Chapter 4

Levi

"It's day four guys," I told the camera, my teeth still chattering as they had been ever since I'd gotten up. Maybe even beforehand. It was fucking cold. According to the sleeping bag, it was supposed to work in sub-zero temperatures, but according to my body, that was a fucking lie. Either that or the fine mist of ocean water that appeared to be permanently moistening the air had managed to soak through the fabric. Probably the latter one, I thought as I pulled on the sweater and shuddered. It was cold and damp—just like everything else.

Stepping out of the cabin to stretch my muscles a bit, I was hit with a strong gust of wind. Salty air mixed with mist hit my face. It felt like needles piercing my skin, and a shiver ran down my spine.

Looking up, I found the sky a dark, looming grey.

"Today doesn't look like it'll be as beautiful," I said, raising the camera to let my viewers see what I was seeing. Yesterday, the sky had remained a beautiful azure blue, streaked with puffy, white clouds. The sun had shone down on me until I'd felt like I might get burned if I didn't step into the shade, though it hadn't been powerful enough to dry my clothes. I needed to get a fire going for that, but no matter how much my Wolfie had whined at me and urged me on to keep trying, it hadn't worked.

My stomach grumbled, and I pressed my free hand against it.

"The hunger is back," I said, speaking into the camera. It was almost instinct to do so; the camera being my personal diary to document this torturous adventure I was involuntarily caught up in. "I need to get more water. Though, to be completely honest, drinking water to sate hunger is something that only works for fitness or weight-loss influencers." I giggled. "It certainly doesn't work for me."

As if my stomach had just been waiting for my command, it let out another loud growling, gurgling sound, cramping just for good measure. I winced, curling in on myself.

"It's been… about seventy-two hours since I've last eaten something, and my stomach is not happy. Neither am I. I think I'd kill for a burger. Hell, I'd probably kill for a bit of plain toast."

The wind picked up, whipping more wetness right into my face.

"Ugh. I have to go back inside and get my jacket."

Shivering again, goosebumps spread across my arms and all the way down my torso. I hastily retreated inside the wooden cabin and let out a sigh of relief as the wind eased up a bit. If only the windows were still intact.

Today really didn't look like it was going to be a good day.

Damn.

I wanted to explore the beach a little bit more. Yesterday, I found out I actually wasn't far from the ocean at all. It was maybe a five-minute walk away in the opposite direction of the lake—AKA my freshwater source. However, if the wind was that strong here, I could only imagine how it'd feel on the beach.

Looking into the camera again, I shrugged. "Looks like there's a change of plans. I'll go fetch more water right now, and then… we'll see. A trip to the beach might have to wait till tomorrow."

Or longer.

In theory, I was pretty sure stumbling around the forest or walking along the beach for hours at a time was not the smartest thing to do. I should probably try to move very little to conserve as much energy as possible, but… just sitting around with nothing to do wasn't good for my mental health. Like at all.

It only made me think about all the things that could happen to me while I'm out here, and I really, really didn't want to keep thinking about ways to die. I was at forty-three already—each one dumber than the one before.

Pushing my arms into the sleeves of my jacket, I pulled up the zipper and put on the hood, fastening the Velcro to keep it in place.

I rubbed my arms for a couple of seconds, then grabbed the two empty bottles. I wish Alistair would've given me at least three. It felt like two just weren't enough to get me through the day—especially since I didn't have anything to eat.

That was the one thing Wolfie apparently couldn't help me with. When I'd asked him if he knew where I could find something to eat, he'd flattened his ears and whimpered.

I'd taken that as a no, even though I knew I shouldn't take it as anything because it was a damn wolf. There was no way he understood what I was saying. I really did know that, yet a small part of me remained doubtful. A part of me noticed all the big and little oddities in Wolfie's behaviour. But thinking about the ramifications of a wild animal understanding human language made my head hurt.

Or the headache was another sign of starvation.

