I wait in the shadows. Stomach gurgling. Muscles exhausted. My recent supplies lasted a whole two days before perishing from the elements and merciless creatures of the woodlands. The grazers of the forest leave me be, but the predators keep a swift nose on my supplies. A remorseless black bear savaged the last supply of deli meats I had, leaving me with bread crumbs of premium crackers and a crushed sardine can. I need new supplies. Winter is coming and I am not prepared.

​

I made sure to pack away any gear and food I had left in a dense bush. I would have to find a new hiding spot for my new supplies to avert any unwanted scavengers.

 

The sounds of children laughing dim. All that’s left from their bond fire is a pit of hot embers, sizzling when drops of light rain fall on the surface. I should have worn my rain coat, but I’ll have to do without it.

​

Children and adults saunter back in to their cabins and flick off the lights. The lake does not glisten tonight. The moon hides behind thunderous clouds. It’s too perfect.

 

I dash from the bushes to a rack of canoes. I pop my head up, scanning the area. Silent and empty. I scamper from the canoes to a wooden outhouse. I peer around the corner. Still silent and empty. I leave for the main cabin, but stumble to the ground. My foot tangles with a string of bells. With every move I make the louder the bells chimes. I pull my knife tucked behind my back and cut away the string. Once I’m free I scurry under the deck of the main cabin. The drizzling rain falls faster and thicker. The door to the kitchen lies at the other end of the building.

 

I continue moving. I creep below windows and doors with windows. The lights are off, but I can’t risk being seen by night walkers. I’m steps away from the kitchen door when the sound of growling peers around the corner. A four legged dog appears from the shadow. Its head lowers to the ground with its teeth snarled and back curled. I raise my hands and crouch to the ground. The creature snarls and stands defiantly in its place. I slowly reach my hand behind my back and pull out a scrap of meat. I toss it in front of the dog and it lowers its head toward the meat. It sniffs, licks it lips and snatches the meat, gobbling every inch down its slobbery throat. I pull out the last scrap of meat left and raise it in front of the dog. I sway the meat back in forth.

 

The dog takes a step toward me, mouth gaped open. I step forward, but the dog doesn’t back down. The dog licks its teeth and huffs. It snaps at my hand and pull back. The dog barks and lunges at me, knocking me to the ground. The dog chomps at my hand. It continues chomping long after the meat it gone. The flavor of smoked ham lingers on my hand, mixing with saliva and blood. I punch the dog and it bounces back with its teeth snarled. I cup my tattered hand. The pain excruciates with a simple touch. Angered, I kick the dog and it squeals. It shakes off the pain and growls, stepping closer to me. My heart thuds faster, pumping more blood out of my hand. I back away and it barks, louder and louder. Lights inside the building flicker on. I turn and run back to the bush I once came from, but stumble to the ground. The string of chiming bells coils around my ankles. The dog darts after me. I bury my head in the cold wet mud, awaiting agony. The dog lunges on my body, ripping at my clothes and tearing at my skin.

 

The silhouette of a man steps out from the lite building. He whistles and the dog retrieves to him.

 

I shudder on the ground. The man walks toward me and crouches down by my body and raises my head. His brow lowers and he frowns.

 

“We finally got you,” the man says, dropping my head. He lifts my upper body and carries me under his arms. “It’s over hermit.”

 

I don’t fight the strong man. I give in for my body is weak, and my hand won’t last in the wild. The man’s right. It is over.