Let's Kill a Wendigo, Bro [Isaac]

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It was early. The sun had just peeked out over the horizon as Grace wheeled her bicycle out of the motel room she shared with her brother. Isaac was snoring lightly from his bed and she closed the door as quietly as she could, not wanting to wake him. Isaac was never happy to be woken up out of a deep sleep under normal circumstances. It wasn’t even six a.m. yet. She couldn’t imagine how pissed off he’d be.

Once she crossed the parking lot, Grace climbed onto the bike and switched on her MP3 player, letting Britney Spears blare in her ears as she pedaled down the quiet street. Being cooped up with Isaac for days at a time tended to get a little stifling. Sometimes Grace just needed a little time alone. Nothing dangerous, nothing so crazy it would land her in the drunk tank. Just a thirty-minute bike ride around town. Nothing bad could come from riding a bike, right?

Grace slowed to a stop near a heavily wooded area. The street had narrowed considerably over the course of her ride and it looked like it turned to dirt and gravel further down. This seemed like a good time to start heading back. She pulled a water bottle from where it was secured on the body of the bike and took a long sip from it. She was about to turn around and kick off when a noise stopped her. She pulled out her ear buds and listened closely. Birds were chirping and there was water running somewhere nearby – probably a river near the tree line. Grace was about to blame it on her imagination and a lack of caffeine when a voice drifted out to her from the woods.

“Hey! Help me!”

Her eyes widened. It sounded like Isaac. But, she’d just left him in the room sleeping. Crap. Maybe she hadn’t been quiet enough sneaking out. Had he followed her? She hadn’t seen his car. Then again, he could’ve shifted and chased her on foot. He could have caught up with her easily as a dog.

“Isaac?” she called.

There was a long pause as she listened for a reply.

“Help!”

Toeing her bike’s kickstand into the pavement, Grace took a few tentative steps toward the tree line, pressing a button on the MP3 player hooked to her shorts to shut it off. She wouldn’t put it past her brother to play a mean prank on her for waking him up so damn early.

“If you’re stuck out here bare-ass naked, that’s your own fault, dude.”

She chuckled to herself and shook her head, but her eyes snapped up when she heard Isaac scream.

“ISAAC!”

She raced into the woods, feeling branches scratch her arms and legs as she went. She stopped after a moment and looked around, trying to figure out where to turn next.

“Isaac, where are you?” she called.

Grace listened hard for any clue to point her in the right direction.

“Help me! Please!”

Left. She darted further into the woods, shielding her face from twigs and branches and managing to keep her footing despite the rocks and tree roots trying to slow her progress. She came to a small clearing with a fire pit in the middle. A campsite minus the camp. Her breath came in ragged gasps and she raked a few stray hairs out of her face. Her eyes scanned the area for any sign of her brother.

The sound of cracking twigs made her whirl around. It occurred to her only then that she didn’t have any weapons.

“Isaac?”

A scream escaped her as something pulled her legs out from under her and she was dragged painfully backward. She clawed at the ground, grasping for something – anything. She caught hold of a large, charred stick and kicked her feet, trying to loosen whatever had a hold of her. One foot wrenched free and she rolled onto her back, still being dragged across the ground. Her eyes widened as she saw something human, but not human. Its limbs were too long and its skin was a sickly green. Its claws dug painfully into her leg and she cried out, thrusting the stick forward as hard as she could. She managed to surprise the thing enough to get her other foot free. Scrambling to stand, she took off running. Her back and stomach stung where they’d been scraped up, and she was sure she was bleeding, but she kept running.

“Help me!”

She stopped. Isaac. No. Not Isaac. It couldn’t be. If he’d been anywhere near her, he would have heard her scream. She heard the sound of breaking branches and gasped. It was close. Grace forced herself to keep running, and she didn’t stop until she got to the street. She came out down the road, where it was more dirt than pavement, and jogged toward her bike, digging her cell phone out of her pocket as she went. Thankfully it was still there and it hadn’t gotten smashed to pieces. She speed-dialed Isaac, breathless as she reached her bike and kicked the kickstand up. She groaned when she got his voicemail.

“Help! Help me!”

Grace jammed her cell phone back in her pocket and pedaled.

“Not Isaac, not Isaac, not Isaac,” she panted.

And she hoped to hell she was right.

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Isaac never managed to sleep as late as he wanted to these days anyway. Ever since Chris had been killed and Grace had decided to tag along with him on his hunts, he sort of felt the need to sleep with one eye open. Standard carefulness as a hunter had turned to protectiveness as a big brother. He had already lost his brother to a supernatural piece of shit.. he would be damned if he were going to let something happen to her. So he never really got a full night of restful sleep anymore... his sub-conscious wouldn't allow it.