Yawning, I braced myself, then headed outside again.

I didn't know what time it was. I figured it must be morning because I'd only woken up a short while ago, but I couldn't be certain since the sun was nowhere to be seen. It didn't really matter, anyway. I needed water now, and then I needed to get back to the cabin and keep working on getting a fire started. Which wasn't as easy as movies made it out to be.

Turning my head, I searched for a sign of my animalistic companion, but came up empty-handed. No sandy-brown flashes of fur anywhere. No yipping, no barking, no whining, no howling.

I sighed, then chastised myself. He was a wolf. A wild animal. He had better things to do than spend his whole day with me.

He was probably out hunting. Just because I didn't have the first clue about how to get food, didn't mean my wolf had the same problem. In fact, I really hoped he knew how to hunt his prey. A hungry wolf equalled a dangerous wolf.

"I'll die here," I sobbed into the camera, angrily wiping at my eyes. The wind was howling, a storm raging outside the cabins. The sounds of trees groaning and branches snapping a terrifying mix joined by the roaring of the ocean.

Pressing myself further into the corner of the cabin, I huddled beneath my sleeping bag as best as I could, but it was pointless.

It wasn't raining; it was pouring, the air so heavy with water, the wind carrying endless amounts of raindrops, pushing them through every nook and cranny.

My back was soaked, my hair was soaked—everything was soaked.

Lightning bolts lit up the sky for a moment, followed by deep, rumbling thunder so loud I tried pressing my hands to my ears to dampen the sound.

"I don't know what to do," I shouted, trying to drown out the storm outside, even though it was probably a futile attempt. Hell, the chances of anyone ever seeing these tapes were small at best, but… I couldn't stop recording.

If I stopped, I'd have to face the fact that I was alone.

Completely alone.

Even Wolfie had abandoned me. Well, he'd probably felt the storm coming and had sought out shelter.

There was no one to talk to, no one to discuss my options with.

"I'm not sure I'm safe here," I shouted into the camera again, desperately clinging to the little black device. "I think a tree fell a couple of minutes ago, and I'm afraid the next one might hit the cabin and crush me. But… I don't think heading outside is any safer."

A deafening roar made me flinch. I let go of the camera to shield my head as a loud crashing drowned out the other sounds for a few seconds. The floor beneath me shook, and I… screamed.

I fucking screamed.

A couple of moments later everything went back to normal—howling wind, pounding rain, roaring ocean, but I didn't dare to move even an inch.

I was so going to die here. I wasn't going to starve. I wasn't going to die of thirst. I wasn't going to be mauled by a wild animal. I was going to die tonight, taken out by the storm.

Another round of lightning hit, painting a scary web of light in the night sky.

I was going to get crushed or hit by lightning. I was so dying to…

A warm tongue licked my icy cold hand, eliciting a scream from my already sore throat. I'd done a lot of screaming in the last couple of hours. However, the licking didn't stop; my whole hand was getting coated in saliva, hot breath fanning over it, hitting my face through the cracks between my fingers.

I was ninety-nine percent sure I knew who was licking me—there weren't that many big, wild animals that'd do such a thing in the middle of a raging storm, but I still didn't dare lower my hands. What if it wasn't Wolfie? What if it was a different wolf?

My heartbeat was deafening, my whole body trembling as I shook my head in disbelief.

A huge, wet— yet warm—head shoved between my forearms, nudging my chest until I finally dropped my arms. It was hard to see in the darkness of the storm, but I could make out the huge wolf in front of me.

"Wolfie?"

The wolf in question whined and started licking the tears off my face.

"You came back!" And now I was crying again, wrapping my arms around the animal, clinging to it. I'd never let go of him. Sobbing, I hid my face against the fur of his neck, inhaling the scent of wet dog that'd usually gross me out but was like the most heaven-like scent I'd ever smelled right in this moment.

Wolfie had come back.

