Frostbitten

by Heather Beck

  “Queen of poisons’ meant to...” Anastasia muttered, trying desperately to remember the rest of Julia’s chant.

  “Are you okay?” Frost asked, looking at her in concern.

  “Queen of poisons’ meant to burn!” Anastasia continued, excited that she’d recalled the first line. “Heal, forget, then...” Creasing her forehead, she frowned, frustrated because she knew that there were merely a few words remaining.

  “Seriously, Anastasia, you’re freaking me out.”

  “Then all is done!” she cried, finishing the verse. She repeated the words, contemplating what they could mean until finally, it dawned on her. “Oh my gosh, Frost!” she exclaimed, feeling a renewed sense of hope. “I think I know how to stop the transformation!”

  Racing against the setting of the sun, Anastasia and Frost made their way through Cedar Falls Woods on the snowmobile they’d left at the edge of Hartfield. Increasing the difficulty of their ride was the presence of a strong, howling wind which was quickly growing in strength. This prevailing wind seemed to be mocking them, as if morbidly foreshadowing the arrival of four new werewolves.

  Not if I have anything to do about it, Anastasia thought, her heart beating a little faster as the cabin came into view.

  Bringing the snowmobile to a stop, Anastasia and Frost quickly dismounted, but before they could enter the cabin, something caught their eyes. There, off to the side, was a black tarp covering a large object. Anastasia had only taken one step forward when Frost pulled her back. Noticing that Symon’s paw was sticking out slightly from under the tarp, she felt her stomach churn. She didn’t want to think about the reason why her grandfather had relocated him outside.

  “Come on,” Frost said, obviously trying hard to ignore his emotions in order to stay level-headed.

  Together, Anastasia and Frost rushed to the cabin’s door. Upon entering they found her grandfather standing in the middle of the room, his face stained with tears as he pointed a rifle straight at Leo’s chest. Immediately, he looked up at Anastasia and Frost, the desperation in his eyes clearly visible.

  “Did you find a cure?” Mr. Lockhart asked, his hand shaking as he continued to hold the rifle in a shooting position.

  “Yes,” Anastasia heard herself say confidently, despite having no way of knowing if her plan would work. “I’m going to need a bowl and matches.”

  Finally lowering his rifle, Anastasia’s grandfather used his free hand to open his hunting pack which sat upon the table. He retrieved a box of matches, and after tossing them into a nearby bowl, he offered the items to Anastasia.

  “What are these things for?” Frost questioned, sounding equally confused and anxious.

  “When you asked Julia how to stop the transformation, she gave us the answer in her song,” Anastasia explained, while opening the locket and allowing the wolfsbane to fall into the bowl without her ever touching it. “This plant is wolfsbane, and according to Julia, it must be burned if the victims are to heal and forget. You’ll want to cover your nose before we begin – this stuff is toxic.”

  One by one, Anastasia, Frost and Mr. Lockhart pulled up their coat collars, leaving their eyes exposed. Then, Anastasia struck a match and threw it into the bowl. The wolfsbane instantly burst into an unnaturally bright flame, creating clouds of black smoke which swirled wildly despite the lack of wind. Slowly walking amongst the fallen hunters, Anastasia carefully wafted her hand through the smoke, making sure their faces were well-exposed to the fumes. As the flame began to diminish, Anastasia kept smudging the hunters, until eventually, nothing more than black ash remained.

  Standing back, Anastasia placed the sooty bowl on the table and then stared at the hunters, waiting for something to happen. The minutes passed by painfully slow, causing her to fear that the wolfsbane hadn’t worked or, worse, she’d killed them with the plant’s poison. Concerned, Anastasia peered closely at them, relieved to discover that they were at least still breathing.

  “Please wake up,” Anastasia muttered softly, her eyes especially falling upon Mr. Fairbanks, “preferably as humans.”

  In response, Anastasia heard a low moan. Although it had hardly been audible, she leaned further toward Mr. Fairbanks, expecting him to awaken at any moment. Yet, he stayed in the same state, looking as if he was neither alive nor dead. The moan came again, this time louder and more distinct. She now realized that it was Leo who’d made the noise.

