The
Snow Swept
Trilogy
ALSO BY DERRICK HIBBARD
This Side of Eden
The Double Stroller Hand Grenade
Impish
Snow Swept
Snow Falling
Snow Pyre
Non-Fiction
College Fast Track: Essential Habits for Less Stress and More Success in College
Law School Fast Track: Essential Habits for Law School Success
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Copyright 2014 by Derrick Hibbard
Acknowledgements
As always, a very special thanks to Linda Anderson, who wields her red editing pencil like a magic wand and works wonders.
Thanks to my wife, Amanda, for allowing me to constantly bounce ideas off her. I'm not sure she knew what she was getting herself into when she said yes.
Thanks also to Nina and Landon Finter, Seth Welner, and Monique Malachi, for being the first to read this book and for offering edits and suggestions.
Thanks to my brothers, Mitchell, Brady, and Peter, and too many friends to list here (among them: Joe Bowden, Adam Richards, Alex Perez, Tania Gomez, and Colton Hickman) for listening to me tell this story over and over again.
Most of all, my warmest thanks to you, dear reader. The best part of creating worlds is sharing them with you.
THE SNOW SWEPT TRILOGY
ALSO BY DERRICK HIBBARD
Acknowledgements
Snow Swept
Part One: The Floating Forest
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Part Two: Route B, Michigan Ave.
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Part Three: Hunters and Prey
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Part Four: Aftermath
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Snow Falling
Part One: Before
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Part Two: Now
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Part Three: Move, Before the Devil Gets Ya
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Snow Pyre
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Also By Derrick Hibbard
Snow Swept
Snow Falling
Snow Pyre
This Side of Eden
The Double Stroller Hand Grenade
IMPISH
Law School Fast Track: Essential Habits for Law School Success
College Fast Track: Essential Habits for Less Stress and More Success in College
Snow Swept
Book One in the Snow Swept Trilogy
Derrick Hibbard
It would be a good idea for you not to
trust
in your own reality,
the one you breathe and feel today within yourself
because—like that of yesterday—
it is destined to reveal itself as an illusion
tomorrow.
-Pirandello
When I have seen such interchange of state,
Or state itself confounded to decay;
Ruin hath taught me thus to ruminate,
That Time will come and take my love away.
--Shakespeare (Sonnet 64)
Part One: The Floating Forest
Chapter One
The young terrorist fled into the icy forest as the men who hunted her followed. Mae Edwards was very pretty. Her hair was long and blonde, her eyes the color of Caribbean surf, and her skin was smooth, and except for some light freckles on the bridge of her nose and cheeks, almost flawless. Today was her birthday, exactly six years since she'd first beco
me a killer, a terrorist.
Now, she ran into the forest, into shadows and ice, and they followed.
Mae ignored the flashing pain in her ankle and the sinking guilt in her stomach. Her lungs burned, her muscles screamed in agony, but she kept running. It was the only thing she could think of to do. Mae had to get to a safe place, to escape the cabin and the woods, and either she escaped, or she died. It was that simple. Escape, or die.
The trees, with their enormous black trunks and snarly limbs, looked like the skeletons of giants from a forgotten fairytale, lumbering in the dark. Frozen branches creaked and groaned under the weight of ice and snow, blown by the cold winter wind. Layers of packed snow and powder blanketed the forest floor, with drifts piled high at the base of the trees.
Mae passed into a moonlit clearing and saw that the dark forest from where she'd come was nothing compared to the blackness of the forest beyond. It loomed like the cavernous mouth of a monster.
If she wasn’t about to die, Mae would have stopped at the edge of the clearing, before the forest and the dark really began, but she didn't miss a beat. She kept running, ducking the low hanging branches, sliding on the ice, and breathing heavily as she thought about the dark stretches of forest, and everything unknown, beyond.