On this particular morning it was about a quarter after six when he first awoke. He laid there for a couple of minutes with his eyes closed, just allowing his body to wake up, but it didn't take long for him to realize that the room was far too quiet. Grace wasn't a big snorer, but she did have a steady, rather loud manner of breathing when she was in a deep sleep. When Isaac realized that sound he had grown accustomed to wasn't there, he sat up and opened his eyes, looking over at the empty bed next to his.

Immediately, Isaac bolted up out of bed and started inspecting the room, a pit forming in his stomach that something had happened to her. But when he found no signs of any struggle, he let out a relieved sigh. Knowing Grace, she had probably gone out to pick up breakfast or gone out for coffee. He decided there was no reason to worry and started to make his way to the bathroom, pausing to retrieve his phone from the pocket of yesterday's jeans, which had been discarded carelessly on the floor.

He waited until he had taken care of his business in the bathroom and then made to call his sister. If she had gone for breakfast, he wanted to be sure she knew he was awake so she could pick something up for him as well. But he frowned when he saw that he had already missed a call from her. It was likely that she had already picked up the food and he had missed out on his chance for morning take-out, but he decided to call her back in case she hadn't gotten too far. Maybe he could convince her to go back through the drive-thru.

Isaac leaned in toward the mirror, inspecting (or admiring perhaps) his reflection as he speed-dialed his sister, held the phone to his ear, and listened to it ring...

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Grace was pedaling like her life depending on it. Which made sense, since it sort of did. She was panting and she could feel beads of sweat forming on her forehead. She jumped when her cell phone rang where it was clipped to her waistband. Struggling to detach it without toppling over, she slowed her pace a bit. Relief flooded her as she saw Isaac’s name on the screen. She flipped open the phone and held it to her ear.

“Isaac! You’re not dying in the woods, are you? Please tell me you’re not dying in the woods.”

She was breathless, but still somehow managing to talk a mile-a-minute.

“I heard you scream, but I thought you were joking. Then I ran in to help you and that thing attacked me.”

Grace swallowed. A lump had formed in her throat while she was talking. Oh, God, had she left him in the woods with that thing?

“I… I had to run,” she said. “It almost killed me.”

She slowed the bike to a stop, trying to catch her breath and wondering if she should keep going toward the motel or turn back and head back to the monster in the woods.

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A panicked, out-of-breath Grace on the other end of the call was not at all what Isaac had expected. As soon as she started to talk, he turned all of his attention to her, clasping the phone to his ear with a troubled expression on his face.

“Isaac! You’re not dying in the woods, are you? Please tell me you’re not dying in the woods.”

Puzzled, he only managed to mumble, "...dying in the woods?"

“I heard you scream, but I thought you were joking. Then I ran in to help you and that thing attacked me.”

Big brother mode kicked in full force. "What?! What attacked you?" Isaac was already lifting his suitcase onto the bed and digging out the first t-shirt he came across, pulling it over his head while awkwardly trying to keep the cell to his ear. He then cradled the phone with his shoulder while he grabbed his jeans and started to pull them on over his boxers.

“I… I had to run,” she said. “It almost killed me.”

Isaac squeezed his eyes shut tight for a moment when she said that. This was one of those days when he was reminded what a bad idea it had been to allow his inexperienced sister to tag along with him on his hunts. It was times like this when that pit in the bottom of his stomach just served as a reminder that he hadn't been able to protect Chris, who had nearly seven years experience... what made him think that he could protect his baby sister?

"Grace, where are you?" he asked, his voice full of stern urgency. "I'm coming to get you."

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Grace struggled to pedal, holding the phone between her ear and her shoulder. She didn’t want to stop and let that thing catch up to her. Isaac asked where she was, saying he’d come get her.

“I… I’m almost at the motel,” she said breathlessly. “I just… went for a bike ride… and I heard you in the woods.”

She swallowed, her breaths coming in big gasps.

“I’m so sorry, Isaac,” she whimpered.

She was going to say more, but the phone slipped out from its cradle and she heard it land somewhere on the ground. She couldn’t stop to pick it up. She was too scared to do anything but pedal fiercely forward. Grace skidded into the motel parking lot a moment later, hopping off the bike and letting it fall to the ground once she neared the room. She raced toward the door, blood dripping from the claw marks on her right leg and soaking her sock in red.

“Isaac?!”

Her voice was high and frantic. Please be in there, please be in there, she thought over and over as she closed the gap between her bike and the door.

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She swallowed, her breaths coming in big gasps.

“I’m so sorry, Isaac,” she whimpered.

Before Isaac could even respond, he heard the clatter on the other end as the phone fell to the pavement. Now that he couldn't actually hear his sister's voice, he had no way of knowing if she was safe or not. "Grace?.... Shit!" he yelled, ending the call and stuffing the phone into his pocket before quickly grabbing his shoes and pulling them on as quick as he could, thankful that he hadn't bothered to untie them when he took them off the night before.

