Ezra started suddenly and realized the fire had almost died out. He scrambled to get it back in shape. It took a fair bit of effort, but he was able to keep it alive. The fear of letting the fire go out left him tense. Just as he was beginning to relax, he heard a strange noise.

He spun, searching frantically for the source. He heard it again and knew it was an animal sound, but he wasn’t sure what type of creature would make such a strange noise. He couldn’t quite place if it was a growl or something else.

He slowed his breathing and listened intently. The moment seemed to stretch on forever. He strained, listening for any hint of sound, but there was nothing except for silence.

He felt a sudden sting on the back of his neck. He called out in pain and placed his hand on the source of the sting. He felt warm blood pooling in his hand.

He removed his hand from his neck and placed it in front of him. Ezra was shocked at how much blood he found there. The blood continued gushing out of him like a geyser.

He tried to put pressure on it, but it overflowed and leaked down the side of his neck and eventually became so severe that it spread out over his shoulder to the front of his neck and dripped onto his chest.

Then he heard an ear-piercing shriek and the rapid fluttering of wings. A giant bat swooped down on him and sunk it fangs deep into his throat. His final words were the customary gurgling noises accompanied by drowning in one’s own blood.

###

Ezra woke with a start and found a large pool of drool leaking down his face onto his neck and chest. He wiped his face quickly and rose to his feet to counteract the lethargy.

Then he stretched, letting out a long, loud yawn. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked around the cave.

No giant bats. He laughed silently to himself. Of course there were no giant bats. Then he remembered the fire. It had severely died down and he saw that it was on the brink of being snuffed out. He acted immediately, working quickly to revive it.

Once the fire was burning brightly again, he exhaled with relief. Glad that his ordeal had been a mere dream and that he had awakened in time to save the fire from dying.

He sensed the need to relieve himself and made his way to the cave’s exit. As he stepped through the threshold, memories of the bear flashed through his mind, sending a shiver down his spine.

As if this reminder hadn’t left him cold enough, he was hit with a powerful gust of icy wind that chilled him to the bone.

He found a place he deemed suitable and emptied his bladder as quickly as possible. Then shuffled back toward shelter. The warmth of the cave was a stark contrast to the chill of the open air. He made his way back inside when something caught his eye.

A glint he hadn’t noticed before. Or had he? Ezra felt a strange sense of deja vu wash over him as he gazed upon the anomaly. It looked like a reflection. He wondered if maybe there was some water dripping in the cave that had accumulated slowly, leaving a pool.

He checked on the fire again to make sure it was still in good health, then ventured further into the cave to investigate. He took a makeshift torch as a light source and set a methodic pace as he searched carefully.

He followed the path where he thought he’d seen the reflection and the effect seemed to grow stronger. He stopped at a point where he saw what looked like a small tunnel. Intrigued, he moved in closer. Inch by inch.

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He could have sworn it went deeper but he couldn’t tell if the manner in which the shadows fell on the cave wall were simply playing tricks on his perception.

He leaned in closer to peer inside and he felt his footing slip out from under him. He heard a heavy rumble and crack, followed by the sound of falling rocks.

He’d been caught in a collapse... He felt himself falling.

###

The cave shook violently, and Vincent bolted awake, bewildered.

His heart was hammering in his chest, and he could hear the pounding rhythm of his heartbeat filling his ears.

He felt a flush of warmth as blood rushed through his body and his mind worked furiously to catch up with the flood of stimuli assaulting his senses.

He felt a familiar sickness in his stomach. A strange mixture of anticipation and fear. He scanned the area in search of Ezra and quickly surmised he was nowhere in the vicinity.

A heaviness hung in the air around him as he slowly began to accept a disturbing idea.

That the loud cacophony which had rudely awakened him was undoubtedly, a collapse... and Ezra was almost certainly there as it happened.

He knew it would be unwise at this point to walk on an unsteady leg and risk a fall, so he opted to crawl toward the sounds of upheaval. He huffed as he pulled himself along, aware that he was using muscles in a way he was unaccustomed to.

His face reddened from the effort and a mist of sweat appeared on his forehead. He had to get to the site of collapse fast. If Ezra was buried under the rocks, Vincent didn’t have long to rescue him before he bled out or suffocated.

After what seemed like miles of crawling, Vincent reached a point in the cave with a large pile of stones.

The pathways were nearly buried and he was struck with dread as he calculated the likelihood that Ezra had survived. He began to dig through the rubble, hoping to find any sign of him.

He pulled ungracefully at the stones, trying to toss them far enough away that he could continue to dig, but found it difficult in his awkward position.

He tried to crawl up the heap to find better positioning and found the climb to be painful and agitating. Nevertheless, he continued to dig as fast as his body would allow, knowing that time was of the essence. His efforts seemed futile as he began to tire, and the pile barely seemed to budge at all.

He continued his frenzied digging until exhaustion and sorrow overtook him. He screamed, throwing rocks in frustration. Then gave up, hung his head and cried.

"I’m sorry brother. I was too late... too weak."

He was consumed with an overwhelming sense of guilt. After all these years, the final moments with his dearest friend were marked with betrayal and anger. He would never be able to speak with Ezra again. Never be able to apologize. Never be able to gain closure.

Hot tears streamed down his face and he inhaled noisily attempting to catch his breath. The combination of full body weeping, coupled with his exhaustion from digging, left him gasping for air.

He rested his head against the rubble, listening to the sound of his own uneven breath. The rhythm eventually leveled out and Vincent sat lost in his own thoughts for a time. Not bothering to move from where he was.

It still didn’t feel quite real and he had to clear his thoughts. As he gained clarity, he realized that he needed to start thinking about his next steps and how on earth he would manage the trip back to camp.

"It’s a long shot for sure, but I can make it. I can make it." He repeated, this time out loud, in a vain attempt to convince himself.

Who am I kidding? It’s over. I might as well lay down and die right here.

He rested his head against the rubble again and closed his eyes. Then sighed. It was strangely comforting. Something about letting go and accepting his own death provided an indescribable warmth like he was being wrapped in an invisible blanket.

His mind drifted to distant long forgotten memories. He remembered the apple tree he used to climb in front of his grandmother’s house. Then he remembered the fresh apple pie cooling on the windowsill. Made from the apples picked from that same tree.

He could taste the sweet filling, the flaky crust and the tantalizing aroma filling his nostrils. He thought of his family back home. He thought how he’d failed them and was momentarily struck with a sense of guilt that tainted his moment of happiness.

He struggled not to dwell on it. He longed for a peaceful death. Only the good memories, he thought to himself. Then suddenly, he heard Ezra’s voice. It was distant, as if it had floated from far off in the past.

He heard it again, but no specific memory came readily to mind. He focused more intently on it and realized that it wasn’t distant as much as it was muffled. His eyes flashed open.

"Ezra?"

"Vincent!" His voice sounded shaky and scared. It was a suppressed yell.

"Ezra!" He said aloud.

He began to dig again frantically. Bolstered by the fact that his friend was still alive.

"I’m coming," he shouted. "Hold on!" He listened for the sound of Ezra’s voice and allowed that to be the guide as he continued to unearth the rubble. He finally found what looked like an opening and Ezra’s voice rang out much louder. Then he called out again.

"Ezra, are you okay?"