Dark Winter Series (Book 1): Dark Winter

by Fernfield, Rebecca

  Before Anna fell into an exhausted sleep, huddled in her duvet, Gregor noticed the shy smile she exchanged with Callum.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  The thermometer at the back door read minus fourteen and Callum shivered as he tightened the scarf around his neck, a find from the coat room Anna had given him. Whilst searching through the house for bedding, Anna had also found several warm jumpers, fleece jackets, and a variety of hats, gloves, and ski-jackets in the downstairs cloakroom along with a pair of men's walking boots. Gregor had tried the boots first but they were too small, as was the ski-jacket, but both fit Callum well, and he was more than thankful for both, realising just how ill-prepared he was for the sudden onset of what looked like it was going to be a harsh winter even without the loss of electricity.

  It was obvious that a family had lived here in the past and the numerous family photographs around the house proved it. Gregor insisted that the man in the photograph, his friend, Miles Barker, would be understanding if he found them squatting in his house. Callum wasn't convinced. No mention of a 'Miles Barker' had been made before, and Gregor was elusive when questioned about the man. Callum knew better than to push for answers though and was only thankful that in the winter's plummeting temperatures they had a warm roof over their heads. Comparing this house with 12 Lovett made his time on watch, in sub-zero temperatures, bearable. With no way of heating it, the old terraced house would be absolutely freezing. He pushed away the pang of guilt about leaving Shannon, Starlet, and Toadie behind and stared up at the crystal clear and freezing sky. Dusty particles of snow swirled around his feet as the wind blew, and he pulled the edges of his knitted hat down a little further so that they touched his upturned collar. He shivered and tramped around to the front of the house, stopping as he faced the gated driveway. Torchlight was being directed at the middle of the iron gates.

  Darting behind a large shrub beside the steps leading to the front door, he watched as a man pushed the gate open, grunting with effort as he forced it against layers of snow. Light skimmed the driveway, sweeping in a slow and wide arc from side to side then back to the middle where it seemed to hover over footprints that were now dents where the snow had covered them over the past days. The squeak of snow being compressed reached Callum as the man tramped down the driveway and towards the house. Without waiting for the man to approach, Callum withdrew, returned to the house, and woke Gregor with a poke to his shoulder.

  "Gregor, we've got company," he hissed. Light from the log burner cast a warm and orange glow across the sleeping faces of Anna and Jem. Jake, sat dozing with a duvet pulled tight around his body, opened an eye. Awake in an instant, Gregor rose without speaking and led Callum into the kitchen. The metallic clink of keys in the lock came as Callum said, "It must be the owner. I'll let him in."

  "No!" Gregor responded. "I will speak to him first. Stay here."

  In the next moment Gregor retrieved a knife from the holder beside the stove and disappeared into the freezing night. Ignoring Gregor's instructions, Callum followed at a short distance, watching as the man made his way from the back of the house to the side. The front door opened a fraction, stopped by the security chain and the heavy armchair Jake had pushed against it. Reaching the corner, Callum caught sight of Gregor. Hugging the shadows, he approached the man from the side, kitchen knife in hand.

  The man took a step back from the door as though to consider the house then began to make his way to the back. Light spilled from the living room as the curtains opened.

  "Hey!" the man shouted. "Hey! What are you doing in my house?"

  In the next moment Gregor stepped out of the shadows.

  "Who the hell are you?"

  "Come," Gregor said in placating tones. "Come this way and I will tell you."

  "What? What the hell are you talking about? What the hell are you doing in my house?"

  "I am Gregor, your friend. Remember?"

  "No, I bloody well don't."

  "Ah, so you are an intruder in my friend's house."

  "No! This is my house."

  "No, I don't think so."

  "What? Get out of my house, or I'll call the police."

  Gregor took a step closer, aware that Anna and Jem were now watching from inside. He made a show of pretended surrender, but to the man he said, "Make me."

