Chapter 2: Through the Lake
She kept her walking brisk, listening for any hint she might be followed. There wasn't much indication that she was going the wrong or right way or even staying away from whatever it was, aiming to avoid as many tracks as possible. Occasionally, she'd come across a set and freeze, taking a moment to figure out which way it was going and how long ago the tracks were left. Since it was still snowing, some of the tracks were filling right in; those were older ones -obviously-, and the fresh ones were nearly right to the ground.
It wasn't often for her to come across recent ones, but when she did she tried to disguise her own footprints, each step in the larger print and heading the opposite way until she could no longer -if it took to a tree or began to run, making its steps too far apart to walk in easily.
She didn't know how long she'd been walking; the cold made it hard to judge whether she'd been walking for 20 minutes or an hour, and she had to take several moments to remove her hands from the sleeves of her oversized peacoat to breathe against her freezing fingers. By now, the snow in the clearings where trees grew further apart or stood naked had a thin crust over it, crunching as the wet snowflakes landed and settled. Her plan for a silent journey was shot down, forcing her to take each step slower than she normally would to muffle the cracking.
How long was this property? She remembered hiking these woods with her boyfriend, but she never really knew how vast the Hackett owned property was, and no matter how long she traveled in one direction, there were no landmarks to tell her where she was. For all she knew, she was going in the direct opposite direction of the quarry and was now knuckle deep in Halcott State park territory. She was about to stop and turn a different way when she pushed through a series of dead hedges, foot sliding across dark brown snow and sending her to her bottom. Her hands lashed out, slamming through the freezing snow and grabbing whatever her hands could grab, stopping herself from falling further down.
She stifled a yell of surprise -with the help of a well placed rock into her diaphragm- biting her lip to keep the noise to a minimum, but it didn't stop the tumbling stones she knocked free from bouncing down the jagged, shelves cliff and hitting a black sheet below, breaking apart and sending the pieces scattering. Thrashing, she kicked her feet, trying to find purchase so she could climb up. When her boots found nothing, her eyes skimmed the surrounding area by her hands for anything. Luckily for her, a tree nearby leaned exhaustedly over the edge, it's gnarled roots curling out from the stone bedding it had grown in.
Holding her breath, she swung her leg up, using the roots to hook her heel into. Clenching her eyes shut tight, she bit through the burning of her fingers as she clawed her way back up onto the ledge, knees breaking through the icy snow. She scrambled as far away from the edge as she could, her skin splitting on the edges of the newly formed holes of frozen, icy rain and plopped herself on her bottom, pulling her skirt back down her legs.
"Cold, cold cold," she whispered to herself, flexing her fingers a couple of times before cupping them to her lips, breathing as much heat into them as she could. She looked out across the distance, seeing that, in fact, the black bottom was the lake, frozen over and oddly not covered in snow. Not yet.
This was it! A sign that she was getting closer, she remembered; when her boyfriend, Kenneth, took her hiking those years back, they had gone into the lodge to speak to Chris Hackett -or, he did, she was too busy idolizing the scenery. Just off the deck was a pathway to water, and from what she remembered, the only water near Hackett's Quarry was the lake. From the lake, she had access to nearly everything. But where was she in regards to the map?
She took a moment, looking out over everything; where she sat now were cliffs, or walls of the quarry that dropped down. From it, about 200 feet away was an island, and in the distance as the moon began to push through the clouds, she could see a boathouse. She must be on the south end of the quarry in the surrounding wilds; which in itself wasn't an issue, the only issue was *now* having to find a way down and across the lake. She was soaking wet from traipsing through the snow, her boots filled with water so her autumn socks were soaked to the bone and freezing inside. Her hair froze in small clumps, droplets freezing before they could drip off the ends of her hair.
The lake looked like it was frozen, but the color of it and the lack of snow made her worried that perhaps it wasn't frozen solid enough. She didn't have a choice though; it would take god knows how long to go around the lake, and there was something wandering around out there with her -although she hadn't seen or heard anything from it yet. She was already cold, and she could feel the frostbite settling in to a point where the only sensation she had in her limbs was burning, like stepping into a hot fire. She was going to get hypothermia and die if she didn't hurry up; so taking that thought, she used it as the consensus to take the shortcut. Turning, she pulled her hands from her mouth once more and looked at that same wind whipped tree and rested her hand on the curvature of its root.
