Will's Hunt

Recently I entered a contest to write some short fiction inspired by an image.  Though my entry was not selected as the winning story I was still quite happy with how it turned out so I thought I would share it here.  I don't have access to the photo any longer but imagine if you will...

A snowy road cut into the slope of a hill, curving through a forest.  There is sunlight streaming through the branches, and a man in the distance, walking towards the camera.  He walks in the ruts formed by tire treads, animal tracks cross his path and footprints are already visible in the snow.

She can’t possibly think I’m that stupid, he thinks as he trudges up the road.  Week-old snow crunches beneath his boots as he follows the frantic footsteps of his wife.  She knows this is his element.  He could track a dear in midsummer, so she won’t be difficult to find, but what an inconvenience.  I spend a full day out collecting food and supplies for her and this is how she repays me? 

He breathes in deeply, crisp air prickling the inside of his nostrils.  Though the day will be warm for February the air causes him to shiver briefly.  A lot of this snow won’t last much longer but at least she won’t freeze.  He leans down to check the rabbit tracks crossing the road.  Looks like a good-sized hare.  He makes a mental note to come back with a trap after Erica is safe in the cabin. 

He can see where she has tried to walk in the tracks left from his truck.  Puzzling.  Was she attempting to disguise her steps or was she just saving energy walking in the packed snow?  Most likely she wasn’t even bothering to hide.  There’s only one way out, after all.  She must have counted on having more time. 

He sees her prints deviate to the side of the road where she must have sat to slide down the slope into the trees.  He turns and lowers himself down the ridge with a long stride.  He can tell she staggered unsteadily as she struggled farther from the road.  Interesting.  It seems she stopped behind a larger tree and turned to face the lane.  Standing in her prints he lifts his head to see through her eyes.  From this vantage point she would have been too low for him to see.  She must have heard his truck coming and hid.  That means it’s only been about 40 minutes since she was in this exact location.  It’s a good thing he cut this run short. 

The snow is thinner under the trees and as it melts she’ll be more difficult to track.  She must have hoped for a good thaw to disguise her escape.  Even a few more hours of sun would have significantly hindered his search.

How far could she have gotten in 40 minutes of waddling through the underbrush?  This is quite a distance for her to walk in her condition.  He wonders how much she will fight when he finds her.  Why didn’t he bring rope?  He had been too frantic to think clearly.

He tramples the underbrush in frustration, not bothering to deaden the noise he is making.  It doesn’t matter, she has no place to go.  There is nowhere he won’t find her.  He feels his anger rise sharply.  After everything he’s done to prove his love for her, why would she leave him?  Doesn’t she remember how happy they were alone here together and how could she put our baby at risk?

He walks swiftly, closing in.  The ground dips before him and he catches a bright glimpse of the red of her jacket between the trees.  Taking more care to walk softly, he approaches her cautiously.   She is leaning, hunched over, her back towards him, pressed into the wide trunk of a spruce.  The only sound is the gentle rustling of the upper branches and the crunch of his steps.  He sees her shoulders shaking and, drawing closer, hears her sobs.  Instantly he is flooded with fear.  “Erica,” he calls, “are you hurt?”  She doesn’t turn towards his voice, only slumps to the ground.  “Please, please,” she begs.  “Don’t do this.  Don’t make me go back.”

Though the day is still cool he feels the heat of his rage wash over him.  Lashing out at the closest thing to him he feels the sting as his fist connects with the trunk beside him.  “ISN’T ANYTHING ENOUGH FOR YOU?” He yells, rubbing his tender knuckles.  A strangled sob escapes her as she cowers away from him, a protective hand covering her large, rounded belly.  

She is afraid of him.  The realization washes over him.  How can she possibly doubt him when he has gone to extravagant lengths to prove his love for her?  He will NOT let her manipulate him like this.  She knows he would never hurt her unless he was given no choice and, of course, he would never risk hurting the baby.  It’s her decision to come along peacefully or make me drag her back.

He picks up the pack lying at her feet, to test its weight.  She packed a lot of supplies.  How long has she been hiding items away?  Inspecting her extremities for any sign of injury, he pulls her roughly to her feet.  “Let’s go.  We have a long walk back now, thanks to you.” 

She looks up at him, red, puffy eyes searching his, questioning.  She takes a deep breath, hiccoughing slightly with the remnant of her tears and straightens to her full height.  “Alright,” she says, wrenching her arm out of his grasp and walking away with as much dignity as she can muster.  “I guess parole is revoked.  Back to the Prison.”

He’s blinded by rage.  One second, she is steps in front of him, the next he finds himself shaking with adrenaline, his hand wrapped tightly around her throat, her face red with exertion, fists pounding on his forearms.  He leans in close to her, their noses almost touching.  She stiffens, eyes wide with fear.  “If you think this has been a prison already you just wait.  Things can get much worse for you, believe me.  You are my WIFE and you are NOT going anywhere.”  She gasps for breath as he slowly releases her.  Silently she nods in compliance, large doe eyes cautiously watching him.  “I’m sorry I had to do that.”  He says calmly and taking her hand begins to lead her back to the road.