Winter's Fury - Volume Two of The Saga of the Twelves

by Richard M. Heredia

  He stood up and vaulted over the side of the cart and onto the ground. He realized her expression had not changed, and said in a hurry, “It’s ok, her name is Kodiak. She was once a pet of my best friend. Her being here, in this place, has changed her a-whole-god-damned-lot as you can see.

  “This place,” he waved his hand in the air above his head, “has a way of altering even the most innocuous of things into…" He grinned. "Well, into something as grandiose as Kodiak.” He smiled broad at the bear-dog.

  Kodiak wagged her head from side to side like a tolerant mother watching over her offspring. An expression much like she would employ if they'd been scampering about, making complete fools of themselves.

  “She’s friendly, right?” asked the tiny teen.

  There was so much hope in her tone it made Andrew chuckle at first. An instant later, he felt like an idiot. Yet, when he chanced a chagrinned glance in her direction the look on her face had not changed. She had been oblivious of his reaction.

  “Yeah, she’s friendly,” he retorted, meek, and then perked up, changing the subject. “You need help out of that thing?”

  That seemed to shatter the girl’s apprehension. “Yeah, would you mind…?”

  “Not at all,” Andrew asserted as he offered the girl his hands and she leaned forward. He held her under her arms and lifted her from the cart as she bent her legs to clear its’ metal edge. As if she were as brittle as an egg, he put her on the ground. “There you go,” he added, and then looked over at Anthony. “Hey, dude, are we gonna leave these things out here or do you want us to drag them in?”

  Anthony glanced over at Kodiak as if he was not quite sure of the answer.

  “My daughter and I will haul them in a bit later. Do not worry yourself over them. You just get that poor girl into the marketplace and out of this cold,” remarked Kodiak, her tone pointed.

  Andrew nodded and motioned for the girl to follow him into the building.

  She did so without hesitation.

  Andrew stepped beneath the motion sensor of the doors, but they stayed closed. He turned to smile at the girl. “No electricity,” he said with a chuckle. Then he leaned against the door and pushed his way in, pulling a small flashlight from his back pocket and turning it on. He held the door open for her. She stepped through the portal and into the store, then he followed.

  “So, uh, what’s your name? I haven’t had the time to ask yet.” He ran a hand through his hair as if on edge.

  She walked deeper into the building, right up to the middle of the Customer Service counter. There were a few display cases packed with various holiday gadgets and decorations about. She reached out and picked up a stuffed Santa doll from the foremost display, shaking her head. It was plain to see, she was sad.

  The silence grew and Andrew was uncertain if she had heard him or not, and was about to comment.

  She replied, “My name is Marianna White Horse.” She continued to look at the comical doll with its bright red coat and overstuffed belly, turning it over in her grip.

  “Oh,” was all Andrew said at first a little caught off guard by the uniqueness of her last name. “You don’t hear that kind of name around here too much,” he said. He knew it had sounded lame, repeating what he had thought seconds before. Of a sudden, he was feeling quite unimaginative.

  She chuckled and put down the doll. “Yeah, I’ve been getting that a lot lately.” She turned to face him. “My family and I just moved here from Holbrook, Arizona about two months ago. You know, right before school started.”

  “Wow, I never heard of that city before,” commented Andrew, scratching his head in thought.

  “Most people haven’t. It’s more like a small town out in the middle of nowhere and not a city at all,” she explained. She placed her weight on one foot, brushing her long, straight hair from her face.

  “Where is it exactly?”

  “Well, it’s off Interstate 40 in northern Arizona about half way between Flagstaff and the New Mexico state border,” she detailed.

  Andrew still had no clue of the location the town, figuring it was in the middle of some desert on the far side of Timbuktu. But northern Arizona wasn’t a desert, right?

  She was watching him as she answered his question, a smile spreading across her face. “You still have no idea where it is at, huh?”

  Andrew chuckled. “Naw, girl, I couldn’t tell you even with GPS.”

  “I thought so.” Her laugh was quiet.

  “Well, it’s all good. It is a pleasure to meet you, Marianna,” he said extending his hand toward the girl.

