?" She asked, scratching her nose.

"When we catch something."

"When is that?"

"I don't know." He said, trying to stay focused.

"Why don't you know?"

"Because if you keep talking and moving around, you will scare off anything that comes near the trap." Said Chase, as if on cue Elie stopped speaking and tried to scratch the itching as quietly and with as little movement as possible.

The first minutes passed slowly, but as Chase sat there the forest seemed to rush past him and the hours became less burdensome. Elie tried to copy her father with limited success, sitting still like this was an eternity for her. She wanted to express her discomfort but the thought of food made her salivate. If they were lucky they might catch a beef bun, or strawberries. Her mind drifted as her imagination ran wild.

The sound of grass rustling made both of them alert, snapping them out of their trance. A doe was walking along the game trail, grazing as it went. Chase was tense, praying that it would walk through the snare. At first it looked like it was heading towards it, before turning to the side and nibbling on something it found in the grass.

Chase was clenching his fist around the spear to stop himself from jittering out of nervousness. Eventually the doe moved to look for more food and stepped into the snare pulling the loop shut around its waist. It started to struggle and after finding itself trapped and began to frantically run forward, hoping to undo its restraints.

After a dozen seconds the rope started to fray against the bark of the tree, giving the animal hope to escape. Chase, in his fear of losing his catch, ran forward to try and stop it from escaping. The doe kicked its hind legs at him when it saw him approach, it flailed and fought, its hooves reaching up almost to eye level. He tried to stab it, only for the spear to receive the full brunt of a kick, causing the end to snap off and shoot towards his head, it whistled as it hit the empty air next to him.

Without hesitation he tossed the spear aside and pulled out his bone blade and thrust it into the body of the deer, just under the ribcage. He pushed it in as deep as it could go. The animal thrashed around wildly causing blood to spurt out all over him, the beast's leg swung around violently looking for a target, every time it missed the thrashing became more desperate, until finally it stopped.

Chase didn't pull the blade out until he saw the beast stop breathing. When it grew still he unplugged the hole he had just made and a small popping sound was heard before blood poured out. Chase's chest heaved, but his work wasn't done yet. He had to drag away his catch as quickly as he could. Elie hadn't moved and stared at her father with a faint hint of fear. The unfamiliar smell of blood repelled her.

They had gotten lucky, if they had come across a stag this wouldn't have been nearly as straightforward, it likely wouldn't have gone between the trees if it was a stag, and even if it did, the added strength and weight would have allowed it to break through the snare.

He looked at the remains of his spear and cursed under his breath. His racing heart eventually calmed down enough for him to hear himself think.

Chase wiped the blood off his bone blade with some leaves before putting it back on his belt. He went round to the front so that he could cut the snare loose. The head of the doe hung limp, its eyes rolled back. Chase didn't pay it any mind, he reached out to the snare with practised motions, trying to untangle the doe from its surroundings.

When he moved to cut the rope on the other side of its head he felt a sharp pain in his forearm only to see the beady-eyed doe biting viscously into his arm. His right arm. The one holding the knife.

His first instinct was to yank his arm away. He soon realised what a mistake this was. The teeth of the deer seemed to only dig deeper the more he struggled, causing him to drop his knife from the pain, and the closer he looked at the mouth of the deer the more he wanted to pull away. There were rows of wolf-like teeth, long canines followed by similarly sharp barbs as it went further back.

Hot blood from his arm mingled with the drool of the monster in front of him, making him shudder uncontrollably. He tried to reach for the knife with his other hand but the deer had kicked it away. He looked at the deer with a new-found fear. It wasn't a dumb beast to be taken as prey, but a cunning predator who could plan.

All he could do was attack whatever was in reach with his free hand, eyes, nose, ears, they were all targets. He punched and clawed at the deer's head, but no matter what he did the beast just wouldn't let go. It almost seemed like the deer was smiling as it enjoyed watching him struggle, knowing that even if it died here it would have enacted revenge on its hunter.

He heard a distant screaming noise before a small bone knife lodged itself into the jaw of the monster. Then it pulled out and stabbed again. At the third stab the vice-like grip on his arm went slack. Even after Chase got his arm out, laying on the ground clutching his wound, the stabbing didn't stop, even after the head hung limp once again, this time mauled until its features were indiscernible, the stabbing didn't stop.

It took Chase grabbing Elie's arm to get her to stop stabbing. Her small hands were drenched in blood and flecks of red hid amongst her freckles. There was a blank look on her face as she turned to see that her father was out, and that the deer was dead.

"Everything is fine now Elie, you can stop."

And as he stared into her unshaking eyes, he witnessed the spark of innocence that every child is born with - get extinguished.