Snow Blind

Snow all around, coming down with such fervour, almost like the sky is bleeding white. The flakes look beautiful, but can be deadly when surrounded by so much of it.

The view ahead is a complete blanket of white, not even the trees are visible and he knows that they are only a few yards away.

It’s freezing, the icy chill of the cold slicing to the bone a lot more than he thought possible.

One step at a time. One more step. Clinging to the thought as each foot clunks into the thick snow. It reaches to his knees every time and he’s fearful that each step will be his last. He had covered his face up with a bandana, but it only helped a little, offering no real protection from the cold. The snow turning to ice on his eyebrows already.

Blinking, but never really opening his eyes much due to so much snow, he trudges through the icy landscape, desperate to find a way out of this valley. But he can’t find his way if he can’t see.

Shivering, he pulls a compass out of his pocket. Raising it close to his face so he can see it better, then looks up in a North-Easterly direction. The last time he looked at his map said that there is a road some miles off that way. So, he puts it away and presses onwards.

A shape in the fog of snow ahead.

He halts for a moment and then realises it’s a tree. Head down, he pushes on until reaching the tree, to lean against it and catch his breath. Ryan’s eyes grow so heavy, like lead weights that want to slam shut and be done with it all. He leans hard against the tree and slides down into the snow.

The memory of the crash seemed so long ago now. The suddenness of it, the plane going down so fast, the screams of the passengers as it hit the snow near the frozen lake. He had no idea how he managed to survive and unharmed, but he did and was lucky enough to find a compass in the wreckage and a map too.

A shadow flits across the landscape in front of him.

He couldn’t make out what it was, but it was just visible enough in the corner of his eye to see.

There it is again, this time moving in the opposite direction. Standing out from the distinct white blanket that coats the world. Ryan’s heart is pumping harder now. Fear taking over him and he can feel his body getting warmer from the blood, but a cold dread rising up with it.

Silence.

Nothing’s there. I must’ve imagined it. He tells himself.

The beauty of the falling snow should be enough to inspire him to play in it like when he was a child, but now is no time to play, his very life depends on getting out of here.

The shadow flits past him again, this time in plain sight. It’s tall, not an animal but maybe a man. it's difficult to tell. This time Ryan urges himself up, turning in the direction he was aiming before and runs as fast as he can. The snow proving much harder to move in than before and was getting deeper by the minute.

His lungs hurt, like the cold air is stabbing him from within with every breath. His eyes are going to freeze open if he doesn’t get away soon or find shelter.

Ryan stumbles suddenly. Falling face first into a gap in the snow. It takes him a moment to lift his head and see that he landed in a small ravine made in the snow. Like someone had cleared it going off to each side. As he twists to look to his left, the shadow sprints past him, just off to the side of his vision. He pushes himself up with great effort, heaving with every fibre of his being to get back to his feet, then reaches into his pocket to find the compass, but it isn’t there.

That feeling of fear is growing now, like a cancer threatening to doom him and it’s matched with pure dread. The compass must have fallen out when he fell, but there was no time to get it now. So, he pushes back into the snow and continues forward.

Another shadow. Then another and another. Several of them running just off to the side of him, moving impossibly fast in the snow. Then it dawns on him, they made the track in the snow.

Oh no. I’m being hunted! The realisation fuels him more than the adrenaline thumping through his veins and he keeps going until he sees just off ahead, not more than a few feet away, a cave.

Ryan moves as fast as his chilled bones will let him and reaches the cave entrance, running in several feet until darkness greets him. He stops and collapses against the wall, breathing hard. Pulling the bandana down from his face so he can breathe a little easier, he then looks out the cave entrance.

No more shadows yet, just a veil of white masking the valley beyond.

He leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, taking the moment to rest. All he wants is to rest. His lungs burned, his lips are peeling and the snow is turning to ice on his eyebrows. He is frozen throughout, but burns at the same time.

Drip. It lands on his forehead, causing him to open his eyes and look up. Just water dripping from one of the stalactites above him and it continues to do so every few seconds.

Crunch. The noise emanates from deeper inside the cave, sending a chill through him once more.

Eyes darting back and forth, searching for the source of the sound, he can’t find it. Instead, he can barely make out two objects glowing in the distance of the cave. They are red, not too bright and just hovering there.

Ryan squints a little, maybe his eyes are playing tricks on him. Then blinks and they’re gone. After looking left and right a few more times, he dares to speak.

“H… hello?” He questions the darkness, his voice hoarse and raspy from the cold. It is met with silence, just the dripping of the water as it lands on his head. Almost an eternity of waiting for an answer seems to drift by, before he leans his head back once more and lets his eyes close again.

Drip. Another lands on his forehead as he breathes a sigh of relief. It's safe in the cave, nothing else could live out here in this weather and he must have imagined the shadows. Maybe a part of his mind created them to push him forwards to safety.

He sighs. Cold and now his stomach grumbles, hungry from not eating for two days. He leans his head back further; eyes closed and opens his mouth to taste the water as it drips down onto his dry tongue.

The drips stop. His brow furrows a little as he wonders why. Then, straining with effort, he opens his eyes. Ryan looks straight up and into two red orbs right above his face, glaring right through him.

He screams, his voice nothing more than a raspy whisper now before it’s cut off and he feels his chest suddenly wet and hot, running down over his body and dripping onto the rocky ground.

Drip.