  She took it as they completed their introductions.

  Andrew’s eyebrows rose when he looked at how small her hand was within his own. She’s so tiny, he thought.

  “So, now what?” she asked, looking around in the darkened store. She hooked her thumbs in the front pockets of her jeans – jeans that were still wet from her time lying in the snow.

  “I think we should take Kodiak’s advice and get you some warmer clothes, and then something hot to drink. What do you think?” he offered, flashing his flashlight about so they could see.

  “Ah, ok, I guess that sounds good,” she mumbled rubbing her hands over the damp denim on her thighs. She brought up her head and peered back at him. “So, um, how many more… um, animals do you guys have like Kodiak helping you? I mean I heard her mention her daughter and I saw the tall rabbit-looking one, so I am guessing there are more, right?” she inquired.

  Andrew walked toward the woman’s department, which just happened to be on that floor. It was immediately after the customer service counter to their left. He looked over his shoulder at Marianna. “You’re pretty smart and you’re right too. There are three others beside Kodiak and her daughter Kenai, but they don’t look like them at all.”

  “Oh.”

  “Yeah.” He continued, “One looks somewhere between a giant house cat and a lion. His name is, Garfield, and kinda only takes orders from Anthony. He doesn’t listen to anyone else, except maybe Kodiak. The one you saw that looks like a man and a rabbit all mixed up, he is Mr. Patas. Don’t ask me why, he just is – I didn’t name him either, so don’t blame me,” he said it out of the corner of his mouth.

  She smiled, her eyes twinkling.

  “The last one is a combination of a pug-faced dog and a man. He is sort of partial to Elena, Anthony’s sister. She calls him Mugzy. Of those three, Mugzy is the easiest to talk too. Though he’s sort of formal, he is kind and patient. He doesn’t seem to want to judge those around him too much. I guess he’s kinda formally, laid-back, if there is such a thing. The others are a little standoff-ish in their own way. Kodiak tries to be like a mother, if you haven’t already guessed.”

  Marianna nodded at that as they made their way through the racks of clothing, looking for something to change into.

  “Kenai is a little like her, but not as bossy.” He laughed at that, still talking, “You’ll figure it out, no problem. Heck, I’ve only been with them for like four days and I pretty much got them pegged, you know. So don’t get all shook up when you see them, ok? They all can speak and they know English, so you can talk to them without any problems. You can ask them questions or whatever. They are like our guardians, so there’s no need to be afraid of them, even though they can sometimes look real scary and shit.”

  “Okay… Andrew, sounds simple enough,” she concluded.

  Andrew’s flashlight illuminated a series racks and shelves. There were t-shirts, sweaters, pants, jeans and jackets abound. There were even a few more holding large overcoats of varying sizes and styles.

  “Ah, here we go. Help yourself!” presented Andrew, jutting his arms out to either side of himself. He turned halfway in both directions as if he owned the whole store.

  Marianna began to peruse through the various garments, looking for something she liked. She checked the labels, with the help of Andrew’s flashlight, for a size that might come close to fitting her tiny frame.

&
nbsp; “By the way, you can call me, Drew. Everyone else does,” he said trying to keep the conversation going. Then he saw Anthony, Sophie, Kodiak and Mr. Patas walk pass. They were some distance away though, in the main aisle of the store - making for the escalator. It was obvious they were heading for the camping equipment, which was on the upper floor. The teenagers flashed their flashlights in their direction.

  Andrew raised his hand in greeting. “We’re just getting Marianna some things to wear! We’ll be up with you guys in a second!” he called.

  “No problem, bro, take your time,” replied Anthony, matching the volume of Andrew’s voice. “It looks like we’re going to have a lot of it.”

  Andrew frowned. “A lot of what?”

  “Time, dude. There’s a freaking blizzard raging outside. It looks like we might be here for a while,” elucidated Anthony.

  “Are you kidding me?”

  “I wish I was, man. I wish I was. I’m pretty sure we'll be trapped in here for a while, socked in by the weather.” He did not sound all that happy about it.

