Anything to somehow get closer to finding Cody.
A hand on the door. It twisted. A crack opened. Inside was darkness. The cold, steel barrel of a shotgun emerged. Alex heard commotion behind him. He waved a hand to calm the kids, but he couldn’t check that they were there still. Not without turning away from the barrel of the gun.
A guttural sound emitted as an eye appeared in the slit between the doors. Something that sounded oddly like a sob. Alex raised a hand in the air. “Please. I mean you no harm. I’m just looking for somewhere to warm up. I’ve got others with me. Children. We just need somewhere to rest from…”
From what? Try explaining it all to this nobody on the outskirts of town who appears to be entirely unaffected by this situation. Did they even have a clue what was going on?
There came whispers through the door, hurried exclamations, and Alex thought he spied a shaking hand. A young, male voice snapped. The metal latch on the door clanged. The door caught on a second latch as someone struggled to open it. The second latch came free.
Alex’s face fell. What remained of the colour in his cheeks drained. It couldn’t be. It wasn’t possible. Forget the young kid with the furrowed brow aiming a rifle at his face, the woman behind had to be a ghost. It just couldn’t be…
Tears flooded down Tori’s cheeks. Her cheeks were gaunt, her lip bruised, her hair an untidy mess. She looked as if she was going to pass out, and as Alex stepped towards her, her body slumped. Alex batted the boy’s gun away and wrapped his arms around her, despite the lad’s terrified shouts. Her weight fell into his arms and he fell with her, landing in a lump on the floor as her body racked with sobs and he closed his eyes to breathe her in.
The boy stood over them, grabbing at Alex’s shoulder, trying to tear him away. Tori shouted something incoherent that he accepted as “Leave me alone.” Tori’s skin was soft, her face inches from his. She grabbed his cheeks in her hands and drew him closely, their lips touching. She kissed him, and he kissed back. It was desperate, feral, manic, and it was all that he could do not to cry, too. Her tongue explored his mouth, her sour breath not enough of a deterrent to stop what was taking place. The boy gave up, taking his position by the door and staring outside. He shouted something, but Alex wasn’t paying attention, all that mattered was Tori and her lips.
When they finally came up for air, they stared a while into each other’s eyes. Tori’s tears slowed, and the ghost of a smile traced her lips. She ran her fingers through Alex’s hair. He removed his gloves and stroked her cheek.
“Hey,” he said.
Tori chuckled. “Hi.”
Alex was the first to stand. He offered his hands to Tori and helped her to her feet. She stayed a moment in his arms, before Alex turned back to the front door where the young lad watched them with a raised eyebrow. “Are you done?”
Tori laughed. Sawed her hand across her nose. “Yes.”
Alex broke free from Tori and approached the door. The kid tensed up.
“Don’t worry,” Alex said. “I’m not going to hurt you. I’ve left some luggage in the cold.”
“Luggage?” the boy said.
Alex opened the door and stared into the white. His smile faded as he hunted in the snow for his flock. A bolt of panic flooded through him— they were nowhere to be seen.
Slight movement drew his attention to something on the edges of his vision. He waved a hand, then cupped them and hollered. A moment later, Sophie emerged from the white with the others at her side. Damien and Alice broke free and ran ahead. Sophie was slower, more cautious. Her arms wrapped around her waist and she gritted herself against the chill wind as she drew closer to the house.
The door closed off the storm. For a long moment they stood shivering in the entryway, snow melting and dripping to the floor. Damien and Alice looked from the boy to Tori, then at each other. Sophie hung her head and stared at the floor.
“I suppose we should do introductions,” Tori said, breaking the silence at last.
The boy glared at Tori.
Alex chuckled, though there was little humour in it. The sight of the children, thawing out from the storm, bags beneath their eyes, and the sight of Tori’s bruises and cuts quickly brought the haunting reality back to him.
