A Cave of Ice: Chapter 4

 We continued to drive on the back roads through the woods. The trees grew increasingly tall but began to turn from lush green pine into darker, dying trees. Leaves, cracked and brown, blanketed the sparse grass and the side of the road. I could feel a sense of bigotry in the air, which told me that we were heading west. At some point during our journey, we had officially entered Pennsyltucky. Pennsyltucky housed the Amish, the tree people, and the backwards. Although all of these groups are unique, they have all undergone genetic mutations as a result of inbreeding. We would noticeably appear as outsiders because of our correct number of limbs and eyeballs.

My companion grew uneasy as the trees grew closer together and we moved further away from civilization. His shaky paws fidgeted with an unlit cigarette while he watched the road from the passenger window.

“Maybe you’ll feel better if you actually smoke it,” I said. The squirrel laughed and raised his jittery paws to place the Newport in his mouth and light it. He sucked on the cigarette until only its orange mouthpiece was left and then threw it over the side of the car. It didn’t seem to help his anxiety. He knew where we were heading and knew what it entailed.

The squirrel wrapped his arms tightly around his half-empty carton and hugged it as if to say a final goodbye. I took my hand off the wheel and reached to remove my hat in respect. I found, however, that there was no hat, so I instead dropped my head in a moment of silence.

Few realize that the squirrels in Pennsyltucky are just as depraved and deformed as the people. The squirrels modeled their behavior after their human neighbors and learned to hate those from the outside world. My companion seemed to be aware of this fact as he frantically scanned the tree trunks for others.

“Calm down, you little rat,” I said. “No one will say shit to you with me here.” I stroked his head with the tip of my finger. Although I tried to give my new friend hope, I too shared his worry. All sorts of monstrosities roam these parts, and they would only grow increasingly deformed and satanic the further we traveled in this direction.

After a few more miles, we began to run low on gas. I turned off the road and followed signs for a nearby town called “Foralacaste.” Or at least that’s what it said when I first looked up. They change the names of these godforsaken towns every twenty seconds.

We drove around until we found the gas station. I pulled in front of the second pump, turned the car off, and opened the door. We did not have much money between us. The squirrel appeared to only carry cigarettes, and I only had the small change left from the milk run. Maybe the attendant would understand? It was unlikely out here, but you never know what you might find mid-day in a gas station. I placed my companion securely on my shoulder and walked inside the store.

We tried to think of a sob story to tell the cashier—like maybe we had just escaped some sort of dangerous situation and there was no time to talk! “We need gas, damn it! There’s no time to explain!”

I knew if we could get the cashier on his heels, then we would have a chance of getting out of there without paying. We just had to trigger an intense anxiety within him and force him to turn on the pump without a second thought.

All eyes were on us by the time we reached the front of the line. The money shook in my hands as I approached the register.

“How’s it going?” I asked the cashier.

“Going,” he replied.

Beads of sweat dropped from my forehead and onto the counter. My limbs felt weak. He looked at me sideways when I asked to buy gas, and then looked outside at the car. Could he tell that we couldn’t afford it? I always hated Pennsyltucky. In my town, man and squirrel could walk hand in hand, but here they lacked acceptance. They didn’t like relationships that they couldn’t understand and did their best to impede them. Two men or two squirrels could walk in here with no issues, but the second a man walks in with his squirrel friend, it becomes a major concern.

The cashier didn’t speak. He stared out the window at the car before turning behind him. I couldn’t tell what he was doing. He didn’t move much and remained silent with his back to us. It felt wrong. I knocked my fist onto the counter twice.

“Hello?” I asked. The man did not answer. He seemed preoccupied with something else.

“Hello?” I asked again. My voice cracked, shooting my pitch up an octave. He still wouldn’t turn to face us. My head shook violently as I scanned the store. It was almost empty, with only one creature in line behind us. He seemed close to human, like one of the mutants had maybe bred with a person a few generations back.

Suddenly, the aisles began to shift towards the exits to barricade us in. My eyes twitched from the angst. I said nothing. The aisles continued to shift from the center of the store. In seconds, they would close us in and leave us trapped.

I didn’t know what to do. The aisles began closing in on the doorway. Sweat fell from my nose and onto the gray tile floor below. They had us caught. Who knows what these depraved mutants would do to us? Horrifying thoughts raced through my head.