A flash of memory—she thought of her dad sitting on the edge of her bed, reading Little Red Riding Hood, his voice low and inflecting with the intensity of the story. She remembered being tucked snuggly into the patchwork quilt her mom had made her for her sixth birthday. The quilt was made up of all her baby clothes, soft and warm, each patch from a different pajama shirt, or sundress, or coveralls, each patch a memory.
As her dad read from the story of the little girl in the red cloak, on her way to Grandma's house through the woods, she remembered pulling the covers up to her chin and shutting her eyes when it came to the part about the wolf in the forest. The thought of a little girl in the woods, all alone and stalked by a giant animal with long and shiny teeth (the better to eat you with, my dear), was enough to terrify her. She imagined its cold yellow eyes staring at her, unblinking, its rancid breath misting the cold night air. The wolf was a childhood horror that constantly lurked in the shadows of her imagination.
Her mom had warned her dad against reading stories like that to her, because of her active imagination, and it was a warning that she wished her dad had heeded. Because of the wolf, she was terrified of the forest, especially at night. She would even avoid looking out her bedroom window at the trees that surrounded their home and property, afraid that she’d see a wolf just beyond the manicured grass, standing on its hind legs and grinning at her with its wide and gaping maw. It was a fear that had stayed with her, that grey wolf with its long snout and yellow eyes, always on its haunches, waiting for her.
Even now, she had to force herself to not think about the wolf. The darkness shifted all around her, moving in sync with the winter wind and the creaking movements of the forest. The persistent fear that the long, grey wolf was always around the next tree, in the shadows and waiting for her, was silly, and she knew it.
At the moment, the fear was especially silly because she was about to die anyway, despite her fears. And it wasn’t the wolf she had to worry about.
A bullet tore into a tree trunk inches from her face, spraying the air with bits of wood and ice. She slid to her knees as two more bullets whizzed by overhead, barely missing her. She stayed on the ground, holding her breath and waiting for more bullets. Her lungs felt like they would explode with her sudden refusal to breathe, and she could feel her heart beat exploding in her ears. Dropping to her stomach, she slid her body behind a pile of rocks and ice, waiting for more gunshots, and searching for any sign of the shooter. Bits of snow crept up underneath her shirt and pressed against her stomach, cold and hard, and she fought the urge to jump up and brush it out.
When several seconds passed with no more shots and no movement that she could see, she got into a crouching position and crawled out from behind pile of rocks and snow. Mae scanned the forest and the outline of the cabin, looking for any movement.
A shadow shifted on the roof of the cabin, and she knew it was Eddie. She couldn’t see more than the outline of his body, but even that was enough to see that his rifle was still shouldered and pointed in her direction. She shifted lower on the ground, trying to blend into the forest, and watched Eddie scan the area with the scope of his rifle. She’d seen the rifle in the room just moments before, propped up against an old dresser, and it was big enough to do some damage.
After nearly a minute, Eddie lowered the gun and slung it on a shoulder strap. He walked gingerly across the roof to a tree that reached out over the shingles and provided an easy path to climb to the ground. Mae watched closely, knowing that there was a particularly thick patch of ice on the roof, right beneath the branch, and she hoped that Eddie would slip on that patch. If she was lucky, he'd fall from the roof and break his neck without another shot, giving her more time to slip away into the darkness without being pursued.
Eddie did slip, but he caught himself on the tree branch before falling. She saw his shoulders rise and fall as he took a deep breath, and could hear his muttered curses. He moved more carefully as he began to climb down the tree. Its branches were positioned almost perfectly for climbing, and it wouldn’t take long for him to be on the ground, his rifle in hand again.
As he climbed, he turned his back toward her, giving Mae a window of opportunity, and she used it. She jumped to her feet and tore through the woods. Her eyes were more adjusted to the darkness now, and the moon shone brilliantly overhead, cutting through the snarling, skeletal branches and gleaming on the icy forest floor. Once on the ground, it would take him only a fraction of a second to pull his rifle to his shoulder, find her in his sights and pull the trigger.