  Andrew understood, because it would mean even more days of inactivity and boredom. It was a whole lack of progress on their part, while Fenris and his cronies gained in power and in strength. Even with the Melded World continuing to shape itself at will, he knew that dog-faced asshole wouldn't stop.

  “Oh well, right?” said Anthony, filling the silence. “We’re just gonna find something to eat and go from there. Join us when she’s all set, ok?” informed his friend. He turned away, continuing with the others toward the escalators in the middle of the store.

  “Yeah, sure thing,” he called back, then made his way closer to the tiny teen girl. “Did you hear that, Marianna? Thank god, we found you when we did! You woulda been a frozen burrito out there by now,” he joked, making the girl laugh.

  “Call me, Anna, Drew,” she said. She stopped what she was about to say after, pulling a dark brown, three-quarter length sweater from one of the racks. It was the type that covers the hips, is tight-fitting and stylish. It would keep her warm at the same time. And… it looked like it might fit her. “What do you think?”

  “I like it. Try it on…Anna,” responded Andrew with a glint in his eye.

  She pulled the sopping sweater she had been wearing over her head.

  Andrew’s eyes bulged at the sight of her bra showing through the damp shirt she wore underneath. On a dime, he half-turned from her. “You should find another shirt first, you know, before you put that on. Just a thought,” he mentioned, trying to keep his voice neutral, casual. He waved the back of his hand in the general direction of her torso.

  “What?” she asked, looking down to where he had gestured. His attempt at nonchalance got her attention. Then she saw herself. She surprised him by chortling with resignation and not exclaiming in outraged humiliation. “Wow, I hadn’t intended on giving you a show this early in the day,” she said. Her tone was light. She pulled the t-shirt away from her body, making the clinging cotton dislodge from that of her bra. At once, the cloth turned opaque and not see-through as it had been when Andrew noticed.

  She walked to another fixture and chose a plain, tan colored, spaghetti-strapped tank, tailored to fit the curves of a female. She ducked behind it, out of Andrew’s view.

  “You won’t look will you?” she asked.

  Andrew was going to answer in the negative when he noted an inkling of play in her voice. What the heck, he thought. I hadn’t looked the first time. Why would she think I would look now? His mind was still a jumble when she shed her old, and quite smelly shirt, for the other before he could recover from her remark. By the time, he looked back in her direction she had already come forth, having put on the long sweater as fast as she could.

  To his delight, not only did it fit, it looked nice on her.

  “I guess, I got lucky,” she added, modeling it for Andrew.

  He watched, rapt.

  “It was the only extra small in the entire inventory.”

  “I guess you did,” Andrew agreed, but let his next comment die on his lips as he continued to drink in the sight of her.

  The sweater, though it was heavier than the one she had been wearing before, still held fast to her form. She was after all under-sized, but to him was she in no way girl-ish. It was hopeless, he stared on, his eyes wondering over the curvature of her hips, the swell of her breasts. She was almost the woman she would grow into one day, he concluded to himself.

  Yup, she’s definitely not a little girl.

  It struck him again. Much like it had in the clearing where she had fallen in an exhausted heap. It had even continued throughout their cart-ride to the mall, he was as confounded by the notion he knew her. And yet, he was uncertain how it had to be true. He could not explain why he was so certain of it. Where had he seen her before? And yet, how? She was from Arizona. How could he know her?

  And still…?

  “Hey, Drew,” beckoned Marianna.

  Andrew’s eyes refocused on her, realizing she had moved much closer toward him while he was floundering in thought. He was going to say something, but she put a small finger on his lips, which made him stop and go stiff at the same time. He was not prepared to feel her ever-warming skin against his mouth.

  “I wanted to thank you for saving me.” Her voice had dropped an octave or two.

  Was her throat still bothering her, he thought, his mind racing. Or was she being sultry for real?

  Oh god!

  “Well, it was every one of us,” stammered Andrew.

  She closed the remaining distance between them. “I don’t care. I woke-up in your arms, with your warmth around me and your eyes looking down at me.”

