The First Fall

by Daniel Willcocks

  Karl reached the door then whirled, his face a contorted mess of fury. He pointed a thick finger towards her. “You tell a single soul about this, and you’re going to regret it.”

  He opened the door and a flurry of cold swept into the room. Snow hammered from the skies, adding several inches of fresh powder to the hard, condensed layer that perpetually covered the ground. Tori wrapped her gown tightly around her, her teeth already chattering. Even Karl squinted and shielded his eyes from the onslaught of the snowstorm. Neither one of them noticing the slight hue of red which tinted the town.

  The sudden blast of cold snapped Tori from her reverie. She made a step towards Karl. “Wait. Karl, please. Can we just talk about this? It’s awful out there, you don’t have to go.”

  With dark, unfeeling eyes, Karl spared a final glance back at her. He turned away and stepped outside. Then he was gone.

  Snowflakes melted in the entryway, turning to gentle puddles on the wooden floor. Tori moved to the nearest window and pulled the curtains to the side. She hoped that maybe she might get a final glimpse of him, but the storm had already taken Karl, the eddies and whirls of snow dancing furiously outside.

  She allowed a few silent tears to fall as she made her way back to her bedroom. Her hands shook so much that her phone fell onto the floor. She knelt to retrieve it and found the corner of the screen was cracked. She stared at the dark mirror of the unlit display and saw the reflection of a woman she didn’t want to look at right now. Swiping to unlock the device, her eyes fixed on the notifications. A whole dashboard of instant gratification awaiting her. However, when she tried to dive into her security blanket of anonymous worshippers, she found that even this luxury had been stolen from her.

  She banged the heel of her palm against the screen. “Come on, dammit.” There was a red cross over the symbol for her network carrier. She glanced up and stared daggers at the sliver of the storm she could view through her curtains. The weathermen hadn’t predicted any kind of storm for the town today, usually a storm this extreme would have carried a series of warnings that had been distributed by the town mayor. She’d usually have enough of a warning to schedule content before her internet went down entirely and she was cast in a three-day blackout. But if any warning messages had been put out there, she had been oblivious to it.

  Of course you were, you were too busy ogling lover boy. You wouldn’t have seen any kind of warning, even if it had been written in chocolate on the end of his cock.

  She tried to open her apps, but there was no. Both her phone signal and her home internet—which was scrappy and rudimentary in this part of the world at best—showed no signs of cutting her a break. The notifications teased her, like messages from loved ones that she wasn’t allowed to read. In a final dismissive gesture of annoyance, she tossed the phone onto her bed and stared out at the storm, noting for the first time, the faint red glow that danced just beyond the blanket of dark clouds.

  2

  Cody Trebeck

  Monsters and memories swirled in the darkness.

  Three hours past his usual bedtime and Cody Trebeck was still lying awake. His hands laced behind his head, he squinted at the strange patterns cast by the warped wooden beams in the gloom and pictured his previous life, the one where sunlight and above-freezing temperatures were a staple of the conditions of his existence and he could ride down the street on his BMX. A life in which he could see his friends until the late evening, not having to worry about the encroaching chill that came with the Alaskan sunset. He had never experienced anything like it. Sure, when the sun hit its zenith, the below-freezing temperatures of the little town of Denridge Hills was just about bearable, as long as he wrapped up in several layers of the thick insulated clothing his uncle had purchased for him, but the moment the sun faded from sight it was as though the world had been dunked into an ice bath, and the cold sought succour in the marrow of his bones, finding somewhere to hide until the modest hours of sun appeared once more the following day.

  Cody hated it here, that much was clear in the visions that presented themselves to him. The darkness presented a kaleidoscope showreel of his former England life. Days in which he once cursed the near-relentless drizzle that poured down and slicked the paths and roads of London. A life in which summertime appeared for a six-week period and then you hauled your ass back to school. A world in which the weekends reigned supreme and every Monday to Friday was a never-ending waiting game just to have two more sweet days of freedom.

