When Winter Comes | Book 4 | Masks of Bone

by Willcocks, Daniel

  Alex went to offer a hand to Damien, then remembered his rifle hanging over his arm. He guided Damien’s hand to his side and told him to hold on tight. Without a word, Alex started walking, torch in one hand, rifle ready in the other.

  Their footsteps beat the soundtrack to their march. It seemed endless, infinite. They passed no sign of any kind of difference until they came to the fork in the tunnel.

  “Which way?” Damien asked, big eyes glancing between the two.

  Alex examined both entrances. He studied the ground, looking for footprints, but found nothing of note. It wasn’t until he neared the left entrance and saw something on the edge of the torch’s reach that he took another few steps forward.

  Another one. Broken and burned and lying in a heap on the floor. A pile of blackened bones and ashen skin. This one sported no mask, either, but it didn’t need one. The face was the only part left intact, and this one had the decency to at least try to appear human. The skin was a sickly hue, the eyes wide and lifeless. The cheeks sunk in and the lips had peeled back, receded until all that showed was teeth and gum. But it was still human, at least in part. Alex wondered about that. About the stages of deterioration of the wendigo and the pecking order of the creatures. In most packs and groups there was a hierarchy. How many academics had had the chance to study this? To work out the order of the wendigo and preach it to the world. Could this be Alex’s greatest project?

  Wishful thinking.

  First, he had to survive.

  “This way,” Alex said.

  Damien hurried. Alex stepped around the wendigo, and Damien followed. A few meters ahead, another body. This one human. A teen. A boy. There was a welt on his head and a peaceful smile on his face which stood in stark contrast to the bite marks and holes that littered his body. They had feasted, even as the boy had made his last stand. A hammer lay in the cup of his limp hand.

  Bile rose in Alex’s throat. He turned away, took a steadying breath, then walked on.

  They came across more of them the further into the tunnel they went. Three of them were dead and dealt with, and that gave Alex confidence. The one thing he was sure of now was that these things, no matter what fucked up genetic makeup they exhibited, could be killed. Fire, steel, and gunpowder could destroy them. If they could die, there was a chance the others could survive.

  Body number four was bordering on death. They heard it up ahead, a long time before it came into view, the tunnel magnifying its pitied efforts at crawling to safety. It dragged its shattered body with determined fingers, mouth still snapping, teeth clapping as it pulled itself away. There were no legs, only a torso, arms, and half a face. The other half had somehow caved in.

  Alex debated using his rifle, until he found a nearby rock and used that, instead. Damien covered his eyes as Alex bashed in the creature’s skull, a wet smack with every rise and fall until the body shuddered and fell still.

  Satisfied, Alex discarded the rock with a loud clatter. He resumed his grip on the gun, continued into the dark.

  He wasn’t sure how long they had walked for, but it was clear that Damien was beat. His feet dragged behind him, his shoulders slumped. The torch kept them warm and that made Damien cosy. His eyelids fluttered, half-shut as he staggered onwards, and it was just as Alex thought the kid might fold over and collapse that he spotted the pile of bodies ahead. He couldn’t count how many there were. All that remained were blackened bones and charred walls. In the center of the bodies, an ember still burned, billowing out a sour smell that landed on Alex’s tongue and made him wretch.

  Damien continued walking, unfazed by this latest development. It wasn’t until Alex was about to pull him back that he spotted the boy heading towards a ladder. Alex held the flame higher and spotted something that looked like a hatch in the ceiling.

  His mind was bombarded with calculations and deductions, his heart fluttering as he tried to understand what he was seeing. There was a way out. Something had burned these creatures, fought them back. Could that mean what he thought it meant? They were through that hatch? Whatever survivors there were, they were through there?

  Cody? Could it truly be?

  Alex ran past Damien and scaled the ladder. He pressed against the hatch but found no give. He pushed himself higher, pressing his shoulder against the ceiling, feeling the tiniest bit of movement on the hatch. Somewhere above, he was certain he heard voices. “Cody! Cody! It’s me. It’s Alex! Let me in. Please! Let me in!” Damien stood at the bottom of the ladder, eyes fixed on Alex as his frenzy grew.