  Anastasia, Frost and Mr. Lockhart hurried to Leo’s side, watching anxiously as his eyes fluttered open. Appearing confused, Leo scanned his surroundings before attempting to sit up with some difficulty. Mr. Lockhart and Frost steadied him, but Anastasia was too preoccupied with the moans coming from Pete and Mike as they, too, began to rise.

  “Why am I here?” Leo asked, his voice hoarse.

  “Don’t you remember?” Frost pried gently, clearly trying to hide the significance of his question.

  Tension filled the room as they waited for Leo’s answer. His brow was deeply furrowed, and he was quiet for what seemed like far too long. Then slowly, he shook his head, while still looking very confused.

  “What happened to us?” Mike demanded, while standing up somewhat unsteadily and then helping Pete to do the same.

  “The four of you were hurt during the hunt,” Mr. Lockhart explained. “We had the wolf surrounded, and he wouldn’t go down without a fight. You were all so courageous, and without you, I would’ve never been able to kill it.”

  “The wolf is dead?” Pete pressed nervously.

  Mr. Lockhart nodded. “What’s important now is that we return home. It was fortunate that I found Frost and Anastasia’s hunting cabin, but our families don’t know where we’ve been, and they’ll be starting to worry. Our snowmobiles are outside. Will you men be able to ride back to Hartfield?”

  “Of course,” Mike spoke for all of them, “but first we want to see the wolf.”

  “I can assure you that you won’t miss it,” Mr. Lockhart said to Mike, before turning to the other hunters. “Grab your packs, men. There’s still plenty of food and water inside of them.”

  “I’m not leaving without Fairbanks,” Leo stated, looking at him with great unease. “What the hell kind of injuries has he sustained?”

  “You have your own wounds to be concerned with,” Mr. Lockhart advised, gesturing toward Leo’s bloody shoulder.

  “I said I’m not leaving.”

  “Anastasia and Frost are taking him to Hartfield Hospital,” Mr. Lockhart told Leo, obviously thinking fast, “and you’re holding them back.”

  Not looking entirely convinced, Leo picked up his pack and followed Mike and Pete out of the cabin. Now that they were alone, Anastasia’s grandfather turned to her, offering his rifle to her. Taken aback, she made no attempt to reach for it.

  “If Mr. Fairbanks doesn’t wake up, I need you to promise me that you’ll kill him.”

  “What?” Anastasia gasped, shocked that her grandfather would ask her to do such a horrible thing. “I...I can’t.”

  “I’ve seen what these things can do, and it would only take one unruly werewolf to destroy this town. Please, Anastasia, promise me.”

  Reluctantly, Anastasia took the rifle, but she refused to promise anything. Instead, she said firmly, “I’m going to give him more time.”

  “Not too much,” Mr. Lockhart warned, before kissing Anastasia’s forehead and then closing the cabin door behind him.

  Anastasia immediately placed the rifle on the table, hating the way it felt in her hands. When she turned around, she saw Frost standing over Mr. Fairbanks, his body language tell-tale signs of his disappointment and distress.

  “Why didn’t he awaken like the others?” Anastasia wondered aloud.

  With a heavy sigh, Frost shrugged. “All I know is that it’s going to be a very long night.”

  * * *

  When dawn broke the following day, Anastasia awoke to find herself only somewhat rested. She’d spent last night falling in and out of terrifying, abst
ract dreams which made absolutely no sense to her. All she remembered was being cold, lost and scared. That feeling of fear suddenly shifted from Anastasia’s dreams and into reality as she saw Frost placing a blanket over Mr. Fairbanks.

  “Is he...?” Anastasia couldn’t finish her words.

  “He’s alive,” Frost reassured her. “I’m worried about his temperature, though. One minute he’s almost too hot to touch, then the next, he’s cold. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

  Anastasia felt her heart sink upon hearing Frost’s unusual description of Mr. Fairbanks. Although her recent encounter with him had been horrible, in his own obscured way he’d thought that his actions were in her best interest. She also couldn’t forget the fact that he was her best friend’s father. Straightaway, Anastasia knew what she had to do.

