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THERE WAS NO sign of Josh or the gun anywhere around Florence and her anxiety was rising. She had to get to Josh before the creature could do anything to him and she couldn't go into the mines without a gun. There, she was likely to go up against more of the creatures defending their territory and being defenseless wasn't an option.
"Shit!" Florence cursed after she pulled herself up from the ground and onto her feet. Frustrated didn't do her current emotions justice.
Every inhale she took or slight downward movement sent waves of pain throughout her chest, telling her that she must have bruised or cracked her ribs when she was thrown into the tree. Lifting her parka and Josh's sweatshirt up, her concerned gaze was met with light purple bruises forming around her ribs — confirming her theory.
She pushed her parka and the sweatshirt back down with a grunt, forcing the pain to the back of her mind as to focus on finding the gun and searching for Josh in the mines. Josh had to be her main concern now, for he was in the hands of a hostile creature who obviously wanted to hurt them.
As Florence strained her eyes to find the gun in the dark forest, she spotted a totem lying in the snow a few feet away from her.
Curiously, she picked up the totem and turned it over, noting the yellow frame.
» Florence came to a crossroads inside the mines. Before her stood two different pathways, one with faint footprints coursing through the gravel and dirt and the other echoing the distant scream of what sounded like Josh.
She followed the footprints, praying that she had made the right choice. »
Florence set the totem back in its rightful place and continued to move through the snow in her search for the gun before she ventured into the mines.
Her arms unconsciously wrapped around her torso as consistent waves of pain rolled through her chest. Unbeknownst to her, the bruising was getting darker as the minutes passed her by.
Every step, every inhale, pained her. Sharp shooting pains soared through her ribs and rolled around her chest, yet she forced herself to keep moving. Florence Stone had been through more in the last eight hours than most people would go through in their entire lifetime, and still, she refused to give in to her body's pleads for her to stop.
Finding Josh and saving him from the evils that lurked on Mount Washington was the only thing that mattered anymore. Nothing else could wriggle its way into her head because she couldn't see beyond her objective; rescuing Josh.
Despite pain radiating throughout her whole body from the trauma it had experienced since the beginning of the night, her feet carried her through the snowy forest.
With a focused glare facing forwards, Florence kept moving and simultaneously scoured the area for the gun she dropped minutes ago.
Silent words of self-encouragement flowed inside her mind to keep her adrenaline pumping, for it was the only thing keeping her from collapsing due to the searing pain in her ribs and the reappearing splitting sensation in her head from the concussion she got hours earlier.
A distant screech brought Florence out of her head and back into reality.
Her heart picked up within an instant, her feet catching on and forcing her forwards at a quicker pace.
As she desperately searched for the gun, heavy pants brought her chest up and down. Her ribs screamed but she had no time to worry about her injuries when another monster was nearby and possibly targeting her.
Panic rumbled in her body and mind.
Another thunderous screech carried through the trees — closer than it was before.
"Shit, shit, shit!" Florence cursed to herself, wildly searching for the gun.
Time was running out and the pain in her chest and head was getting worse.
Florence felt tears of frustration and anxiety prick her eyes, but she swiped them away with the back of her hands; there was no time for tears. As she jogged through the forest in search of her gun, she tripped over an unseen root and tumbled to the ground.
With a grunt, she braced herself just in time to land on her wrist instead of hitting her head once more. A dull ache spread through her wrist, adding onto the extensive list of injuries that seemed to be piling up. She could only hope it was just sprained.
A roar shook the ground behind her.
Still sprawled out on the ground, Florence spun her head around to see another fleshy creature darting around with wild eyes. It couldn't have been more than three hundred feet away, sending a pulse of adrenaline mixed with anxiety into her veins.
She turned back around, shuffling through the snow in hopes that the gun was nearby. Upon spotting an exposed metal object about ten feet away, Florence let out a relieved sigh.
"Oh, thank God." Florence cried to herself, crawling through the snow to reach the discarded gun she spotted from several feet away.
The freezing snow burned her fingertips as she dusted the gun off. Every cut and bruise the decorated her frigid skin ached with every step she took, but she refused to stop.
Taking a deep breath, she ensured that the gun was loaded with enough bullets to defend herself before continuing her trek through the desolate forest.
A roar echoed from behind her, causing her to break into a painstaking sprint, the gun gripped tightly in her trembling hands.
Her legs, muscles burning with exhaustion and screaming in pain, carried her as quickly as they could manage as far away as possible from the roaring creature.
Screeches echoed in the freezing air.
Heavy pants brought her chest up and down, the air burning her throat.
Her vision blurred with a thick layer of frightened tears.
Every time her boots slammed into the snow-covered terrain, a shockwave of pain rolled throughout her ribcage as though someone had been repeatedly beating her.
A yelp slipped past her lips as she just barely managed to jump over an exposed root which would have tripped her.
The smoldering fire of hope the resided in her mind began to burn out, for she knew she couldn't keep running for much longer.
There was no indication of shelter anywhere around her and all of her wounds were screaming in agony.
As much as she wanted to believe she could make it out alive, she was losing her grip on her certainty.
The only chance she had at making it out was wounding the creature behind her with whatever bullets she had left and buying herself enough time to find a good hiding place.
Just as she was about to cock her gun, she felt claws dig into her calf muscle and a strong force yank her backwards.
Florence's petrified scream echoed in the snowy forest for her friends to hear from the lodge.
Now locked inside the fleshy grip of the creature she had been running from for what seemed like hours, she was taken into the mines.