  “Cody! If you can hear me, let me in! I’m here! It’s me!”

  Alex pounded his fist against the hatch, the sounds echoing around the tunnel. All of his focus set on breaking this goddamn door down and closing the distance between them.

  For the first time since Alex left his house that night, he allowed himself to hope.

  12

  Sophie Pearce

  It all happened at once. At the moment that Sophie closed the door to preserve what little heat remained in the shack, colossal thuds rang out in the room where Brandon sat.

  She froze, back to the door, wondering if Cody had heard. By the time she opened the door and called out to him, Cody was gone. Lost in the white. The wind stole her words and left her all alone. The rope uncoiling around her feet as her thoughts turned from Cody to Brandon.

  Oh God, she thought, remembering the way the unit had threatened to topple from the hatch before they had ignited the beasts. They’ve come back. There are more of them. They’re coming.

  She trailed her eyes up the stairs, sure that she had heard something from up there too, until another thud came from nearby. She ran towards the sound, skidding to a halt. Brandon sat against the wall, eyes closed. She couldn’t even see his breaths anymore. Both his hands were limp by his sides, his head resting on his chest, legs spread like a forgotten teddy bear. Another thud from the hatch beneath the unit and Sophie cried out in surprise.

  She reached into her pocket, momentarily forgetting that Travis had stolen her weapon in the tunnels. Her hammer had been used in his last stand and now she was defenceless. What was she to do? She glanced at the hatch, expecting to see slender black fingers poking through, the ghost of a bone mask watching through the tiny holes.

  “Cody! Cody! It’s me. It’s Alex! Let me in. Please! Let me in!”

  Sophie’s mouth fell open. It was a voice. A human voice. Someone finally come to their rescue.

  She broke out into a weary smile. Another few thuds against the hatch. Another surge of cries. “Cody! If you can hear me, let me in! I’m here! It’s me!”

  Cody. He said his name. Could it be…?

  “Hold on!” Sophie cried, pressing herself against the unit and shoving with all her might. The unit shuffled a few inches. The hatch thudded beneath her feet. The unit caught on a dip in the floor. The voice cried. Sophie shoved desperately, trying to undo what they had so recently done. She bent her knees, using her back, now. Her feet dug into the floor as the unit shifted with great effort.

  And then the hatch was clear. Sophie had just enough time to move herself clear when it burst open. A man’s face appeared from the darkness, a rash of stubble and scruffy dark hair. In his hand was a torch. The stink of charred meat and barbecue met her nostrils. He pushed free of the hole and stood in the room, looking wildly around. “Cody? Where’s Cody?”

  Sophie stood back, wary of the wild-eyed man and his gun. “Are you…”

  “Alex,” he stated. “Cody’s my nephew. Where is he?”

  Sophie broke into a run, launching at Alex and wrapping her arms around his waist. He was at least a foot taller than her and stunk of sweat and fire. She closed her eyes and buried her head in his stomach, tears spilling from her eyes as the relief overwhelmed her. A grown-up. A responsible adult. Someone who could finally help them out of this mess. She couldn’t believe it. Help had come.

  Alex eased Sophie back and crouched before her. He brushed a lock of hair f
rom her face. “Are you okay? Were you with him? Where’s Cody?” He looked past her, finding Brandon’s body slumped against the wall. “Oh, God. He’s not…”

  Sophie shook her head. “No. Cody is fine. He’s alive.”

  “Then where is he?” The man’s eyes took on a sense of urgency. “Please, just tell me where he is.”

  Sophie turned to the front door, just visible at the end of the room. The rope had reached its full stretch, the line taught and anchored beneath the crook of the door. “He went out to see what was nearby.” She looked up into Alex’s face. “I can get him. I can bring him back. Please, just fix our friend first.” She pointed to Brandon. Alex’s face hardened.

  “Deal. Just go get him, okay?”

  Sophie gave a resolute nod, then turned to the young boy climbing out of the tunnel. His face was dirty and there was blood on his hands and legs. Alex pointed at the door. “Long story. We’ll explain later. Go, get Cody.”