Tori introduced the boy as Oscar, her nephew. Alex introduce the children, taking note of how Tori’s eyes widened a touch at the mention of how Sophie had been with Cody until recently. She escorted them further into the house and helped them out of their jackets. They took a seat beside the fire and coddled hot drinks in their hands as they allowed themselves the luxury of heat for the first time that night. The flames flickered and made the shadows dance, and the sweet smell of tea and cocoa filled the room.
Tori and Alex sat beside each other on the couch. Oscar stroked the barrel of his rifle, occasionally throwing a glance to the back window. Alex couldn’t see anything out there since, at Tori’s instruction, Oscar had hurried to close the curtains before they all settled down. Oscar’s face curdled, growing darker with each passing second.
“How did you escape?” Alex asked at last, the coffee so hot that it numbed his tongue. “The last I saw, you were…”
Tori nodded, neither of them needing to say what had happened in the church. Damien looked as if he was about to say something, then decided not to. Alex was thankful for that.
“Naomi found me,” she said softly, the shadows making her face wobble, a heady warmth making Alex’s eyelids heavy. “They were about to take me. I don’t know how much longer I could have stayed there before it was over. Karl… He loomed over me, every part of what made him human was gone and…” She hedged her words, not wanting to alarm the children any more than they were. “Naomi rescued me. She took out two of them, I think. It’s all a blur. Before I knew it, she was dragging me away, back here.”
“Where is here?” Sophie asked, for the first time making her voice heard.
Alice rolled her eyes. “In this house, silly.”
“The edge of the forest,” Tori said. “Just outside is the border of the Drumtrie. This is her house.”
“And mine,” Oscar said briskly.
“And yours.”
Oscar gave Tori an urgent look. She lowered her eyes, the grooves growing deep in her forehead.
“What is it?” Alex asked.
Tori took a couple of deep breaths, but it was Oscar who finally replied. “Mum’s out there. In the woods. She’s gone by herself.” He aimed his words at Tori. “We should be out there. Getting her. Bringing her back. Those…Those things…”
“What things?” Damien asked. “That man? Is he there?”
Tori looked at him quizzically, then shook her head as she realised to whom he was referring. “No. Not him.”
“Then, what?” Sophie asked, rising from her seat and heading to the curtains.
Tori jumped from her seat, making a path to get in front of Sophie. Oscar rose from the edge of the armchair and stepped in her way. “No. They need to see this.”
“The children,” Tori complained. “They can’t. They’re only children.”
Alex stood. “What the hell is going on out…”
Sophie tore back the curtains, flooding the room in the eery white glow of the snow. Alice shuffled closer to Damien, taking a stand behind him. Sophie stared aghast at the outside world. Oscar returned to his seat, a grim satisfaction on his face.
Alex moved slowly to the window, the room cast in silence. There was something out there. A few somethings. And with each step closer to the window they grew clearer.
A stretch of snow paved the way towards ancient pines, towering taller than the house and losing their tops in the snow and clouds. In front of them, creating a barrier between the house and the forest were a dozen or so frozen wendigos, motionless and brooding. Their dark shapes reminded him of scarecrows, their stick-thin limbs a mockery of anything that could have once called itself human. Their arms were longer than they should have been, and their feet were los
t in the powder. Strange-looking genitals hung like dehydrated fruit between their legs, and beyond them…
Beyond them the woods were dark.
“Shit…” Alex breathed.
“Bad word,” Damien said softly.
Alice whimpered and scrunched her face into the folds of Damien’s top.
“Mum’s out there,” Oscar announced to the room, eyes brimming with tears, though he was doing everything to hold them back. “They have her. Those things… they’re guarding the forest, and we need to get past.”
Alex looked at Tori. “When did this happen?”
“Not long before you arrived. We were gearing up, getting ourselves ready to take them on when you arrived and…” She took a few hitching breaths. “I guess that seeing you all arrive through that door was a welcome distraction, but she’s been in there for some time, by herself and, Oscar’s right, we need to get her.” She shook her head. “How the hell are we going to chase them with all these kids, Alex? We can’t risk their lives, too. We’ve already lost so much tonight.”