  England had seemed awful at the time, but nothing quite prepared him for this. He had studied Alaska, researched the northern reaches of its coastline and seen the stunning vistas on the internet. A shimmering green glow in the sky, glittering sunsets across a world frosted in snow. When he had boarded the plane with his uncle, his heart trembled with excitement. His friends were jealous, wishing they could accompany their families on a six-month research trip to one of the farthest inhabited reaches of the planet.

  But it hadn’t taken long into their journey to realize the reality of what he had done and where he was going.

  Holly’s face appeared before him, hovering inches from his bed. Her smile was playful and cute, if a little crooked. Freckles dotted her cheeks and her eyes shone with the same shimmering blue he had witnessed along the coastline of the Arctic Ocean. He could still smell her perfume if he tried hard enough, the scent of her which lingered on the collar of his school blazer after she embraced him with a warm hello.

  Cody sighed, his breath misting before him. Maybe that was part of what kept him awake, if Alex knew how to regulate the temperature in their temporary abode, perhaps he would be able to settle into sleep and let his dreams take wing. Despite the thick wool of his pyjamas and the pile of blankets and duvet that covered him, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been warm. Two months into this trip and still he shivered daily, nightly, and ever so rightly.

  Something knocked against his window, the sound as sudden a strike as if a bird had crashed and cracked its beak against the glass. Cody jumped and Holly’s ghostly face dissipated into nothingness.

  Like my chances of ever calling her my girlfriend.

  He lowered the duvet, regretting it almost instantly as he climbed to his knees and cautiously approached the window beside his bed. Outside, the dancing green light show of the Aurora Borealis performed its nightly routine, the top edges of the display taking on a slight pink hue. That was one thing the online photos had captured perfectly, at least. There was something magical in that glow. On his first night in Denridge, Cody had watched the Aurora for hours, unable to peel his eyes away from its entrancing display. In the shifting and pulsing lights, he saw the spectres of animals dancing, projected images of the natural world that had stretched from now until eons past. In its glow the world fell away and all that existed was a primal peace, an age-long gratitude, and a sincere understanding of his minuscule part in the journey of life. A profound glimpse at the—

  The crack came again, louder this time. The object caught Cody off-guard and he fell back onto his ass. His eyes darted to his doorway where the thin slivers of the hallway lights leaked through the cracks, half-expecting Alex to enter his room and ask him what the hell was going on.

  Cody gripped the window ledge with fingers turned spectral green from the lights. He peered out into the street, eyes scanning over the snow-laden rooftops of his town neighbors. The night was still. In the distance he could make out the town chapel, its spire puncturing the skyline. Somewhere beyond that, a mile or so north, lay Denridge High School, the place where he had acted as the trophy new kid for the best part of seven weeks, now.

  And there, directly in the street below, a dark shape rearing back, ready to hurl another projectile at his window. Cast under the light of the sodium arcs, his face was shadowed, but Cody immediately knew who it was. His signature snow jacket—the bottom half a nondescript black, the upper half an offensive neon orange—reflected back the light and called attention to th
e fifteen-year-old who had been assigned the lucky role of chaperoning the new kid.

  Cody eased the latch and opened the window, regretting it instantly as the cold rushed in to greet him. “Dude, what the fuck are you doing? My uncle’s going to hear you.”

  Cody ducked inside as another stone cracked against the glass, undeterred by Cody’s protestations.

  Kyle Samson lowered his hood and grinned. He was a handsome kid, with boyish blond hair and the kind of facial symmetry that caused girls to swoon at their favourite boybands. His eyes were an icy blue and he flashed snow-white teeth at Cody, a devilish look in his eye. “Get your ass out, pussy. We’re playing ball.”

  Cody looked back at his clock. 00:33am.

  “Are you kidding me? Alex’ll go nuts if he finds out I’m gone. Who’s even playing, anyway? Everyone’s asleep.”