I let out a terror-filled scream, threw the car keys at the cashier, and escaped out the door just before the aisles had completely sealed us in. I ran so fast that I was unable to stop my momentum until I was in the middle of the road. A loud honk blasted from my left, followed by a voice.

“Hey, asshole!” he screamed as he honked the car horn. “Get off the road!”

I leaped backward, and with a theatrical bow, allowed him to pass. I had to blend in, you know. I couldn’t go running around making a scene. There was no telling what those monsters were capable of. Manners are important in Pennsyltucky. They do not appreciate the rude.

We made for the nearby woods on foot. The squirrel and I agreed that it was best to stay out of sight for a while. After all, we both were being hunted for a variety of reasons. We skipped merrily across the freeway into the trees. The branches closely surrounded us and scratched at our sides. After we had walked a few yards, I placed my companion on the ground and let him lead the way. I figured he’d have an easier time navigating this terrain than I would.

He didn’t like the idea of walking because he feared running into some of those elitist, greyish-brown squirrels. They tended to move in smaller groups than their albino cousins, which made it difficult to see them coming. At any moment, a small gang of them could jump out of the brush and beat him senseless.

His unease became more and more apparent the further we ventured into the abyss. He shook his head frequently to search for any potential foes. My presence did little to comfort him while he walked on the ground. He knew that they were on the prowl and that those red eyes of his acted as a homing beacon for prejudice.

We marched late into the night, hurtling over a variety of roots and fallen branches. The trees grew together densely and began to appear threatening as the sun fell behind them. I knew that the trees didn’t pose any real threat, but something about the darkness gave them an intimidating look. They seemed more jagged and harsh without the light to display their true form.

We walked through the night and watched the moon trade for the sun. The squirrel began to yawn, but there was no time to sleep. If we stopped, we would become vulnerable. The police probably trailed close behind, and if they didn’t find us, the locals probably would. For all we knew, a gang of vigilante locals could have followed us out here and arranged for our disappearance. No one would question a thing out here. People become lost in the woods all the time, and if they cooked and ate us, there wouldn’t be much evidence to find anyway.

The forest stretched for miles. We walked continuously for several hours until my companion slowed and collapsed into the dirt. I picked him up and placed him into the breast pocket of my shirt. His breath felt slow and strong as he slept. I could feel his body expand and press into my chest with every inhale.

Unlike my rodent friend, I was in no mood to sleep. I somehow maintained peak energy levels despite the long hours of hiking and found no use for it. It felt like I could jump from the ground and take off flying at any moment.

The sun rose well above the trees and washed the coldness from the air. My adrenal glands still fired at a remarkable rate and made the need for sleep appear increasingly irrelevant. The hunters would not sleep, so why should I? Sleep felt like almost certain death.

The squirrel woke up as we approached the base of a steep hill. I felt him nuzzle into my chest before springing his little head from the pocket. The grass on the hill was slick from dew and caused the soft ground to slide into mud underneath me as I began to climb. The squirrel did not climb with me and instead decided to watch from the comfort of my pocket. I guess he liked the safety of it, but it felt unfair that only one of us had to walk.

I clawed my way up the hill, pulling out clumps of dirt and grass as we ascended. My forearms and feet became caked with mud. The squirrel sat and watched as I navigated the steep incline by digging my fingers into the dirt. He laughed whenever my feet began to slide backward.

“I should toss you down and let you climb up here yourself,” I said. I grabbed at the pocket playfully, and the squirrel stopped laughing. I would have done it if I didn’t fear something jumping out of the thick and running off with him.

After a few more minutes of listening to my companion’s mean laughter, we finally reached the top of the hill. The forest separated at the top and made room for a narrow two-lane road. The road looked worn. Its asphalt had faded from black into an elderly gray and had several cracks and divots.

With my companion still in my pocket, I walked on the shoulder of the road with my thumb up. We hoped that someone would take pity on us and give us a ride away from here. A few cars drove past before a beige Crown Victoria pulled alongside us. The window slowly rolled down and revealed a lanky, almost gangly man. His fiercely pale complexion was in complete contrast with his jagged, yellow teeth. Wiry, auburn hair peeked out from different patches on his head and stretched all the way down to his shoulders. He reached out his decrepit hand through the window.

“Get in,” he called.