A Solar Winter

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A Solar Winter Page 8

by Ryan Casey


  He was pointing it right at Holly.

  Holly felt trapped, then. She felt caught between two options. And none of the options sounded good.

  “My boy,” Ian said. “You killed him. You—you stabbed my wife. Why would you do that? Why?”

  Holly opened her mouth. She wanted to speak. She wanted to buy herself some time. But she was exposed. She was out in the open. And her chances were running out.

  “Answer me,” Ian said, pointing the rifle in her direction, finger dangerously hovering over the trigger. “Why did you do it?”

  Holly looked down at the icy pond.

  She gripped her hands tight.

  Then she looked back up at Ian.

  “I’m sorry. Really.”

  And then she slammed her foot down on the ice.

  She heard it crack.

  She felt the icy ground give way.

  And then she plunged down into the water below and felt coldness like she’d never felt before.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Mike stared down into the glistening eyes from Claire’s severed head, and he felt vomit creeping up his oesophagus.

  He could still hear the shouts and screams from the Grey Lodge mental health facility—the place he’d called home for the last few months. But they were muffled now. They were distant. It didn’t feel like they were a part of reality.

  Because Claire’s head was lying right before him.

  He could hear Kelsie screaming beside him, too. And he knew she shouldn’t be seeing this. He knew he should be trying his damnedest to protect her from things like this.

  But there was no hiding it away now. There was no brushing it under the carpet.

  This was reality.

  “She looks pretty still, doesn’t she? Like, she’s got a cute look to her face. Why don’t you get on your knees and give her a little kiss?”

  Mike looked up at the man opposite. He was standing there, spear in hand, smile on his face like this was all just some joke.

  And it made him feel sick.

  Sick, and mad.

  “You have no idea who this woman was,” Mike said.

  “I don’t give a shit who she was, quite frankly,” the man said, stepping closer to Mike, closer to Kelsie. “It was worth doing what I did to her just for that pussy look on your face right now, that’s all I’ll say.”

  Tension grew inside Mike. He clenched his fists. He wanted to beat this guy to a pulp.

  But Kelsie…

  Kelsie, right beside him…

  “You’ve made your point,” Mike said. “You’ve had your sick, twisted fun. Let us walk.”

  The man smiled. Let out a little grunt. “Where would the fun in that be, hmm?”

  “She’s just a kid,” Mike said. “A little girl with hopes and dreams. She doesn’t need to suffer.”

  The man walked right towards them, spear raised towards Kelsie. “I dunno. She looks old enough to pick her side to me. Which means she’s old enough to pay for her damned mistakes.”

  It was at that moment that Mike realised something. This man, there was no bargaining with him. There was no making him understand. He was one of the types who just wanted to see things go to shit—and he didn’t care who got in his way.

  This world was an opportunity for him to live out his sick fantasies that he’d no doubt been repressing for many years.

  He lifted the spear. Pointed it right at Kelsie’s head.

  Kelsie stood there, snivelling, shaking, crying.

  She looked up at Mike, tears in her eyes. “You promised,” she said.

  And Mike felt pure unfiltered guilt, then. Because Kelsie was right. He’d promised she’d survive. He’d promised she’d be safe.

  But what was he supposed to do?

  One move and this man would pierce open her neck.

  He gritted his teeth, heart racing, knowing he had to try something.

  He went to lift his hands.

  The man pushed the spear forward.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa.”

  The man stopped right away. Fear covered his face. He lowered his spear, turned around.

  In the distance, there was somebody else approaching.

  This man didn’t look as rough as the guy who’d pointed the spear at Mike and Kelsie. He wasn’t wearing a balaclava like the majority of his people. His face was scarred, and his dark hair was wispy and grey in patches. He had a look to his face; a smugness that Mike just wanted to wipe from it.

  There was something about him. An air of calm.

  But it was an air of calm that unnerved Mike more than the frantic ferocity of his companions.

  “What’s going on here?” he asked.

  The man with the spear looked panicked, concerned. “These—these two, Theo. They were threatening to kill me—”

  “Really? This man? This little girl? They were threatening to kill you?”

  “They—they aren’t to be trusted, mate. Seriously.”

  Theo walked over towards Mike. He looked into his eyes, squinting, like he was trying to read his soul.