  The man stared for a moment more and then made his mistake. He lunged at Gregor. The girl's screams could be heard from inside the house, but Gregor remained calm, playing the victim perfectly. It wasn't the first time Callum had witnessed this ambush. Staggering back under the onslaught, Gregor allowed the man to land a punch on his jaw and then another in his belly. Although they hit home, they were of little impact as Gregor made swift moves to avoid the greatest thrust of the man's punches. He staggered back far enough to be out of sight of the girls then turned on the man.

  The next minutes were a brutal display of Gregor's rage. Taken by surprise, the man was dragged to the side of the house and then thrown to the floor where Gregor straddled him, dropping his weight onto the man's belly. Arms pinned beneath Gregor's legs he had no way of defending himself but bucked as punches began to flow. After the fifth punch, Gregor withdrew the knife he had slipped into his pocket and with an upward thrust forced the blade beneath the man's ribcage and into his heart. After several, intense moments, the man lay still, his heart punctured. Disturbed by Gregor's vicious rage and the coldness with which he had stabbed the man and fatally damaged his heart, Callum took quiet steps back before coming to a stop beside Jake. Gregor straddled the dead man, a pool of blood blooming into the snow as a dark flower. White breath billowed as he panted.

  "Who was it?" Jake asked.

  "Intruder. He was trying to break in.”

  Anna appeared at the back door.

  "Go back inside, Anna.”

  “Who was it?”

  "Inside, girls,” Gregor commanded. “This is not for you to see."

  Mesmerised, Anna continued to stare at Gregor straddled over the body.

  "Who was he?" she asked, repeating Jake's question.

  "Intruder, Anna. Come to steal our food. Come to take nice house from us."

  "Is he dead?"

  "He is no longer a threat to us. Now, go inside. Is cold out here and Jemima should not see this." Standing tall, he said, "Jake, take the girls back inside. Callum, help me to move this man."

  With the girls safely inside the house and the back door firmly closed, Gregor cleansed the knife in the snow, and they carried the man across the lawn.

  “We take him to shed.”

  The man groaned.

  “Shit!”

  Callum’s grip loosened and the man dropped to the snow.

  "Idiot!" Gregor seethed.

  "He's alive!" Callum said in horror.

  With cold savagery, Gregor dropped the man to the ground, took the knife from his pocket, and stabbed him twice more in the heart. "No, he is not," Gregor replied then commanded Callum to take hold of the legs and carry the body into the garden.

  "Ground is too hard for digging. We keep him in shed then bury him when weather is better."

  Callum grimaced, the thought of leaving the man’s body in the shed for what could be weeks, or even months, if the weather predictions were correct, creeped him out.

  "Is too cold for him to rot."

  "Ugh!"

  "What's wrong, Frostie? You wimp?"

  "No! 'Course not. It's just ... him lying here, dead, whilst we're up at the house ..."

  "Is nothing. We bury him soon. Or we put him in ditch."

  "I think a ditch. Somewhere away from the house."

  Gregor grunted his agreement. "Away from the house is better, but tomorrow. Now we put him in shed."

  "Sure."

  Minutes later, Gregor discovered that the shed was locked with an impressively large padlock. "We lay him here," he decided. "Cover him in snow."

  "Who was he, Gregor?" Callum asked as they placed handfuls of snow over his bod
y to obscure it from view.

  "He was intruder."

  "But I thought he was your friend, the guy who owned this place?"

  Gregor locked eyes with Callum, the steely gaze obvious even in the moonlight, and said, "Is war, Frostie. In war, only the strong survive. Now, we finish covering this body and go inside."

  Although Callum had recognised the face of the murdered man as the one in the photographs in the house, Gregor had made it clear that he would give no other answer than that the man was an intruder, and Callum knew better than to ask again.

  "And Frostie," Gregor said as they made their way back across the snow-covered lawn, "you do not tell anything to Anna or Jemima. Man was intruder. If you say anything other than this truth, I kill you too."