  Kyle dug his hand in his pocket and tossed another stone at Cody’s window. This time a small spider-web crack appeared in the upper corner.

  “Just get your ass down, Trebeck. And bring your ball, this ain’t going to happen without you.”

  Cody deliberated this. On the one hand, he wasn’t exactly able to sleep, so maybe some exercise would help him wind down. On the other hand, he couldn’t just sneak out, could he? If Alex caught him sneaking out in the middle of the night, he’d likely ground him for the rest of the trip, and then what? He’d be left shivering in this shit-heap cabin with nothing more than a pathetic excuse for a fire that barely kept the frost at bay.

  Another stone. Cody’s cheeks flushed with warmth. “Dude!”

  The grin remained on Kyle’s face. “I’m not leaving until you get your ass down here. I told the others we’d collect them on the way.” He paused and locked onto Cody’s eyes. “You don’t want to let Sophie down, do you?”

  Cody’s throat constricted. Sophie Pearce… Denridge High School’s equivalent of Holly Marsh.

  He tried to hide the sudden flutter of excitement from his face, but Kyle saw right through it. He drew another stone from his pocket and tossed it casually up and down in his gloved palm. “I’ve got a pocket full of these bad boys. You want to test me?”

  Cody sent a wary glance back at his door, still half-terrified that his uncle was watching him silently, secretly half-disappointed that he wasn’t. At least if his uncle caught him, he’d have a valid excuse to remain indoors. On the other hand…

  Sophie.

  Cody wiped a hand across his brow and sighed. “Fine. Give me two minutes.”

  “Hurry your ass up. It’s freezing out here.”

  Cody shivered as he pulled the window closed. Yeah. You don’t need to tell me. He found his basketball, and scooped it into his arms.

  Navigating his way downstairs wasn’t the trickiest part of his escape. Although the ancient cabin creaked and groaned with each step he took across the landing, he knew that his uncle was unlikely to immediately wake up. The house spoke, had its own language. The Alaskan winds often battered the old shelter and caused the beams and supports to groan and complain in the night. At first, even Alex had trouble sleeping through the ceaseless conversation, but after a week or two he had adjusted—much better than Cody ever had—and snoozed deeply in the confines of his own bed.

  The tricky part was donning his insulation-wear. While the synthetic material did an okay job at keeping its wearer warm in sub-freezing temperatures, the synthetic material that covered the outside of the trousers and jackets created a racket when pieces of the material rubbed against each other. Cody found the farthest room from his uncle’s bedroom in order to suit himself up for the snow, but even just walking to the front door sounded like someone was repeatedly tugging a zip up and down, up and down. Every step was another zipping tug, and as cautious as he knew he was being, every step closer to the door filled him with dread that his uncle would finally foil his plans.

  Cody turned the key in the lock. The mechanism clicked, sounding like a single clap in the quiet. He flinched, screwed his eyes shut and teased the door open. The Aurora’s light spilled inside as he eased himself out and quickly closed it behind him.

  With a final turn of his key, he was outside.

  Cody breathed a sigh of relief, taking a moment to steady himself before turning around and jumping out of his skin.

  “Took your time, didn’t you?”

  Cody glared at Kyle, standing just three feet away. “Please, keep your voice down. If my uncle catches me, he’ll…”

  “He’ll what? Write about you in his books? Come on, dude. If anything, it’ll give him more inspiration for his characters. They might not be as flat as they usually are. Experience and tragedy adds depth.” He snatched the ball from Cody’s hands and smirked. “So I’ve heard.”

  “You’ve never read one of his books. How would you know?”

  But Kyle wasn’t listening. Already he had turned and was making his way down the street, trying and failing to spin the ball on the end of one gloved finger. The ball fell from his grip and hit the ground, barely bouncing as the snow absorbed its motion.

  Cody glanced up at his uncle’s bedroom window before pulling his hood tight about his head and following Kyle into the night.