"Thank you for saving me. Sadly, I request to use your body again to lower myself down, I promise to make it as quick as possible; I know how cold your roots are." She spoke softly to it, pulling her hand away and wiggling her fingers. "You are probably thinking, 'ugh, this bitch climbing on me again', and…yes. This bitch will be, but this bitch thanks you ahead of time." She smiled gently, joking. Grabbing the curve of the extension, she sank her fingers in where she would have the best grip. One by one, she tossed her legs over the side, feet feeling around for another shelf below her for support. Successfully, she found a ledge not too far down, but the moment she put her weight on it, the slick surface caused by the icy weather caused her feet to slip. Her fingers, too cold for a proper grip, slipped from around the tree root, bark ripping open her skin.
She fell, roughly 20 feet, her back hitting the ice with a sickening crunch that echoed across the emptiness and bounced back off the thick, surrounding forest. Her vision flashed red as she hit, then faded to white, the last thing she heard was the fading echo of her fall.
For a brief time, she didn't feel cold, she didn't feel pain. All she could identify was the smell of the crisp winter air and a scent of dirt, rain and pine. But all good things came to an end and the pain of not only the cold, but now the fall, came rushing in, festering in her skin and aching to the bone.
Forcing her eyes open, she rolled to her side; the fall manifested in her shoulders stiffly, feeling the swelling in her skin already and cursing the decision her body made to send blood flow from her toes to the newly forming bruise on her back. At least the ice held up.
Slowly pushing herself to her feet, she ignored rubbing the injured areas, already feeling them protest her determined commitment to moving forward. Gripping herself, she pushed on, one foot in front of the other.
She was careful, each step testing the stability of the ice she walked on; if she fell through she was dead. She would let herself die, there is no way in God's finely handcrafted hell she was going to haul herself out of the water and run. Little did she know that while her mind made that decision as a concrete vow, it would be broken.
Pushing past the island, she took a moment to look up and down the opposite coast; she could see the boat house and the docks; if she could seek refuge in there and get warmth for a few moments she would be happy, but she had no idea if the building she saw was a closed one or something exposed to the elements. If she went and it was the latter, that was extra time she wasted, tacking on minutes to the ever shortening length of time she had left. Instead, she turned to the north east and began walking that way towards a small clearing *barely* illuminated by the moon.
Everything seemed to be running smoothly, her footsteps carefully, testing each step ahead and listening to any cracking as indicators that the ice wasn't as stable towards the middle when she heard a tapping. The noise made her stop dead in her tracks, listening, the sound following up from the rear.
It wasn't the sound of ice breaking, no, to her it sounded like nails. Like dog nails on a linoleum floor, and it kicked up the all too familiar feeling of fight or flight. Whipping around, she saw it; step by step, the long legged beast approached her, his nails scraping along the ice. Without thinking, she turned and began to run, her heart beating like a drumroll, only to be duetted by the pounding pursuit of the monster behind her.
On the ice, in the light of the moon, a shadow stretched out over her. It's feet barely had the time to touch down, a scream erupting from her lungs as its body hit hers. The solid form slammed her to the ice, bouncing her head off the ground as claws thrashed.
Reflexively, her hands shot up, trying to shove it's slashing claws back, teeth gnashing at her. Suddenly, the ground gave out from beneath her, spilling the lower half of her body into the freezing cold waters, sinking the beast as well. Then it was no longer a monster trying to eat its victim, but now two victims, submerged in pitchblack, sub zero water. The beast clawed at her, howling as she desperately shambled up onto the ice. Nails raked down her legs, tearing chunks from her dress and flesh as it tried to find a grip in her flesh enough to pull himself out. She didn't let him; rolling away from him, she forced herself to her feet, the hot liquid of her blood gushing down her legs as she pushed on, leaving the thrashing, howling demon behind her, fighting for its life in the unforgiving, frozen grip of Septimus lake.