  As the vile words dripped from Gregor's mouth, Callum knew he said them with absolute sincerity.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Morning followed night and the next day brought more snow. Jem insisted on building snowmen in the garden and Anna finally relented after finding fresh clothes upstairs. One of the bedrooms was fitted out for a teenage girl and they found jeans, underwear, t-shirts, and warm jumpers for Jem. She complained about wearing someone else’s underwear and picked a pair of knickers from the drawer with the tip of her fingers and a grimace. Anna laughed, told her not to be silly, and threw a selection of clothes on the bed. A pang of guilt that they were rifling through someone else’s belongings was fleeting; Jem needed clean clothes, and the shit had hit the fan as Callum had so crudely put their current situation, and that justified the ‘theft’. Anyway, it was obvious that the family were rich enough to replace whatever she and Jem took.

  In another bedroom, there were a few items of women’s clothing, but an abundance of men’s jeans, t-shirts, shoes, and jumpers. Gregor, Jake, and Callum had already been through the men’s clothing, but she managed to find two pairs of women’s jeans that were a little large, some long-sleeved tops, and a man’s jumper that hung on her but added instant heat. She kept a scarf found in the downstairs cloakroom permanently around her neck, but her greatest find was a stash of clean underwear.

  “Anna!” Jem called from the en-suite bathroom in the girl’s room. “There’s toothpaste and a packet of toothbrushes in here.”

  Anna pulled on the oversized sweater, grabbed several pairs of socks from the open underwear drawer and joined Jem, taking a toothbrush from the packet, and liberally spreading it with toothpaste. The relief to be able to clean her mouth was immediate. Unwashed since leaving their bedsit, she had become self-conscious. Water trickled from the tap, and she began to clean her teeth. Catching sight of herself in the mirror she was shocked at the unkempt and battered girl that stared back. Fine wisps of straggling hair escaped from a hurriedly tied ponytail and her skin was blotched with bruising. A wide graze sat on her cheek below a still swollen and now blackening eye. Embarrassment crept over her; this was what Callum saw? A faint blush began to rise beside the bruises.

  Downstairs the men were talking, their conversation becoming animated, their voices louder. She closed the bedroom door as Jem checked through a variety of unsuitable outfits from the older teenager’s wardrobe, making shivering noises as she removed her own clothes and chose something to wear.

  “Make sure it’s warm,” Anna reminded Jem as she closed the bathroom door. She filled the sink with cold water and proceeded to cleanse her body, thankful to be able to wash away the grime and sweat of the last few days. Freshened up, and now wearing clean clothes, her thoughts turned to the group of men and her plans to take Jem to France. Light through the privacy-patterned window was bright and crisp, reflected from the snow outside. It was deep now and growing deeper with every minute that passed. With the electricity still out, perhaps even a blackout across the entire country, it would be foolish to leave. Here they had food and water. It was warm and, apart from Gregor’s occasional outbursts at Jake and Gregor, it seemed safe. Of course, there was the dead man on the lawn, but Gregor had explained that it was self-defence and she had witnessed the attack herself before the men had disappeared around the corner. He was doing what he promised, protecting her and Jem. Realising that leaving was impossible, and pushing the warning from the policewoman to the back of her mind, she collected the scavenged underwear, jeans, and tops, and placed them all on the bed, found a rucksack for herself and Jem, and packed them ready for their onward journey when the snow melted.

  Downstairs the raised voices had become angry shouts. Gregor’s, as usual, was the loudest.

  “What do you think?” Jem stood with hand on hip, twirled with a flourish, then held a pose. Anna laughed, enjoying Jem’s silliness; it was a relief to see her smile and be so relaxed. She wore a pair of jeans with embroidered flowers along the thigh, and a bright pink jumper knitted from fluffy and sparkly wool. Pink seemed to shimmer as a halo around her body as light caught in the flecks of metallic fibre.

  “You look like a neon sheep!” Anna laughed.