Even then, a shot to the back of her head would be a better end than the one that had waited for her. At least if she was dead, they couldn't take her back to the tank. As she ran, she counted off the seconds in her mind, estimating that she had no more than six seconds to get away before Eddie reached the ground, turned and saw her running.
One…
She leapt over a fallen branch and almost lost her footing on a patch of ice. Luckily, her feet gained traction on a pile of leftover autumn leaves that poked through the surface of the ice. She ran hard.
Two…
Her backpack bounced on her back as she dodged a large boulder and ducked a low-hanging branch. She ripped the bag from her shoulders and held it close to her chest to avoid making any more noise than was necessary.
Three…
Mae's heart thudded in her chest and pounded in her ears. The cold air burned her lungs. She was in good shape, but the all-out sprint in the freezing dead of winter was a shock to her body. Her cheeks stung, and her eyes watered.
Four…
She heard the rifle crack, and the whisper of a bullet whizzing to her left. She dropped to the ground, rolling with her forward momentum. The bullet hit something close by, but far enough away that she breathed a sigh of relief. Another two shots exploded in the night, but she couldn't hear the bullets hit anything, so she assumed he was shooting randomly in the direction she'd run.
Time to change directions. She glanced to her right and then to her left, trying to decide which way she would go. To her left, the forest seemed darker than on the right. To her right, she could hear the faint sound of gurgling water. If there was a river, or a stream, she would be trapped, or have to find a place to cross. The thought of falling into the water and getting wet—even just one of her feet—was enough to send her body into a shivering fit and then hypothermia and death. It was smarter to stay away from the water, she knew. It was smarter to go left.
But to her left, the dark forest loomed and she couldn't shake the image of the long wolf, standing on it haunches and waiting for her. Snow flakes drifted lazily from above and disappeared into the shadows, where anything could be waiting.
M
ae turned back to the sound of water and started crawling. As she went, she looked over her shoulder and strained her ears for any sign that her pursuers were getting close, but the forest was silent. If they were following her, they were coming quietly, and they would overtake her quickly.
Mae took a deep breath, then jumped to her feet and started running again. Instantly, two bullets were fired in her direction, the first hitting a tree behind her, and the second tearing through the hood of her jacket. Tiny down feathers exploded from the coat, mixing serenely with the falling snow.
"She's over here!" Eddie called, and even then, she could hear his Brooklyn accent loud and clear. He was so close, and gaining on her! A few more bullets were fired, but they all missed.
Not like the movies. The movies make it seem easy to hit a moving target in a darkened forest—something she knew was close to impossible, especially while giving chase.
"She's headed toward the river!" Eddie called again, "Oskar, cut her off before she crosses!"
He yelled something else about shooting her in the legs, to maim and not kill, but she didn't catch it over the pounding pulsing in her ears. Mae's heart was going full steam ahead, and her lungs felt as though they'd explode. She darted around a large elm tree, but took the curve too close. Her hand caught on a snarled piece of broken bark, cutting the skin. She gritted her teeth and kept running.
It was hopeless. She knew she would never get away from them, but she had to run. She thought of her mom, and how she would have run if she'd been able to. Even her dad, before all this had happened, would have tried to escape, would have died fighting. But there was no choice between fight or flight with these people. Always flight, to the ends of the earth. To fight is death.
The dying screams in the cabin, loud and fresh in her mind, seemed to be on repeat.
To fight was a slow death in the tank. In the tank where there was nothing.
She ran faster, the trees now a blur. Gunshots pierced the night air, and bullets smashed into trees and rocks, spraying wood and ice into the air. Her adrenaline was peaking, the pain in her lungs and heart no longer slowing her down, but giving her reason to push on. With the explosion of adrenaline came the dizzying rush in her mind and body, and she felt like the split second at the beginning of a fall from a very high place. She gave into the feeling, knowing that it was a mistake that would save her life.
The Snow Swept Trilogy Page 1
