Chapter Text
The Alaska coastline, 100 miles east of Anchorage
His very bones seemed to ache with cold as he hiked along the rainy, rocky shoreline. He didn’t mind that much, though. He was just glad to finally be taking this trip. After forty long years of working to provide for his family, he was enjoying his much-deserved retirement. He’d been planning this trip for the past five years. A full three weeks of hiking, fishing, hunting, and sightseeing around the great state of Alaska. Despite the driving rain, nothing could put a damper on his mood.
It was also nice to have his wife along for the trip. However, at this moment, she was not so keen on watching for bears or whales. She liked traveling, granted, and she was just as eager to come to Alaska as her husband, but she drew the line at foul weather.
.“Eric, let’s head back to the lodge,” she said. “We’re not gonna see much in this rain, anyway.”
“C’mon, Delilah, we have the whole beach to ourselves!” Eric Smith countered. “This is the best chance at seeing something without fighting with a thousand other tourists for a look!”
Delilah looked down at her feet for a moment, making sure she wasn’t about to twist her ankle on a rock, before answering. “But this is Alaska, dear. I’m sure there’s plenty of space for all of us cheechakos. We’re not even gonna get good pictures of any wildlife we find, look at how grey everything is!”
“Alright, alright. How about five more minutes? Then we can turn back and warm up at the lodge. I want you to enjoy this trip too, I just don’t want us to miss out on seeing something that’s unforgettable.”
“I know, Eric,” she replied, her spirits lifted somewhat, but still sounding frustrated.
.“Hey,” her husband teased, getting his wife’s attention. “How about after dinner, we try out that fireplace we’ve got in our room. A nice warm fire sure sounds cozy right about, doesn’t it? We can even break out that expensive wine you insisted on packing, hmm?”
Delilah grinned shyly at the thought, her face growing warm at her husband’s suggestion. “Alright,” she relented, giving Eric’s arm a playful swat. “Five more minutes, but no more, alright?”
They continued hiking, looking out for any interesting wildlife but not spotting anything. The rain continued to pelt them like watery bullets, hammering into the rocks and sea with a staccato rhythm. The two tourists’ gazes kept flickering between the sea, the sky, the land, and their ankles to make sure they didn’t break one. They had had the foresight to buy strong hiking boots, the kind that covered a person’s ankles, before leaving for Alaska, but you could never be too careful. They also had other safety supplied to make sure they didn’t succumb to Mother Nature: bear spray, rain ponchos, extra layers, bug spray, sunblock, extra water, and some high-protein snacks to keep their strength up. Eric had also bought a satellite phone to call for help if needed. Since cell phone reception was so spotty out here, it made sense to get a device that would actually work in the wilderness.
About four minutes after he negotiated for more time, Eric learned that he might actually have to use that satellite phone. From somewhere over the next ridge, the two of them heard what sounded like a human voice.
“Did you hear that, Eric?” Delilah asked.
“I hear something, dear,” he replied.
She leaned forward, trying to see if she could make out what the voice was saying. After a moment, her eyes widened and she turned to Smith, saying insistently, “I think it’s someone calling for help!” Delilah picked up her speed and setting off in the direction of the voice.
“I thought you wanted to get back to the lodge!” Eric argued, hurrying after his wife.
“Well we can’t just leave them out here! Why would they be yelling for help if they didn’t need it? For all we know they could be hurt!” She had forgotten how cold she was and was now dead-set on finding that person. As inconvenient as it was, the instinct to help someone in need was one she couldn’t ignore. Even though she had retired from nursing almost five years now, Delilah still found herself dropping everything to provide aid whenever it was needed.
The Smiths trekked up the ridge, losing sight of the sea as they crested the hill. The voice was louder now, and they could discern the phrase, ‘Help! Help me, please!’ over the sound of the driving rain. Delilah ran her hands across her face, wiping the raindrops out of her eyes and slicking her hair back. Turning her head in all directions, she tried to pinpoint the voice from their vantage point at the top of the ridge.
“I can hear them! They’re that way!” she hollered, hoping Eric could hear her over the downpour. She pointed towards a dip in the landscape about a mile from their current location, towards the north.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t just call the rangers and let them handle it, hon?” Eric questioned, his voice filled with concern. “They’re trained to handle this sort of thing, we’re not! Besides, we could catch a cold in this rain!”
“We’re already out here, Eric!” Delilah countered. “Besides, I thought a little rain didn’t bother you.” She raised an eyebrow to emphasize her point. “Suddenly now you’re concerned?”
“That’s not what I meant, Delilah!” Eric retorted. “This is different! We knew how to get back to the lodge from the beach, but we’re lost out here!”
“Eric, there’s someone out there that needs us!” she insisted. “I’m not gonna head back to the lodge, knowing that someone’s out here lost and hurt! You can go back if you want, but I’m gonna keep looking for at least a little bit longer.”
Eric sighed and replied, “Alright, I’m sorry. I get it. But just until we get to that next ridge! Then we’re gonna call the rangers and let the professionals handle this!”
The two of them kept hiking until they were at the top of the next ridge. Looking around in all directions, the Smiths couldn’t see anyone.
“Alright dear, we should probably -” Eric began to say before he heard his wife yell and the sound of a body slapping against something wet. Turning around, he saw Delilah sliding down the hill through the mud, shouting for help and trying to grasp the hillside. She came to a sudden stop when she hit something solid lying in the mud at the bottom of the hill.
“DELILAH!” he yelled, running carefully down the hill so he didn’t slide after her. After a perilous sprint through the mud, he reached his wife’s side and moved to help her.
She was distracted by the object she had crashed into. Delilah was pulling at its edges, and she said to Eric, “It’s a person! I think this is who was calling for help!”
Eric looked closer, and sure enough it was a human being. They were lying facedown in the mud, their head propped up just enough so they could breathe and call for help. Surprisingly, they were dressed in mostly white clothes. Well, Eric assumed that they had once been white. They were so stained and ripped that they were nothing more than dirty rags at this point. The man (judging by the pitch of the voice, the Smiths assumed the person was male) was still calling for help, but his voice was much weaker by now. Neither of the Smiths could see his face or hands, but the man was trying to push himself onto his hands and knees. He kept falling on his face over and over again, struggling to sit up.
“Here, let me help you.” Delilah said, rolling the man onto his back. When she saw his face, she screamed. Eric swallowed down bile as he suppress the urge to vomit.
They weren’t even sure it was a man anymore, if it was ever human to begin with. Instead of a uniform layer of human skin on his face, there was a hodgepodge of damaged human flesh and what looked like…scales. Brassy, yellowish scales that in a different light, would have looked gold. At the spots where scales met skin, the flesh was swollen and red with infection. Delilah winced at the sight, thinking how painful those spots had to be. Four gnarled stumps crowned his head, poking through the skin and causing rivulets of blood to drip down his brow like Jesus’s crown of thorns. He reached up to grab the sleeve of Eric’s jacket, and the latter recoiled when he saw the appendage. The fingers were unnaturally long, thin as the bones in a bird’s wing and tipped with claws where nails should have been. They also looked brittle, and looking closer Eric could see that two of the fingers were already broken. Opening his mouth, the Smiths could see jagged, sharp teeth jutting out of his gums, pushing the normal human teeth out of the way. He was saying something, his strength completely sapped. Lowering his head cautiously, Eric tried to make out the man’s final words. They were a plea for help, but not the kind he was willing to give.
“Kill…Kill me, please…” the thing that was once a man rasped. His eyes, clouded and damaged to the point of blindness, slid shut. With a final, pained-filled gasp, he died there in the mud.