  As Alex busied himself with searching for what remained of Brandon’s pulse and examining his eyes, Sophie made her way to the door. The rope was tight. That was a good sign. It would either mean that Cody was at the end of the rope and searching their perimeter, or he was using the rope to find his way back.

  She opened the door, met by a blast of chill air that sucked the breath from her lungs. She stared into the white but could find no sign of Cody.

  Reaching for the rope, she tugged it back, hoping to encourage Cody toward her, or at least warn him that something was happening, and he needed to come back.

  However, when she tugged the line, all tension ceased. The rope went slack. As she retracted it, hand over hand, the rope wound in. By the time she found its end, her blood froze.

  The end of the rope was frayed. Cody was gone.

  Author Notes

  If you’ve reached the end of this episode, then I’m going to go ahead and assume that you had as much time reading this as I had writing it.

  This is my first experience really playing with the serialized format, and I’m loving it. Envisioning each episode like a mini TV show gives me a chance to experiment with where I put the beating heart of the story, where the ups and the downs go, and when to bring this episode to the end and lead into the next one.

  Life has changed a lot over the last decade, and serialization is king. I rarely watch a film anymore, much preferring to get lost in the lives of characters for longer than a simple hour and a half flick. Personal favorites of mine over the last few years have been Breaking Bad, Bad Omens, Preacher, West World and Game of Thrones (minus the final season, say what you want about it, I did not enjoy it).

  Serials really test the writer, forcing them to try and make characters that are engaging enough to keep people interested. The response so far on this series tells me that we’re doing well, here, and there is so much more to come. It’s all held in my personal brain box, and I’m going to explode if I don’t get this all written soon.

  A reader asked me the other day how tense this book is going to get. Karl is on the prowl, the Masked Ones are off doing their thing, and Cody is lost in the white. How much more tense can it get?

  Let me tell you what I told her: there are big things ahead. At the minute, we’re around 50% tension. The next couple of episodes are going to blow this baby wide open, and all you have to do is strap in, clutch the underside of your chair, and get prepared for the ride.

  Monsters are coming. Relationships are tested.

  All the while, I’m writing stories about winter, death, and wendigos from the comfort of a quaint city coffee shop. Can we say ‘juxtaposition,’ anyone?

  And, as always, if you want to get early chapters ahead of anyone else, then join me over at www.patreon.com/danielwillcocks where you’ll get every inch of this story as soon as it’s written (weeks ahead of public release). Episode 5 “Into the White” is currently being dropped in there as we speak, so if you can’t wait any longer for the release, dive on in.

  Daniel Willcocks

  August 25th 2020

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  About the Author

  Daniel Willcocks is an international bestselling author and podcaster of dark fiction. He is the CEO of Devil’s Rock Publishing, one fifth of digital story studio, Hawk & Cleaver, co-producer of iTunes-busting fiction podcast, 'The Other Stories,’ as well as the host of the 'Great Writers Share' podcast, and the ‘Next Level Authors’ podcast.

  Residing in the UK, Dan's work explores the catastrophic and the strange. His stories span the genres of horror, post-apocalyptic, and sci-fi, and his work has seen him collaborating with some of the biggest names in the independent publishing community.

  Find out more at www.danielwillcocks.com

  Devil’s Rock Publishing

  A new home for horror

  If you enjoyed this title, find more A-grade horror and dark fiction at

  www.devilsrockpublishing.com

  Other titles by Daniel Willcocks

  The Rot Series (with Luke Kondor)

  They Rot (Book 1)

  They Remain (Book 2)

  They Ruin (coming soon)

  Keep My Bones

  The Caitlin Chronicles (with Michael Anderle)

  (1) Dawn of Chaos

  (2) Into the Fire

  (3) Hunting the Broken

  (4) The City Revolts

  (5) Chasing the Cure

  Other Works

  Twisted: A Collection of Dark Tales

  Lazarus: Enter the Deadspace

  The Mark of the Damned

  Sins of Smoke

  Keep up-to-date at

  www.danielwillcocks.com