Free Donners of the Dead by Karina Halle

knew it wasn’t true, and judging by the looks on Isaac and Hank’s shadowed faces, I knew they didn’t think it was true either. I didn’t know what they thought at all, but you can bet I was dying to find out.
    Soon, Jake and Tim came back into the cabin. I tried to tear my eyes off Jake and his long johns that conformed to his massive body, but it was hard. It was the only thing that momentarily took my mind away from what happened.
    Unfortunately, it seemed that Jake and Tim had formed the same opinion as Donna and Avery, though both of them couldn’t fathom why someone would come in here and not hurt anyone, not steal anything, and jump out the window. The glass would have hurt—why didn’t he just go through the door? Was he mad?
    And just when they were staring at his escape route, I was hit with another smell. I got out of bed and looked at the window. There was a thin trail of blood leading from the broken glass all the way to my bed. I looked around and saw a few drops of blood on the hides and quickly examined myself to see if I was bleeding. I wasn’t.
    “What the dickens?” Avery exclaimed as we saw the trail lead away from my bed and over to Meeks. We all stared at the jolly, plump man in horror as he lifted up his arm. Soon his eyes were just as wide as ours as rivulets of shiny blood ran down his sleeve.
    Mervin Meeks was missing his pinky finger.

Chapter Five
    T he silence stretched out until it was shattered by Meeks’ scream. Avery and Jake jumped to attention, rushing over to him, trying to calm him as he launched into hysterics. I couldn’t move, couldn’t take my eyes off of him. My brain filtered through the last five minutes and brought up the image of a bloody mouth inches from mine.
    My Lord. That person, that pale thing , had bitten off Meeks’ finger. He must have been in shock when it happened. How on earth could something like that even happen in the first place? It was unheard of.
    “Savages,” Jake snarled, holding up the hand and inspecting it while Avery and Tim were now trying to hold him down. He eyed me with hate. “Your kind of savages.”
    I was too dumbstruck to care what he said about me or my kind. As savage as some Indians could be—believe me, I’d been exposed to all the stories—I also knew that none of them would do such a horrible, inhuman thing. Indians would never consume part of another human being. I couldn’t imagine anyone doing so, no matter what color they were or what they believed. They were people, not animals.
    Donna finally snapped out of her religious daze and started helping them tend to Meeks’ hand. Tim had poured a lot of moonshine down his throat, so the thrashing calmed, and soon he was passed out. I sat on my bed with my knees drawn to my chest and watched until I noticed Isaac and Hank get up and head outside, blankets wrapped around their shoulders, rifles in tow.
    Curiously I got up, slipped on my boots, and followed them out the door. Everyone else was so preoccupied with the disfigured Meeks that they didn’t even notice.
    Outside it was crisp and cold, and I wasn’t surprised to see a few flakes of snow starting to fall from the sky. It wasn’t very heavy—just sprinkles—but I knew come morning there would at least be an inch or two on the ground. I was grateful for the ramshackle lean-to on the other side of the cabin where the horses were being kept, sheltered from the elements. I should have gone over and checked on them, but on this moonless night, I stayed by the dim glow of the cabin.
    Isaac and Hank were nowhere in sight, but I had a feeling they were trying to track the way the person went. I could smell the person’s boots rising up from the scuffled footprints on the ground along with the scent of Meeks’ attacker, a mixture of blood and rot.
    I went as far as I could into the forest without losing sight of the cabin and then stopped. I was better off with the horses than with Isaac and Hank in these dark,