Chapter 8: The Chase
The ice crystals formed into sharp icicles on Ivan’s unshaven, freshly grown beard and painfully dug into his frost bitten skin. Wintry swirls of gusty, cold wind repeatedly pounded Ivan in his back urging him to drive faster. As each precious minute ticked by, the daylight disappeared and the temperature continued to drop to unbearable conditions. Ivan could no longer see Dmitry and Vovan in front him. Using the last drops of his diminishing will power and ignoring the alarming numbness that has taken hold of his body, he gunned his snowmobile to its full power. The machine responded well and quickly climbed a small hill overlooking a vast, snow covered forest. Ivan stopped to look around. Searching the landscape, he spotted two dark figures in a sea of white, half a kilometer diagonally ahead of him. The other hunters were standing by a stream, occasionally shimmering in the dusk, evidently pondering the best way to cross it. Encouraged, Ivan revved his snowmobile once again and carefully proceeded to descend. It should have taken him a few short minutes, but with poor visibility and randomly frozen ice patches, easy descent turned into a white knuckle crawl. Half way down the hill, Ivan looked up towards the other hunters in hopes of getting their attention, but the dark figures were gone. Cursing loudly Ivan screamed in frustration. The realization of how isolated and lost he was created a treacherous pang in his stomach. By now, the darkness has fully presented itself and traveling was virtually impossible. Thinking hard to himself he wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him. Could he have hallucinated two dark figures? In his past life of treating patients, Ivan was known to be very level-headed and calm under pressure. His former colleagues often marveled at his steel like determination in critical circumstances, often calling him brass monkey behind his back. Without hesitation, Ivan decided that the only way to check out his hallucinations was to drive up to the exact spot where he thought he saw those hunters standing. Swerving and veering his snowmobile, Ivan eventually reached his intended destination. He was right. The footprints in the snow were unmistakable. His eyes did not deceive him. Whoever was standing here before must have noticed him descending from the hill and decided to leave. One thing was certain, it was neither Dmitry or Vovan. They would have waited.
The ice crystals formed into sharp icicles on Ivan’s unshaven, freshly grown beard and painfully dug into his frost bitten skin. Wintry swirls of gusty, cold wind repeatedly pounded Ivan in his back urging him to drive faster. As each precious minute ticked by, the daylight disappeared and the temperature continued to drop to unbearable conditions. Ivan could no longer see Dmitry and Vovan in front him. Using the last drops of his diminishing will power and ignoring the alarming numbness that has taken hold of his body, he gunned his snowmobile to its full power. The machine responded well and quickly climbed a small hill overlooking a vast, snow covered forest. Ivan stopped to look around. Searching the landscape, he spotted two dark figures in a sea of white, half a kilometer diagonally ahead of him. The other hunters were standing by a stream, occasionally shimmering in the dusk, evidently pondering the best way to cross it. Encouraged, Ivan revved his snowmobile once again and carefully proceeded to descend. It should have taken him a few short minutes, but with poor visibility and randomly frozen ice patches, easy descent turned into a white knuckle crawl. Half way down the hill, Ivan looked up towards the other hunters in hopes of getting their attention, but the dark figures were gone. Cursing loudly Ivan screamed in frustration. The realization of how isolated and lost he was created a treacherous pang in his stomach. By now, the darkness has fully presented itself and traveling was virtually impossible. Thinking hard to himself he wondered if his eyes were playing tricks on him. Could he have hallucinated two dark figures? In his past life of treating patients, Ivan was known to be very level-headed and calm under pressure. His former colleagues often marveled at his steel like determination in critical circumstances, often calling him brass monkey behind his back. Without hesitation, Ivan decided that the only way to check out his hallucinations was to drive up to the exact spot where he thought he saw those hunters standing. Swerving and veering his snowmobile, Ivan eventually reached his intended destination. He was right. The footprints in the snow were unmistakable. His eyes did not deceive him. Whoever was standing here before must have noticed him descending from the hill and decided to leave. One thing was certain, it was neither Dmitry or Vovan. They would have waited.