A laugh broke free, a maniac cackling that turned into a sob. "Please don't leave me," I begged. "Please don't leave me. I don't want to die alone. Please don't let me die here all alone."

The wolf snarled. The noise sounded angry, but I didn't even flinch. I was pretty sure he wasn't angry at me. After a moment, he took a step back, trying to get out of my death grip.

"No!" I shouted, moving forward to keep him in my arms, but the only thing I managed was face-planting to the wet floor.

Wolfie whined, his nose nudging my neck, urging me to move. It took a while, but I managed to get on my feet, and shivered as the rain whipping through the window hit me square in the face, drenching my already wet hair.

Looking for my animalistic friend, I turned around to find him standing in the doorway to the cabin.

"Wolfie?" I asked, voice strained.

The wolf nodded outside, looked back at me, whined, and nodded outside again.

"You want me to go out there?" My voice was high-pitched, filled with panic. My heart hammered against my chest, and I started shaking my head, taking a step back out of reflex. "I don't think that's a good idea."

I could practically see it in front of my inner eye. Me, stumbling almost blindly through the thick forest, my foot getting caught on a root. Breaking my leg, lying on the ground, unable to keep walking.

Me and Wolfie hiking through the storm, a huge branch snapping, burying us beneath it, a smaller branch impaling me, making me bleed out right on the forest floor.

Us walking through the raging storm, the sky lighting up, a lightning bolt hitting a tree in front of us, starting a fire.

A lightning bolt hitting a tree right in front of us, the wet forest floor transmitting the electricity, frying our brains, making our hearts beat erratically before stopping them entirely.

Suddenly, Wolfie was by my side, whining pitifully, pressing his head against my chest. My hands found their way into his fur, grabbing it and holding on for dear life.

"I can't go out there," I whispered, my voice so quiet and broken I could barely hear the words I'd said myself. "I'll die. It's probably safer to stay here."

Wolfie shook his huge head against my chest.

Another bout of lightning illuminated the sky. The roaring thunder was followed by a different noise; it almost sounded like an aching, someone sighing heavily as if they were carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders.

"What the…" I started, but didn't have time to finish. A scream ripped from my throat as I looked through the window and saw a huge, dark something coming right at us.

A tree, my mind helpfully supplied.

"Wolfie!"

The ground shook, the sickening sound of wood hitting wood ripping through the air.

For a second, everything seemed to turn silent.

I just stared and blinked, mouth hanging wide open.

One of the other cabins was just… gone. Crushed beneath the crown of a tree, turned into a myriad of splinters.

My wolf whined again, rounded me, and started shoving his head against my back, efficiently forcing me forward.

I swallowed. "You really think we're safer out there?" I asked, eyes still fixed on the view outside of the cabin.

Wolfie let out a howl, then doubled down on manoeuvring me out of the door.

At the last second, I hesitated, glancing back at the backpack still lying inside of the cabin. I couldn't leave without anything, could I? Then again… the heavy weight would probably only slow me down. What did I need the stuff for, anyway? Cookware? Camping gear? I hadn't managed to make a fire since I'd gotten here—and not for the lack of trying.

The choice was taken away from me as Wolfie shoved me again, sending me stumbling over the threshold of the cabin.

Had I thought the storm was bad from within the cabin? Well, it just turned horrible as the wind gripped me, almost ripping me off my feet. If it wasn't for the huge body behind me, I'd have fallen for sure. The rain was hitting my face so hard it hurt, leaving icy pinpricks behind.

Wiping at my face, I tried clearing my vision, but it didn't help. I could barely see ten feet ahead of me. Everything was a darkish grey, almost black.

My wolf nudged against my arm until it was resting over his back, as if he wanted me to put as much weight on him as possible. Maybe he just wanted me to hold on to him as he started guiding me into the darkness.

I didn't know, and at this point, I didn't really care.

I just held on for dear life and started walking what I was pretty sure was going to be my last walk on this earth.