  “I need you to pick up Chloe and bring her here,” Anastasia instructed, while searching through the pack her grandfather had left for her. Finding a mini notebook and pen, she scribbled a letter to Chloe, urging her to come to the cabin. “Give her this,” she said, handing him the note.

  “Why?” Frost asked bluntly.

  “Well, I don’t know how to drive a snowmobile, and even if I did, I can’t remember the way through the woods.”

  “That’s not what I meant, Anastasia. What would be the point of bringing Chloe here? She wouldn’t want to see her dad in this state.”

  “She deserves the truth, and in case Mr. Fairbanks doesn’t wake up, she’s the one who should make a final decision.”

  “You’re right,” Frost admitted after a moment of silent deliberation. “It’s just, I can’t imagine leaving you. This last week we’ve been together almost constantly, and I don’t want it any other way.”

  Unexpectedly, Anastasia blinked back tears. Those words were the sweetest she’d ever heard, but right now she had to be sensible. “If we can’t manage a few hours apart, how will we cope when we return to our separate homes?” She turned her head away from him, not really wanting to hear his answer.

  Upset, Frost gently kissed her lips. “Stay safe while I’m gone,” he muttered, before taking leave of the cabin.

  With nothing else to do but wait, Anastasia filled those long, lonely hours fretting endlessly. She worried about Mr. Fairbanks waking up and what subsequent actions she’d be forced to take. On the other hand, she was more afraid that he would never awaken, leaving him in that petrified state forever. Worst of all was Chloe’s impending arrival. She would soon be seeing her father like this, and unfortunately, Anastasia still hadn’t figured out the best way to tell her the whole unbelievable truth.

  As Anastasia heard an approaching snowmobile, she knew that there would be no more time for thinking. Taking a deep breath and mustering all her courage, she stood up from the rocking chair and opened the door. That’s when she saw Chloe, who looked absolutely frantic as she hurried forward.

  “Where is my dad?” Chloe demanded, her face red from crying. “Leo told me you and Frost were taking him to Hartfield Hospital, but when I went there, the staff said he’d never been admitted. What the hell is going on, Anastasia?”

  At a loss for words, Anastasia stepped aside, revealing Mr. Fairbanks lying lifelessly on the floor with the blanket still on top of him. As Chloe let out a shriek and fell to her father’s side, Anastasia had to look away; she couldn’t bear to see her friend in so much pain.

  “Call an ambulance!” Chloe screamed. “Quick!”

  “You have to calm down,” Frost told her.

  Reluctantly, Anastasia faced Chloe once again, knowing that she would have to intervene. “There’s no point in calling for help,” she said softly.

  “What is wrong with you two?” Chloe cried, standing up and pulling her cell phone from her coat pocket so she could dial 9-1-1. Immediately, the call failed since there was no reception.

  “Chloe, you have to listen to me,” Anastasia begged. “What I’m about to say is hard to believe, but I promise you it’s true. The Cedar Falls werewolf isn’t some myth – it’s real, and your father was part of a group that was hunting it. During a fight, he and some other men were bitten. Frost and I found a cure to stop them from becoming werewolves, and it worked, with the exception of your father.”

  Looking at Anastasia as if she was crazy, Chloe suddenly slapped her across the face. “My dad could be dying, and you’re making jokes?” she seethed in disbelief. “You disgust me!”

  Tears stung in Anastasia’s eyes as she placed her hand lightly against her burning cheek. She winced at the pain of Chloe’s words and actions, unable to believe that her friend could be so spiteful, especially toward her. Unfortunately, Anastasia had realized too late that bringing Chloe here wasn’t her smartest idea.

  “She doesn’t deserve that,” Frost warned, blocking Chloe from getting any closer to Anastasia.

  “It’s okay, Frost,” Anastasia lied, unwilling to give up that quickly.

  “None of this is okay!” Chloe yelled, trying unsuccessfully to shove Frost aside so she could get to Anastasia. “My dad needs help, and you’re doing nothing!”

  “First, I need you to trust me, Chloe. We can’t do this any other way.”