  3

  Cody Trebeck

  It was reassuring to see that Kyle spared no compassion when it came to waking the rest of their unlikely band of misfits.

  His pockets appeared to have no end to their depths as he scouted out each of their bedrooms and launched the stones at the windows with impressive precision.

  Travis King was already prepared and waiting by the door when they arrived. Apparently, Kyle had seen it fitful to announce to some of their group that he’d be appearing like a specter in the night to lead the baller’s rebellion. After a brief curtain twitch, Travis appeared in the door with a grin as wide as his face.

  “Alright, fuckwits?” He hopped over to Karl and bumped his fist, pulling back after the initial impact and spreading his fingers as their mouths formed the trailing roll of an explosion, after which he turned to Cody and nodded. “New kid.”

  “Travis,” Cody replied. “How long have you guys been planning this?”

  “About a week.” Travis dug his hands deep into his pockets and tucked his chin, hiding his mouth behind the high collar of his jacket. “Thought you were going to tell him, Kyle?”

  Kyle chuckled. “Nah. More fun this way. Thought I was going to catch sight of the new kid in his bunny rabbit pjs, but no dice.”

  Cody shot him a look. While Kyle clearly had the run of the kids in tenth grade, Cody had been cautious of him since the day they had been paired up as chaperone and charge. He was a nice enough kid, sure, but sometimes Cody couldn’t help but feel that there was a hollowness to his smile, an emptiness behind his eyes. What did anyone really know of Kyle, anyway?

  Still, that didn’t stop the girls from chatting animatedly behind their hands whenever he walked past them in the halls.

  Kyle and Travis took the lead as they trudged on through town under the pulsing alien glow of the Aurora. The bleeding red continued its descent, but Cody was blind to it, keeping his head down and folding his arms tight around his chest. He had learned from an old movie that it was best to keep the torso warm in the harsh cold. While a human could live with frostbitten hands, they would struggle to survive if the chill drove deep into the organs.

  Their next stop found them waiting outside a house that looked as though it would barely survive another winter. The roof was already bowed, the whole house standing at a slight angle. The front porch displayed beams that had all rotted or broken as the weight of the snow crushed down upon it. A number of the windows were cracked with layers of blankets, cloths, and towels pressed up in sodden bunches against the corners to hold off the chill.

  “Doesn’t look like much, but the greatest treasure is always hidden in the most unlikely places,” Kyle said before tossing a stone up at the window on the left hand side. A loud crack filled the street and Cody wished he’d find an
other way to wake them up. Every crack of stone on glass was a chance for them to get discovered, hurled back to their houses, and reprimanded.

  As if reading Cody’s thoughts, Travis said, “Why don’t you just call her? Amy’s phone is always on.”

  “More romantic this way.”

  Travis scoffed. “Smashing her window and waking her parents up is romantic? I’d hate to see your version of Romeo and Juliet.”

  A face appeared in the window, ghostly white with bright wide eyes. Amy Lawson grinned, and was soon teasing open a front door that seemed determined to scream like a banshee with every fragment of movement.

  With only an inch left to close, Amy rolled her eyes and pulled the door roughly behind her. The sound was a thunderclap in a monastery. Cody’s eyes widened as he looked around at the other houses for anyone who might have heard.

  Amy skipped down the steps with unearned confidence. Her eyes met Cody’s and she let out a small chuckle. “Oh, relax, new kid. Mom spent the evening doing shots and playing online Scrabble. She’s out for the count.” She closed in on Kyle and wrapped her arms around his neck, planting a deep kiss on his lips. “Hey, baby.”

  “Hey, you.”

  Cody still couldn’t believe that Kyle was dating a high school junior. A year older than the rest of them, it was unheard of. It was every high school boy’s fantasy to get the chance to date an older woman, and here Kyle was, acting as though it was no big deal and that she was lucky to be dating him. Back in England, Cody had never seen anything like this. Women matured faster than men and, in most cases, the girls in his year group were already dating boys a year—sometimes two years–older than him.