Short Story Saturday: Hiking

HIKING

I'm not quite sure how I got here. No, I know exactly how I got here. I guess, it's more like it doesn't make sense, and I don't know what I did to deserve this. Somehow, I'd gotten lost in the woods. I never get lost, but I climbed a pine tree to get a better vantage of where I was. I fell.

How did I fall? I know what the hell I'm doing. Just like, I should've never gotten lost. I've been through these woods a hundred times or more. Must be an off day. Yeah, a really off day.

I must have broken my neck when I hit the ground because I can't move. Though, I'm pretty sure I can feel the ant that's biting the hand I can see. Damn, that hurts like a bitch, but this should be a good sign. Well, if someone finds me, I think. The problem is, I didn't let anyone know I was going hiking today.

Fuckin' hell, I must've landed on an ant bed. A big ant bed. The little red-brown bastards are covering my hand. I can feel them crawling under my jacket, up my arm, and to my chest. Their bites feel like little bursts of flames, multiplied by thousands. I want desperately to brush and slap at myself and knock them off. I keep telling my arms to move, but they do nothing.

Tears well in my eyes, and I cry out, “Help! Someone, help me! Anybody!”

Hours pass, and no one comes to my aid. I focus on my hand. It's a fierce shade of pink. For the most part, it's swollen, but there are areas full of small craters where the ants have carried away bits of my flesh. My pinkie finger has parts where the ants have literally carried away so much flesh that the bone is visible. Though my arm has gone numb a while ago, I can still feel the bites from ants that have gotten lost under my clothing. I briefly wonder if enough ant venom will kill me, and if so, how much does it take?

I grow tired and manage to fall asleep through the fire and the itching all over my body. I wake to darkness, and there’s something pulling at my leg. I try to look what's happening, but I can't move my head to see anything.

“Hello?” I say, merely a breath of air through my lips.

I’m answered by a low growl, then the sound of fabric tearing as my leg is jerked even harder. My body slides a little across the ground by the animal's strength. I run through a list of predators and scavengers in the area. Before I can think of what it could be, a sharp pain shoots through me, starting at my calf and letting me know that I'm not, in fact, completely paralyzed. I feel a wetness run over my leg. I'm certain it's blood and a lot of it—I can smell it.

I scream, and a coyote runs past my line of sight. I've startled it. “Oh, my god! Please! Please, someone help!” I yell. There has to be someone camping nearby. Then I remember that it's Thursday, and not really a big camping day. Yet, I still continue to cry for help.

I guess the coyote thought I wasn't a threat as he slinks back a while later, looking at my face briefly. Shit, don't do it! Don't fucking do it! I'm not sure if I've said it out loud, or if it was just a thought. Either way, the large, wild dog moves out of my sight, and the tugging sensation begins again at my leg. Then the pain is unbearable as I hear my flesh ripping. I grit my teeth, there's no use in screaming. No one's coming, and this animal has decided it isn't afraid of me. I'm not a threat.

I hear a twig snap, and I move my eyes toward the sound. They won't go far enough to find what made the noise. But, I don't need them to as three more beasts walk out of the darkness. They charge at me. I hear snarls and snapping, but they've gone out of my sight just as quickly as they came into it.

One yanks at my jacket. I try to prepare myself. I try not to freak out, but I'm given all the reason to do just that—there's one right in my face. I try to scream, and nothing comes out. It sniffs at my neck, and I can hear it lick its lips. I close my eyes.