“Don’t talk as though we’re not here,” Sophie snapped, brow hanging low over her eyes. Her voice was emotionless, flat and dry. “We’ve been through shit, too—”
“Naughty,” Damien whispered.
“—and it’s not over. Whatever you choose to do, I’m going with you. I’ve had enough of these shits taking what doesn’t belong to them. Tearing through this town and taking…” Her lip trembled and her words failed. She composed herself, straightening her back as she wiped a tear with the back of her hand. “Cody deserves to be avenged. The storm and those things took him, the same way they did Amy, Brandon, and Kyle. There’s no way I’m not seeing this through to the end.”
Alex looked from Sophie to Damien and Alice. “Well, someone needs to stay here with the kids. If we’re going in there, they need to be guarded. They can’t be left by themselves. Not tonight. Not until this is done.”
“We can’t take them with us,” Tori replied, casting an apologetic eye to the pair. “It’s too dangerous. They wouldn’t last five minutes if the wendigo came at us. They have to stay here. Someone has to stay here with them. It’s the only way to keep them safe.”
“Who’s to say this place is safe?” Sophie asked. “Why are you so sure that they won’t attack us here?”
Alex raised his eyebrows and turned to Tori for an answer.
Tori waved a hand. “We don’t have time for this. What we need to do is to decide who’s staying and who’s going.”
Before anyone could reply, a resounding crash erupted as something crashed against the front door. Wood splintered from the hinges and a blast of chilly air invaded the room. All heads turned. Oscar raised his father’s rifle, poised and ready for the shot.
He was too slow. The figure stepped over the threshold and aimed a pistol dead ahead. The report echoed around the house. Damien and Alice screamed as they threw themselves to the ground. Tori bellowed, diving behind the protective belly of the sofa. Sophie threw herself against the wall, shrinking against the wooden boards as though they might swallow her whole and hide her from harm.
Alex grunted. The bullet ripped through him. Blood erupted from the wound and fountained into the air as he crashed onto the rug. His head hit the floor with a dull thud, eyes rolling back into his head. Tori’s screams filled the air as another two shots were fired.
The third came from Oscar’s rifle.
There were no more shots after that.
4
Kyle Samson
The house looked inviting. The house looked warm.
Flickering light showed the tell-tale signs of the fire inside. Fire… Something that Kyle’s withering body yearned for. There was a fire in his family home, a stone chimney with a metallic grate to protect the dog from the floating embers when the fire raged and breathed its warmth into the house. His dog—a working husky that he called Dog, even after his mother and father had actually named him Klovski—would often fall asleep in front of that fire, and Kyle would watch from the sofa, waiting for the day that a stray ember, as minuscule and powerful as a nymph or dark fairy, would float above the grate and find its way into the dog’s fur. He loved Dog, but he was also fascinated by all the things he shouldn’t be fascinated by. Fire, blood, death… They were all things on his lifelong to-see list, and perhaps if his visions came through, he would see all three ticked off at once.
In his mind’s eye, the dark fur of Dog would catch alight around his rump. The tail would be the first to ignite, the embers multiplying rapidly as the dog’s eyes widened and he gave a panicked bark. Kyle would watch him, unsympathetic to his pleas, as Dog sprinted around the room. Nothing else would catch fire in these visions, only the dog, and the dog would suffer. Not because he wanted the dog to suffer, but because there was no other way to know what would happen than to witness it first-hand, was there. Would the flesh melt and the blood scrape along the behind him as the dog dragged its ass on the floor in a furious attempt to extinguish its flame? Would the creature simply turn to a sack of dripping blood, the fire eventually doused by the viscous fluid? Would the fire boil the blood and cause it to evaporate? Or would it all turn into a dry, powdery residue as the dog dragged its broken body along the wood and juddered into its final resting place?
Death would soon follow, of that he knew for certain. Nothing could survive the cold clutches of death in the end. Nothing could survive that amount of duress, taken by the single cruellest element to exist on this planet.