  An equally pink and fluffy cushion caught her shoulder as Jem threw it across the room. Both girls laughed as Anna batted it away. “It looks great, honestly. And I’ll definitely be able to see you in the dark.”

  “Well, at least it’s not a man’s jumper. And I wouldn’t be seen dead in those old woman jeans,” Jem threw back with a taunting smile then turned to the dressing table and reached for a hairbrush.

  “Cheek!” Anna picked up the pink cushion and lobbed it back. It caught the back of Jem’s head.

  “Want me to help?” Anna offered.

  The next minutes were spent brushing through Jem’s thick hair and then fixing her own until at last both sported tidy ponytails. Jem chose a bright pink and fluffy scrunchie to compliment her jumper, whilst Anna settled on plain black bands to hold her hair in place. Cleansed and with fresh clothes they returned to the living room where Anna began to tidy the bedding. Having it spread around the living room was beginning to annoy her and if they were stuck here for the next few days, she wanted it tidy. As she picked up a sleeping bag to fold it, an inner door slammed. Jake disappeared outside. Callum remained in the kitchen before walking through to the living room. One side of his face burned red and a trickle of blood seeped from his nose. He avoided eye contact. She busied herself with tidying the beds.

  As she struggled with a mattress, Callum asked, “Want some help?”

  “Please.”

  Together they stacked the mattresses beneath a window and topped them with the bedding. She sighed with relief scanning the empty space in front of the fire then said, “What happened?”

  “Nothing.”

  “Did he hit you?”

  “Nah?”

  “What? So you walked into a door?”

  “Something like that.”

  “I heard you talking from upstairs. He sounded angry.”

  “Yeah, well he gets like that,” Callum muttered.

  “Then why do you stay with him?”

  He stared at her then, suppressing emotion and, in a voice not much above a whisper said, “You want to go to France, right?” She nodded. “Then you should go.”

  “But we can’t. It’s snowing outside.”

  “Sure, yeah, but when it stops snowing, you should leave. Gregor ...” His voice trailed off. She waited for him to continue, but he remained tight lipped.

  “He seems okay, most of the time. At least we’ve got food and water. And Gregor ... well, he kind of saved us, and Jem-”

  "It's what he does—makes you like him."

  "But he seems so genuine, like he wants to help. Jem sees him like ... well, I think she sees him as-"

  "A favourite uncle?"

  "Yes! That's it, although I'd thought she saw him a bit like a dad. Our dad left us when she was six. He doesn't bother to see us anymore.” Both were quiet for a moment, then Anna asked, “Why do you stay? Don’t you have parents or family?”

  Callum shrugged. "Social Services took me away from them when I was four."

  Taken ab
ack by the admission, Anna said, “I’m sorry! I can't imagine how I'd feel if they took me away from my mum."

  He shrugged again. "They were both drug addicts."

  "I'm sorry ..."

  "No need to be sorry. It's not your fault. Sounds like you had a raw deal too."

  "I guess, but my mum was great. Always put me and Jem first."

  "I'm sorry she died then."

  "Yeah, me too."

  "Listen. Gregor ... he's got his good points, but ... you should get away before it's too late."

  "Too late?"

  "Yeah, usually he'd have you and Jem drugged up by now and working as runners or ... hired out."

  "Hired out?"

  Callum paused. "Yeah, you know ... for sex."

  "Jesus! She was right."

  "Who was right?"

  Anna sucked in her breath, realising her mistake. "No one."

  "The only reason he can't do that right now is because of this blackout."

  "So why is he being so nice?"

  "It's what he does to keep people on his side until he's ready to pull them in and suck them down." A note of bitterness tinged Callum's words.

  "Is that what happened to you?"

  "Well, I'm here, so I guess so, but I don't touch the drugs."

  "The women?"

  "That's a new side-line."

  "But you do what he asks?"

  "Yeah, I do what he asks. It’s starting to make me sick to my guts though."