  Her stare intensified.

  He found he could not look away.

  Then, she began to speak about what he known all along. “You looked exactly the same in my dreams. The dreams I have been having about you each night since I arrived here in this place. The same dream I had at least one time when I was still asleep in my bed back home,” she admitted. Her eyes were boring into his.

  He got lost within the depths of those swirling pools.

  “I knew your name before you told me when we were outside just now, because you told it to me, night after night… in my dreams.”

  He could only stare back, his face on the verge of exploding with the realization of the truth.

  “Do I sound like a crazy Native American midget?” she purred. The sounds coming from her felt like velvet caressing his ears.

  “You’re not crazy and you’re definitely not a mid–,” he began, but he did not finish.

  Marianna pulled him toward her, closer than before, with both hands, bringing him down to her level.

  Before he could think about resisting, she kissed him soundly on the lips.

  His eyes popped out of his head in complete disbelief.

  After a short time, he closed them. He let the thousands of emotions and feelings course through his body unobstructed. He let himself relish the warm, inviting press of her against him. That’s when he understood this was not something new. This was familiar. In his heart and in his mind, he acquiesced and let the concept become fact.

  I do know you, Marianna. I have for quite some time now…

  A minute later they came apart, breathing heavy, staring into each other’s eyes.

  There was a sly grin etched one side of Marianna’s face. “Come on, Drew, let’s go find me some new jeans to wear.” Her smile was wicked. “I might even let you watch…”

  Oh. My. God, was all Andrew could think, thousands of new images washing over him, drowning.

  He knew then, he was in trouble.

  She already had him wrapped around her little finger.

  Hopeless… indeed.

  ~~~~~~~<<< ᴥ >>>~~~~~~~

  ~ 21 ~

  Don’t be Such a Pinche Sore Loser, Esa!

  Day Four, Sunday, 10:27 am…

  It had been over two hours since he had last seen her
. Despite the passage of time, it still made him grin when he thought about her. He enjoyed the fact he had taunted her into an insane fit of rage. She had followed him for miles before she realized he was deliberately drawing her away. He was leading her far, far astray from her intended targets – the children and his son, Andrew.

  It had started the morning four days prior. Before the first storm had struck the land like a machete through a melón, cutting right through everything warm, it had left nothing but frozen cold in its’ wake. He had been running, egging-on the little bitch, and she had followed. She had been smug at first, certain of her dominance over him, the situation and the world around her. She was an over-confident little puta, that was for sure.

  She became more and more pissed off every time he “shifted” from one place to the next, moving without moving. All he had to do was think about it - too will it and it happened. But, boy, did it ever get her fucken chones in a wad.

  How and when he’d learned to do this, he did not know nor had he cared to remember. Maybe it had happened that first night. The night he had stalked the land like a mad man - walking, crawling and screaming, on the vestiges of insanity. To him, that first day in this god forsaken place was a blur, filled with fear and anguish. He did not care to revisit it again. There was no use for extraneous bullshit of that sort. It was not healthy stuff, ese.

  Instead, he told himself in simple terms he could move without moving. Yes, he could “phase” like one of those horny-ass gavachos on Star Trek. He could because he needed to and that‘s all there was to it. Of course, he did not need no damned machine to help him. He could do it of his own free will. So, take that pinché Spook or Spork, or whatever your god damned name had been, you pointy-eared vato! Whether he had done so out of fear or the sheer will to stay alive and protect his son, it did not matter. He could control it; bend his will to his exact location on this world.

  Over time, he began to understand he could dissipate in one place and aspirate in another. He could move from one locale to another much quicker than he had when he had drawn that wicked little bitch down what used to be La Loma Road. He had become faster, more efficient each time he did it. He knew his power was growing. The only catch it seemed, was he needed to either see or know the place he wanted to travel. He had to know it in the minutest of detail. This bothered him at first. Yet, the more he “phased” his body through the air - the strange air of this place - he was somehow able to memorize where he had been. It was a memory down to the molecular level. Even that, over time, became almost second nature, like taking a wizz or flapping out a wet pedo.