Page 35 of Last Destination

She staggered up from Charlie’s body, and bile crept up my throat at the thick string of red saliva she left in her wake. Papa had drilled us about all animals in these forests, and black bears were normally skittish around humans. This one bared its teeth, exposing two sharp incisors that could tear me in two.

She was feral. Rabies, maybe. She stumbled as she moved toward me, snarling and snapping her teeth with vicious intent.

Do not run, Marley. Whatever you do, don’t run.

But that advice was for normal bears, not bears battling a brain disease. The meaty smell of her hot breath wafted toward me with every step, and I knew if she got hold of me, I wouldn’t make it back to Papa — or anywhere at all.

Against all advice, I turned on my heel and ran in the exact direction I’d come. My heart pounded in my throat, and I was too filled with adrenaline and fear to consider what I was leaving behind. The bear galloped behind me, and even though she was uncoordinated, she was fast — so much faster than me in slippers. The plastic bag crinkled in my hand with each movement and I lost a few seconds grabbing the pocket knife in my fist before abandoning the bag.

He’d left us no bear mace, nothing to protect us from known inhabitants in the woods. Maybe Papa really did want us to die, and this was the easiest way to do it.

I veered a hard right, hoping to confuse the bear, but she was back on my heels in seconds. The stench of her breath was so powerful my stomach revolted and I gagged. Veering right again, I traveled in a circle, almost on my way back to Charlie.

My slipper caught on a tree branch and I tumbled to the ground with a painful jolt. I rolled over, flipping out the knife in my palm.

The bear landed on top of me, a crushing blow on my spine. She bore down, snapping her teeth just above my head.

The pocket knife would do nothing to get through her fur and fat. I needed to get to the most vulnerable place on her body.

Bracing my left arm under her snapping chin for the tiniest bit of leverage, I raised the knife above my head and stabbed wildly at her face, gripping the hilt so tightly it cut into my palm. She roared when the blade sliced through the sensitive tip of her nose. When she reared back, I shoved my heels into the dirt to push the slightest bit forward, and whipped my head to the side just in time to avoid a savage bite. Before she could try again, I plunged the knife into her left eye with so much force I felt the eyeball pop in its socket before the knife cut through to brain tissue.

Her agonized roar vibrated through my bone marrow, and she swayed on top of me. Her saliva dripped all over the front of my shirt and a short but lethal claw ripped across my thigh. White-hot pain tore through the muscle the same moment the weight of her body fell to my opposite side in a heap.

Not waiting for round two, I scrambled up. My ribs were bruised and several bones potentially fractured from the way she’d held her weight on me. I raced into the water to wash her drool off my skin. If I didn’t, I would be foaming at the mouth within days.

The stream was only a foot deep at best. Hot lava — the dregs of waning adrenaline and agony — coursed through my veins while I removed my slippers, pajama top, and pants. The sticky residue of congealing blood had plastered them to my thigh. I stifled a scream when the cotton stuck to the jagged torn tissue, but clenched my teeth and stepped into the frigid water. With mechanical movements, I used my underwear as a cloth, and scrubbed every inch of my skin with blue fingertips. Then I scooped handfuls of water to clean out the wound. Hot tears kept my face warm while I whimpered with pain. The sight of white tendon peeking out between the angry red folds of muscle filled my throat with more tears.

I pulled myself out of the water, and with clattering teeth, I ignored the two corpses laying silent beside me. I needed a tourniquet. Ripping the cleanest part of my pant leg from my pajama bottoms with my incisors, I folded the fabric and wrapped it tightly around my thigh. Shivering and naked, I blankly stared at my motionless twin on the ground ten feet away.

Charlie was dead. My sister was dead because I’d abandoned her. Because I’d been too stubborn to convince her to come with me. Because she’d been too consumed by her hate for our father, instead of her love for me, to keep going.

I limped to her, my body wracked by sobs to rival the shivers. My naked body was turning purple. Without her clothes, I wouldn’t survive. Hypothermia versus rabies exposure — an impossible choice. Lowering to the ground, I linked our fingers together just like we always did in our sleep.

“You said you would never leave me,” I accused through my sniffles as hiccups wracked my chest. “You said you would never leave me, Charlie.”

I refused to look at the gaping hole in her jaw, her matted black hair impossibly darker as viscous red pooled beneath her head. I spoke to our hands, desperate for her touch.

When my hands and feet tingled to the point of warmth, I knew I was out of time.

“I’m so sorry, Charlie.” I stuttered the words through shattered breaths while I pulled off her shorts and pulled them over my legs. I unbuttoned her cotton top and gently slid it off her shoulders, grateful it had very little blood along its collar. I slid it over my own, buttoning it back up over my chest with trembling hands. My twin lay on the ground in her underwear — the rose-gold compass necklace flashing in the sun against her bare skin.

The compass. The gift I’d given her when we turned sixteen.

“You’re my north star,” I’d told her. “As long as I have you, I know where I’m going.”

Where was I going now that I didn’t have Charlie? My heart squeezed as if the bear had ripped it out of my chest, and bile shot up from my stomach before I could stop it escaping. I’d barely turned my head before it sprayed the frosted ground beside me, combining with the stench of death, decay, and disease.

I couldn’t just leave Charlie here to be food for another creature. But I couldn’t take her with me.

Holding my breath, I reached around her bloody neck and unclasped the jewelry. My aching fingers were hardly able to secure it around my throat.

“You’ll always be with me,” I sobbed and pushed off from the ground. My thigh burned with the pain of a thousand suns, but my heart pained even more. “You’ll never leave me, Charlie.”

Sliding the slippers back onto my feet, I limped forward, leaving my twin and my soul behind.

A muffled scream woke me from my nightmare. I jolted awake to see shadows dancing in the trees behind us, dragging Tessa from her perch into the blackness beyond. The whites of her eyes glowed in the minimal light of the encampment, radiating with potent terror as she tried to bite the hand of her attacker. Another person — a man, by the size and shape of his form — came into view, swinging his fist in a wide arc toward her temple.

“Madman!” I whisper-yelled into the body behind me, but he was already awake and dropping me from his lap as he leaped to attention. Jamie was scrambling to get to Tessa, too, stumbling up in a half-asleep daze and reaching for her ankle. He tripped over his own feet and his fingertips just missed her skin. Nikki and Ambrose roused from sleep at the same moment, Ambrose’s head dropping into thin air from our flight attendant’s shoulder as Nikki shot up in panic.