Short+Story+(Harrison)

**As They Walked**

Snowshoes pressed against the top crust of the frigid snow. With each exhale, a small cloud was born from the mouths of the surviving ten. The wind howled in the freezing Sierra Nevada and whipped the faces of the lost Forlorn Hope.* Mary Ann Graves pressed her delicate hand to her frost-bitten face. Her eyes squinted as the sunlight bounced from the reflective snow and polished granite slabs into her eyes. Her wool clothing hung off her, wet and ragged, like a beggar’s wear. No one spoke. No one could even look at each other. They had done things—horrible things—that should have never been done. Mary Ann had taken part in it too. She tried to justify it, but she couldn’t find anything to ease the knowledge that she had eaten what used to be a living, breathing human being. Mary Ann had the largest burden to bear. She had lost her father. She had had to muster up the strength to listen to him tell her and her older sister, Sarah, that his body needed to be used for food. That it was the only way any of them were to survive and bring salvation to their families snowbound back at the lake. And Mary Ann had to bear not only when the bodies were butchered and consumed, but also knowing someone near her was devouring the body of her father. Mary Ann looked back and saw her sister, Sarah, walking with her husband, Jay Fosdick. Sarah at least had someone. She had someone to weep to, to tell how sorry they were, how vile they felt. Mary Ann had no one. She was left to deal with this on her own, and it wasn’t fair. She balled her hands into fists and trudged on in her improvised snow-shoes. Everyone had someone but her. Luis had Salvador. Sarah had Jay. William Foster had his wife. Harriett Pike traveled with Amanda McCutchen. All that was left was William Eddy. Mary Ann made her way up to him. She just wanted to be near someone, to walk in line with someone who understood. Eddy kept his eyes trailed ahead and kept walking, his breath coming out like steam from a steam engine. Mary Ann didn’t blame him; she didn’t want to talk either. “Where the devil are we?” It was the first voice they had heard all day. Mary Ann stopped in her tracks and turned around, as did the others. It was William Foster. “We are lost, are we not?” Mary Ann saw Sarah clutch Jay’s arm as she watched the scene unfold before her. Mary Ann’s jealously flared up again. “We must keep moving,” Luis said with his accent. He spoke very little English. “Why?” spat Foster. “So you can lead us //farther// away from help?” “Listen to the man,” Eddy said beside Mary Ann. “We have to keep moving.” “Are we really lost, Eddy?” Amanda McCutchen said with a worried look. One of the women back at the lake was looking after her infant. Eddy didn’t respond. <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">Harriett Pike turned on the Miwoks. “Look what you have got us into.” <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">William Foster uttered a racist word towards Luis and Salvador. <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">“They said we have to keep moving,” voiced Sarah. <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">“Why don’t we just turn back?” Foster said bitterly. <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">“What?” Amanda said baffled. “We cannot turn back now.” <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">“No,” Salvador said shaking his head. “Keep going.” <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">“Why should we keep going when we do not even know where we are?” Foster yelled, his voice echoing against the towering mountains. <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">“You expect us to just lie here and starve?” Mary Ann asked. <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">“What are we supposed to do then, Foster?” Jay said with his assertive voice. Sarah held tighter onto Jay’s strong arm. “We are trying to get our families help, not give up and go back.” <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">“I would rather die than go back and watch my brothers and sisters starve,” Mary Ann said.^ <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">“Listen to them, Foster,” Eddy pressed. His calloused hand held onto the flint-rock rifle. The tip rested on the white snow. <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">“We might die if we go forward,” Harriett said. <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">“We //will// die if we go back,” Jay said. <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">Mary Ann could take this no longer. “We did not travel all this way to just turn back. We did not just do that horrible—terrible—thing to just turn back. Jay is right. If we turn around, we will die. And where does that leave our families? They starve and perish because we could not make it out of these mountains. <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">“Sarah and I already lost our father. I do not want to lose our mother and siblings also.” Mary Ann stuck out a cold finger and pointed at Sarah Foster. “You already lost your brother. //He is// //dead//.” Sarah Foster uttered a gasp at the mention of her dead thirteen-year-old brother and hid her eyes in her husband’s chest. “If we do not keep moving, who knows how many more of us will die? I know the answer: if we do not keep moving, we all will perish. I want to live and I want to see my family again. So with or without any of you, I am going with Luis and Salvador.” <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">Mary Ann stared at the party for a couple of seconds letting the truth sink in then turned towards the Miwoks. Luis and Salvador started to walk the path they were on before; Mary Ann barely three steps behind. <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">The other seven stared at the Indians and the pretty, young woman moving away from them. Sarah Foster broke away from the crowd and her husband and started to move forward. Then all the others fell into line behind them, back on the trek to find safety. <span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">As they walked atop the treacherous snow, their fate was being sealed. There were ten of them walking now, but only seven would make it out of the mountains alive.

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;">*The Forlorn Hope was the name Charles McGlashan gave the Snowshoe Party in his book about the Donner Party.

<span style="font-family: Georgia,serif; font-size: 120%;"> **^**Mary Ann Graves actually said that when arguing over when to turn back or not.