But it wasn’t the cruellest, was it? Tonight had shown him that. Tonight, the world had unleashed the demons from their underworld cages and thrown them at Denridge. Hurled the snow and the ice and the winds at Kyle and his posse, and from their wombs came the monsters. While Cody and Sophie and Brandon ran ahead and left Amy to die, Kyle sneaked around in the darkness, forced to survive on his own. Travis, his best friend in the world, lay dead in a tunnel, devoured by bloodthirsty creatures of ice, and Kyle was alone. There they were, all of them, cosied up in a nice warm house, surrounded by fire, probably hugging and laughing and singing Koom-by-fucking-yah, and Kyle was alone again, left outside in the snow with nothing but a pistol for company.
His blue lips peeled back into a painful snarl. The skin cracked and bled.
Kyle’s father had taken him hunting on several occasions in his life. Together they had stalked the water’s edge, laying low and hunting for seal and polar bear. Kyle was familiar with the electric thrill of a gun firing from the simple pull of the trigger, the kickback shaking bones and rattling marrow. The smell of gunpowder and iron as the dying creature bled its contents onto the ice.
Dog barking unhappily by their side.
On those trips, it could have been so easy to aim the gun a few inches to his left. Fire again. Take out the dog. His father wouldn’t have forgiven him, but what did that matter? Would serve daddy right for the belt beatings and the name calling and the staying out late drinking and coming back in the early hours of the morning to screaming matches with mum and stinking of another lady’s perfume, wouldn’t it?
Kyle saw them in the white, visions of his parents, the pair of them screaming until their voices were hoarse. His mother slapping his father, his father punching his mother. Dog yapping around their feet. His father taking a boot to Dog’s head. Dog didn’t last the night after that. Mum said she forgave his father eventually, but her eyes told the opposite. Eyes can’t lie like mouths can.
Kyle wasn’t even aware that he was crying until the tears froze and pained his cheeks. He turned over the gun in his hand, then looked back at the house, wanting it all to be over. The barrel pressed to his temple. He applied pressure. The chamber left a dent in his skin. His finger tensed. He growled, cried, sobbed, the wind stole it all.
To his side, his mother and father were making up, arms wrapped around each other as daddy undressed her and pressed her to an invisible wall. The sounds of their lovemaking would follow the fight. The sound of
her tears would follow his snores. The cycle would continue indefinitely, that was the way of the world.
Or had been, at least.
Kyle ripped the pistol away from his head as a shadow moved through the window of the house. He thought of Travis, nothing more than meat and bones. He thought of Cody, of the humiliation Kyle had felt at his defeat on the court. He thought of Sophie defending Amy, turning his own girlfriend against him. He thought of the girl, the tiny bitch who had sucker punched him in the dark, and how she was in there with them now, warm, cosy, loved. He thought of how unjust the world was, how all he wanted was to be understood, to have a friend who cared, to not be laughed at, not be humiliated by his father at home, to see the other side of the darkness and experience a world different to this one.
He was walking before he knew he was. He lumbered towards the house, the sound of their voices reaching his ear and sending pangs of jealousy through his body. What could he do now? He could hardly go in there and join the throng. Gather in with the merry band of adventurers and blend seamlessly into their narrative. No, Kyle would go out with a bang. Get his vengeance on the world and leave a mark that would be remembered.
“We don’t have time for this. What we need to do is to decide who’s staying and who’s going,” a voice said. Female.
Great, they were already breaking up the pack. He had to act, and soon.
He shot at the lock without a thought. In his head, the perfect movie line begged to be hollered, ‘Oh, I think you’ll all be staying,’ but nothing came out. His eyes fixed on the boy’s rifle, pointing directly at him. He panicked, blood turning colder than he thought possible as he aimed at the largest object in the room, the man who, in that moment, reminded him strangely of Cody. He fired. The bullet ripped through the room. The man went down.
When Winter Comes | Book 6 | Winter Comes Page 2