After retrieving his gun from under his pillow and his keys from the nightstand, he raced to the door, his heart thumping in his chest and his stomach lurching with the horrible feeling that he may not see his sister alive again. As he threw open the motel door, his attention was immediately caught by the sight of his terrified sister racing toward him. He noticed the bike discarded behind her and the blood dripping down her leg, and for a brief moment he was reminded of a time when they were kids and she had come to him for comfort after a bike accident had left her with skinned knees and injured pride. Even back then, he had felt that it was his responsibility to make sure she was taken care of.

Feeling immense relief that she had actually made it back, he rushed out to meet her, lifting her arm around his shoulders and slipping his around her waist so that she could lean on him as they made their way back into the room. "It's okay," he muttered, trying his best to soothe her. "It's okay, Gracie. I got you. You're safe."

Once they were both safely inside, Isaac guided her to the bed to sit and then went to lock the door, tucking the one chair in the room beneath the doorknob to barricade it. As of now, he didn't know what had chased her and he felt it was better safe than sorry. When he rejoined Grace, taking a seat on his own bed, he looked down at her injury and couldn't help feeling a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that it was possible she had been bitten by some nasty creature as he had. He hoped to God that she wouldn't have to go through that.

"What happened?" he asked as he gently lifted her foot in his lap, carefully unlacing her shoe.

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Panic thrummed in Grace as she ran toward the motel room door, heart pounding, breath coming in hurried, ragged gasps, tears streaming down her dirty face. The door opened and the sight of her brother filled Grace with relief. It wasn’t him she’d heard in the woods. She hadn’t ran off and left him to die some horrible death. She tried to say his name, but choked out hard sobs instead as he took hold of her, supporting her as he led her into the room. She heard him speaking to her, his tone soothing, but didn’t process his words. All she could focus on was his voice. He was here and he was alive.

Grace sat down on the bed, sniffing and wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Her vision was blurry with tears as she watched Isaac lock and barricade the door. Sobs wrenched her and it was hard for her to breathe normally. Isaac sat down and she wiped away tears from her cheeks. He didn’t like it when she cried.

“What happened?”

She flinched slightly, more in surprise than pain, when Isaac took her foot in his lap. She was jumpy, still brimming with adrenaline. She swallowed, her throat raw from screaming and crying.

“I… went for a ride,” she said through sobs. “Not far. Just… down the road.”

She sniffed, trying hard to calm down enough to talk.

“I stopped. Near the woods. And I… I heard you.”

She frowned, her brows creasing in confusion, the realization dawning on her.

“You… called out to me,” she continued. “You were screaming for help.”

But, that didn’t make any sense. If he’d been here in the room, there was no way he could’ve been in the woods. She felt a pang of anxiety as she blinked at Isaac, her face a tear-streaked blotchy mess of confusion and fear.

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After carefully inspecting the wound, Isaac let out a sigh of relief at the realization that she hadn't been bitten by anything. So there was no worry that she would become a skinwalker or a werewolf, but that didn't mean she was completely out of the woods yet. He gently maneuvered her leg so that it was propped up on the bed and stood up, heading over to his things to pull a small first aid kit from his pack. He retrieved a towel from the bathroom and rejoined her on the bed, taking great care not to cause her any further pain as he slowly lifted her leg enough to tuck the towel under it.

"This is probably going to sting," he told her as he uncapped a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, gently tilting it so that the clear contents drizzled out over the wound. He watched as a white foam bubbled up and slid down the sides of her ankle. "Well, obviously it wasn't me out there. Are you sure that it sounded like me? I mean, I'm sure I'm not the only guy in the world with a similar tone to my voice." After pouring the peroxide onto the wound twice more until it ran clear, he recapped the bottle and looked up at his sister. "What did it say?"

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Grace shifted her position as Isaac laid her foot down on the bed. She sniffed, wiping tears and mucus off her face. Isaac was rummaging around in his pack, and then he was in the bathroom. His brief absence gave her a moment to compose herself a little. She was safe. He was safe. For the moment, they were okay. Now they just had to figure out what just happened.

Isaac came back. Grace let him tuck the towel under her foot. She dug her fingers into the blanket when he told her whatever he was about to do was going to sting. It wasn’t the first time Isaac had patched her up after an injury. Ever since she was a little girl he’d been bandaging her skinned knees and icing her sprained ankles. Grace sucked air through her teeth as the liquid hit the cut and pain flared up.

“Well, obviously it wasn't me out there. Are you sure that it sounded like me? I mean, I'm sure I'm not the only guy in the world with a similar tone to my voice.”

Grace glared at him in annoyance.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Isaac finished cleaning out the wound. Grace gritted her teeth through the pain. He asked what he – or the thing that sounded like him – said. She thought hard, remembering.

“Just… I don’t know. ‘Help. Help me.’ And then screaming.”

She frowned and looked up at him.

“It was like you were being attacked.”