Examining his options, Ivan aggressively rubbed his hands to warm up. The gusty wind had died down. Somewhere in the distance, shrill howls of the wolves pierced through the velvety stillness of the night, echoing for a brief moment. Unnerved, Ivan looked around and spotted several silhouettes, wolfish, at the edge of the forest to his right. At least three of the wolves stood motionless, almost statue-like looking in his direction, while the rest of the small pack tumbled around, pulling on one another. Ivan froze, staring at his soon-to-be attackers. As time stood still and the freezing weather no longer bothered him, Ivan did his best to assess the distance between the wolves and himself. He figured he had just over a kilometer lead to make a run for his life. And just as his right hand reached to turn the throttle of the snowmobile, the foremost wolf of the three stepped forward, howling. Even from some distance, Ivan could tell that his size was impressive. The wolf crouched, still howling, preparing to attack. The others slowly followed, growling louder and louder. Grimacing, but regaining control of his fear, Ivan gripped the handlebar and turned the throttle. He barely passed the half-frozen stream when he heard the wolves howling much closer. ‘Jesus, these beasts are fast!’ a thought raced through his mind. He gunned the machine to its full power, flying through the night at 35 kilometers. The glittering moon sensing a bloody outcome disappeared behind a large cloud. The only light illuminating the pitch black dark landscape was the fire burning in the wolves eyes, gaining ground on Ivan. Still holding out hope that he may survive, Ivan continued to look around as he climbed another hill, thinking of an escape from a looming carnage. Briefly he considered getting to the closest forest line, to climb a tree, but then quickly realized that the hungry creatures would probably wait him out. He couldn't stop and make a stand against them since they would rip him to pieces in a matter of seconds. There was no one around to scream for help. Just as Ivan’s desperation spiked to all time high, an increasingly loud low frequency whump-whump-whump sound turned his attention behind him. He wondered if a helicopter was flying somewhere near-by. Still gunning the machine while avoiding slippery ice patches, Ivan mastered another hill in record time. He ignored his adrenaline-fueled state and allowed himself to briefly look back to see how close the wolves have gotten. The fastest and the biggest wolf was coming in faster then the rest. Ivan gaged him at about 100 yards out. His burning eyes narrowed and his lips curled back, showing his incisors. The wolf seemed to be smirking at his prey. His friends were also gaining ground and broke into formation getting ready to attack Ivan on his exposed flank. Angrily, Ivan turned back around to look ahead for an escape route. The chase continued for a brief moment before Ivan looked back again. He wasn’t wrong earlier when he thought he heard a helicopter. Just over the top of the snow covered trees, he saw the chopper. The blades of the bird above were unmistakably thunderous as they got closer. It sounded like the helicopter lost control and was flying through the night in a vortex.
The wolves also noticed the overhead noise, but appeared unwilling to let their prey flee unscathed. Sensing that Ivan might escape, they jolted through the air with intensified speed. Ivan looked back and noticed that the monster wolf was almost on top of him, no more than 5 meters away. He could see the reddish tongue moving in it’s mouth, saliva dripping from its jaws. Instinctively, Ivan looked away. His heart was pounding so fast it made it hard to breathe. He couldn’t hear anything except the pulsating vibration in his burning ears. When the tail end blade of the helicopter broke off and flew past the snowmobile almost clipping it, Ivan’s breathing stopped altogether. The blade of the tail hit the ground with considerable force, disturbing the snow. A flash of white powder blew upwards in a vertical blur obscuring the left side visibility for Ivan. He smiled. The eyes on the back of his head told him that the monster wolf was jumping for the kill. The chase was almost over. Ivan swerved, violently, blindly, right into the snow created veil. He miscalculated only by a quarter of a meter. The wolf came quickly up behind him, flying through the night air and landing with his left back paw right on the razor sharp helicopter blade, slicing it. A spatter of blood from the animal’s leg covered the surrounding snow. Ivan looked into the wolf’s hazel eyes feeling mixed relief. He realized that the threat of being torn apart by a pack of wolves may have neutralized itself, but his momentary relief quickly withered. Once the rest of the wolves saw what happened to their leader and heard his wailing growl, they proceeded forward in a double-envelopment flanking manoeuvre. Ivan turned around and realized that retreating was impossible. He would not make it to the nearest tree behind him. This is where he was going to make his last stand.
He leaned his body forward, staring at the dangerously nearing pack when the rest of the helicopter flew through the air like a tornado and slammed into the ground alongside the tree line with colossal force. For a moment, the ground shook. The trees seemed to buckle. The helicopter finally stopped moving and came to rest about fifty yards away from Ivan. The wolves shrieked angrily, exposing their jaws. Carefully watching Ivan and the mangled metal ball to his left, they briskly raised their muzzles, sniffing the air. Ivan realized that the crashed helicopter was probably leaking fuel, which was what alerted the wolves. Remarkably, their attention switched to the monster wolf, who by now was lying on his side, heavily gasping for air. The closest wolf to the leader grabbed him by his unharmed leg and began to drag him away. The others howled surrounding them. Out of nowhere, a shot rang out and clipped one of the smaller wolves at the back of the pack. Ivan looked up into the dark night and thought he saw two figures running towards him.
Trying to make out the silhouettes, he thought that one of the figures could have been Vovan. His gait has always been uneven, favouring the left side. Ivan felt further reassured when Vovan yelled at him. He couldn't make out the words, but he definitely recognized Vovan's croaky baritone. A slow, shaky smile materialized on his face as he waived to his friends. They still appeared far enough away that it would take them half an hour to reach Ivan. By now, the wolf pack dragged their alpha some twenty yards away and all the while he continued to growl, gasping for air. Another shot rang through the night, hastening the pack's departure. Ivan watched as they carefully proceeded to follow their tracks back to the frozen stream. He fell onto the snow, exhausted. His frost bitten eyelids slowly closed as he laid back on the snow feeling his body go limp. An arctic wind hovered above his drained torso, fluttering his jacket and moving towards his drenched boots. Falling snowflakes covered his face like a thousand sharp needles. Somewhere in the night, he could hear his friends yelling his name. His mind started to drift... All of a sudden, Ivan sat up. An overpowering odor of fuel hit him like a wall, almost gagging him. He scrambled to get up, but his body refused to obey. Feeling himself getting angry again, he willed his legs to hold still. Just as he managed to get up right, a deafening blast forced him to fall back down. A large ball of orange fire emerged from the destroyed helicopter, quickly turning into black smoke. Ivan watched the smoke fill the night air and closed his eyes.
