Page 1 of Found By the Shifter
ONE
Cameron
“Just hold still for one…more…second,”I mutter to the little arctic fox as I snap a few pictures.
The snap of the shutter spooks him, and he darts off through the snow, disappearing with a swish of his tail. I smile as I watch him go, knowing that I got at least a few good shots.
“Ugh,” I groan as I push back up to my feet.
I’m sore from crouching for so long and I’m stiff as I stand. I’m sure that the freezing cold temperatures don’t help much either.
I stomp my feet a few times, trying to get some feeling back into my toes before I turn and follow my footsteps in the snow back the way that I came as I scroll through the pictures that I’ve taken on my hike this afternoon.
The sun is starting to set, and I know that I need to pick up the pace if I want to make it back to the ski resort before it’s dark out.
I take a deep breath, blowing it out in a puff as I make my way down the trail. Snow is starting to come down in soft flurries,and I smile at the beauty and peacefulness of it. Then a gust of wind blows a gust of snow right into my face and my smile drops.
“Why did I choose Alaska for my vacation again?” I mutter to myself as I clomp gracefully through a snowdrift.
Alaska had sounded like such a good idea when I was sweating through my shirts in Africa for the last two months. Now that I’m here, though, I think I underestimated just how cold it would be this far north.
I was on assignment in Africa for the last few months with National Geographic. It was a dream come true and an incredible opportunity. I had dreamed of working with National Geographic since I was a kid and my dad first put a camera in my hands.
Now that I’ve finally reached that dream, I’m feeling a little lost. Hence why I’m currently stomping my way through the snow in Alaska. I had wanted a break after working nonstop for years. I wanted to clear my head and plan out my next move.
So far, I have no idea what I want to do next. Granted, I’ve only been in Aspen Ridge for two days, but I guess I thought I would have at least a few ideas by now.
The sun starts to set behind the mountains, and I feel a little worried. I don’t really remember this part of the trail, and I wonder if I’m close to the resort now.
I’m sure that it’s just around this bend,I assure myself as I try to pick up my pace.
I’m out of breath and my breath stalls in my lungs when I round the corner and just see more trees and snow.
“Shit.”
I can feel myself start to panic, and I take a few deep breaths and try to calm my racing heart as I start to walk again.
What would my dad have told me to do?
My dad loved being outdoors. I think that I got that from him. We used to go hiking together a lot before he passed. I knowthat he would tell me to remain calm and keep a clear head, right now.
I got my love of photography from my dad, too. He was a photographer, though he did weddings and other photoshoots. He always talked about wanting to do more nature photography, but he had a good thing going with his business. I know that he never took that leap because it was just him and me and he needed to support us.
My mom passed away in childbirth having me. I wish that I had been able to meet her, but at least I had my dad. He was the best. Always there for me, always supportive and patient. He was my hero.
I know he would have been proud of me for all I’ve accomplished. I just wish that he was here to see me achieve all of my dreams.
I rub at the ache in my chest and try to push thoughts of my dad to the side as I pick up my pace and hurry down the path.
I’m moving fast, and maybe that’s why I don’t see the fallen tree or the snowbank just behind it.
I trip, stumbling over the log, and gasp as my arms shoot out to brace my fall. My gloves sink into the snow, and my face follows soon after. I shudder, my whole body going cold. I sputter, scrambling to get out of the snow and away from the cold, except there’s nothing for me to push against.
Every time I move, I seem to sink further into the snowbank. I shiver as ice slips down my neck and over my chest.
“Fuck,” I shout, my brain scrambling to come up with a plan to get out of here.
I shouldn’t have come out here. Not alone anyway. I wish that I had asked my best friend, Frankie, to come with me.