  As impossible as it seemed, Anastasia’s words made Chloe angrier. Her eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth to respond, likely with something harsh. However, before she could speak, a groan echoed throughout the cabin.

  “Chloe, is that you?” someone asked in a dry, raspy tone.

  Turning to face Mr. Fairbanks, they watched in amazement as he slowly sat up. Like the other hunters, he appeared unsteady and disoriented, but Anastasia understood that as a normal sign of his recovery. After all, what really mattered was that he was alive and not a werewolf. Anastasia let out a sigh of relief, one which she’d been holding in for what seemed like a very long time.

  “Thank God you’re alright,” Chloe sobbed, after reaching her father’s side and then throwing her arms around him.

  “Yes, I...I’m fine,” Mr. Fairbanks replied, casting a curious glance at his surroundings. “I don’t know why I’m here, though.”

  “We can figure that out later,” Chloe promised him. “Right now, I need to take you to a doctor.” Looking up at Anastasia and Frost, she spoke coolly, “You’re going to help me get him out of here, but that’s the last thing we’ll ever do together.”

  In an attempt to suppress her hurt feelings, Anastasia concentrated on getting ready to leave. As she retrieved Mr. Fairbanks’ pack, she began to ponder why he’d awakened at that moment. Perhaps it was somehow due to Chloe’s presence, or it could’ve been purely coincidental. Even if Anastasia never knew why, she was just grateful that the hunters had survived; although, more than anything, she wished the same could be said for Symon.

  After taking Mr. Fairbanks to Hartfield Hospital and, upon Chloe’s insistence, leaving immediately, Anastasia and Frost started for Cedar Falls. This was one homecoming that she wasn’t looking forward to, and the closer they came to the town lines, the more anxious she felt. Anastasia still hadn’t thought of a probable excuse for where she’d been, and once her mother knew that she was fine, her worry would certainly turn into anger.

  All too soon, Anastasia and Frost pulled into the Lockhart’s driveway. Strangely, the first thing she noticed was her grandfather looking out the living room window, where he’d probably been waiting for quite a while. Before she’d even unbuckled her seatbelt, he was hurrying from the house and straight toward them.

  “I guess some things never change,” Anastasia commented, recalling the first time Frost had taken her home.

  “Everything’s changed,” Frost responded with sadness in his eyes.

  Giving him a soothing hug, Anastasia whispered, “Not us.” However, she worried that Frost didn’t feel the same. Was it possible that when he saw her, he was reminded of the horrible events in the woods and, worse, his father’s death?

  A sudden tapping sounded upon the window, causing Anastasia and Frost to break from
their embrace. Slightly embarrassed, they got out of the car, where they were met with her concerned-looking grandfather.

  “What happened with Fairbanks?” Mr. Lockhart pressed, not allowing them to speak first.

  “He awakened as a human this morning,” Anastasia explained, unwilling to divulge all the details. “He’s fine now and so are we.”

  “Then everything’s been taken care of,” Mr. Lockhart said with relief, implying that he’d already given Symon’s body to the authorities. In an obvious attempt to make peace, he turned to Frost and added in a good-natured tone, “You know, I’ll need my car back at some point. Can I give you a ride home?”

  “My SUV is at the edge of the woods, and I’m sure it’ll need a boost,” Frost accepted graciously, even though none of this could be easy for him. As he entered the passenger side of the car, he gave Anastasia a small smile and mouthed the words, I love you.

  She smiled back, but that feeling of happiness didn’t last long as her grandfather stepped in front of her, appearing very grave.

  “Your mother’s inside,” Mr. Lockhart warned her. “You’ll have privacy to talk since Rose is at work. Just choose your words carefully – the less said, the better.”

  Anastasia shivered as she watched her grandfather get into the car and then drive away. Although she should’ve been glad that he was starting to treat Frost with respect, she was more preoccupied with what he’d said, or rather, how he’d said it. She felt like he was almost threatening her to keep quiet.

  Taking a deep breath and trying to focus on what she would say to her mother, Anastasia headed toward her house. Her grandfather had left the door unlocked, and as she entered, she instantly noticed how silent it was. Nevertheless, Anastasia experienced a sense of comfort, like she’d finally returned home.