Wendigo

Sara Walker was bouncing as she clocked out of work. As much as she loved her job as a trauma nurse, she was ready for a break, and she had the next two weeks off for vacation. Sara had planned to spend her vacation with her husband, Kevin. Unfortunately, Kevin had an emergency with the company where he worked and would be out of town for her entire vacation and most likely even longer. She would get to see him off in the morning, and that was it. As disappointed as Sara was that she and her husband would not be together during the vacation, she was elated that she would be doing something she was passionate about and rarely got to do, even if it would be on her own. Sara had made arrangements to go backcountry hiking in northern Minnesota for her vacation. It would be just her and nature for almost the entire two weeks she had off. Sara dashed to her car and began to make her way to the sporting goods store to grab the last few things she needed before picking up dinner and headin

Sara threw one more glance in the direction of the buck as she continued on her hike. She had marked many locations on her map, almost all of them recommended to her by Steve. She had a general plan and schedule worked out for the trip, which is something she always did. Sara never strictly stuck to the plan or schedule, but she liked to have it, so she was not roaming about aimlessly. It also gave her family and friends a starting point if she failed to check in or return home. She always left a copy for her husband and a second copy in her car if something happened. Sara soaked up the sun on the bright June day as she made her way through the forest and glades. She had a specific location in mind for where she wanted to camp her first night and wanted to get there while the sun was still up so she could use her solar charger to ensure all of her batteries and devices were fully charged if it were going to be cloudy and raining for a few days, like the forecast had said it would be.

Sara lay in her tent, listening to the tapping of rain dripping from the trees and landing on the tent’s rain flap. Waves of thunderstorms had rolled through during the night, making sleep nearly impossible. She was exhausted, yet she knew she needed to push on to the next location now that the rain had dwindled to a fine mist. After stretching as much as she could in her two-person tent, Sara rolled over and unzipped the tent just enough to peek out. Instead of the view of the valley she had the night before, there was now a wall of white fog and rain. Sara did not mind hiking in the rain; at times, she even found it almost meditative. Hiking in fog was something she hated. The fog kept her from seeing her surroundings, and that made her on guard and jumpy. Sara flopped back into her sleeping bag and sighed. She was contemplating breakfast and whether or when to start hiking when a twig snapped right behind her tent. She called out, “Ted? Is that you?” She was almost immediately

The sharp crack of thunder awoke Sara with a start as it shook the cabin. She could hear the rain pelting the roof and walls as it whipped in the whistling wind. She winced as she rolled over to try to go back to sleep. When she was on her side, she caught a glimpse of something that had not been there earlier. The journal she had found and placed on the table was now on the floor beside her. Sara grabbed her flashlight, sat bolt upright, and began shining it around the tiny cabin. The door was still tightly closed and barricaded with the chair that she had used. Nothing was out of place except the journal, and she was still alone. Sara’s heart was pounding, and she was now wide awake, with no hope of more sleep. She began to run things through her head, and she was absolutely positive that the journal had been on the table when she had gone to bed. There was no logical explanation for how it ended up beside her sleeping bag. She sat staring at the book for a few minutes before she

Sara had busied herself after the last journal entry she had read. She had cooked her lunch, collected and boiled more water, cleaned her dishes, texted with her husband, and was now ready to read more from Herschel Allen. Her mind was still reeling from what had been written in the last entry. What could an experienced trapper and his partner have seen that had them both confused and frightened? She sat down at the table with a fresh cup of coffee and opened the journal to continue reading and, with luck, find some answers.November 4, 1879Despite the snow that keeps piling up, our stack of pelts keeps growing. This season might be the best I have ever had, and I have Jim to thank for that. Even with being here for years, I do not know the area nearly as well as Jim does. Today, along with the traps all being full, we also managed to get a nice deer. That meat will sustain us for some time. It is a welcome change from rabbit and squirrel. Jim is salting and curing it as I write th