  Then he looked at Kelsie. Lifted her tear-soaked chin, looked into her eyes in a way that made Mike want to batter him.

  Then he laughed a little. Turned around. “You see, I find that hard to believe.”

  “Theo—”

  “You know our rule. You know what we discussed. If someone escapes… we give them the opportunity to escape. Especially if they’re a child. It looks to be like you breached that rule. And we can’t have people breaching anything, can we?”

  The man went to stagger away. “Th—”

  But it was too late.

  Theo lifted a gun and shot the man to the ground.

  He walked over to him as he bled out. Closed his eyes as he struggled, held them shut until the life finally seeped from his body.

  Then he looked up at Mike, half-smile of regret on his face.

  “I am sorry for my old friend’s manners,” he said. “But at the end of the day, it’s an unpredictable world, isn’t it? Sometimes you’ve got to find unique ways of bringing order to it. Of bringing respect. That’s why we did what we did, after all.”

  He stood up, then. Put his gun away. Smiled much more fully as if he hadn’t just shot somebody.

  “Why are you doing this?” Mike asked.

  Theo frowned. “Why? I could ask your people the same thing.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “The raid on my camp. Stealing from my people. Killing my… my family. Or, wait. You’re the good guys, right? So it’s okay when you do it, isn’t it?”

  “I—I don’t—”

  “Don’t pretend you don’t have any knowledge of this. Your people put my people through hell. First, there was just a disagreement over supplies. Then it got nasty, and eventually… well, your people showed their true nature when they got the advantage, shall we say. But don’t worry. I made sure they paid for what they did, each and every one of them. The guy with the foot in the bear trap? Fred, right? Let’s just say he got off very lightly. That was his reward for leading us to you. There’s got to be incentive in life, right?”

  It clicked, then. Mike understood. The group. The group of people who’d gone out there. He knew Jimmy was a dodgy bastard. An evil streak, sometimes. But this… slaughtering another group, putting them through the kind of hell Theo was talking about… that went beyond anything Mike thought he or the others were capable of.

  “I can only apol—”

  “But in spite of all that,” Theo said, ignoring Mike completely. “In spite of everything, I’m still a reasonable guy. So I’m going to give you a chance. But on one condition.”

  He looked at Kelsie, and Mike knew right away what he was implying.

  He pushed Kelsie behind him. “Kelsie, get back. No chance. No frigging chance.”

  “You hand the girl over to me; I let you walk. If you don’t… well, let’s just say your final hours—maybe even days—will be mise
rable, painful ones.”

  Mike’s heart raced. He watched as Theo reached for his pistol, as he raised it and pointed it in Mike’s direction.

  “Mike?” Kelsie said, concern in her voice.

  “Hand the girl over,” Theo said. “Hand her over, or you both die.”

  He felt Kelsie move behind him. Felt her tug his arm. But he couldn’t risk looking around. He couldn’t risk even moving right now.

  But if he didn’t…

  “Don’t make me count down,” Theo said. “None of us would want that, would we?”

  Mike looked down at the ground. He looked into Claire’s eyes, which had glassed over.

  He thought about that drink they were going to have together; about the way he felt about her.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  Theo frowned. “What—”

  Mike booted Claire’s head right in Theo’s direction.

  And when he’d done that, he grabbed Kelsie’s hand and he ran.

  He heard shouting. He heard gunshots.

  But all this time, he just kept on running towards the comfort of the trees, trying to get over what he’d just had to do.

  He heard Kelsie crying, heard her saying things, but he was just too focused on getting away to hear what she was saying.

  When he’d been running for quite some time, he finally stopped.

  It was then, in their silence and security, that he saw what Kelsie had been crying about.

  “I’m hurt, Mike,” she said, fear in her voice. “I’m hurt.”

  The back of her right arm.

  It was bleeding.

  She’d been shot.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Ian watched Holly disappear under the icy water, and he wasn’t sure how to feel.

  The afternoon was rolling on. Evening was approaching. Night was going to be the worst, because it always was, lying there, alone with his thoughts.

  But at least this would give him a sense of ease.

  At least this would give him some comfort, as small a comfort as it might be.

  He watched the air bubbles reach the surface of the water. And as he stood there, heart racing, he wanted to go over there. He wanted to charge over there and hold this girl down. Because that’s what she deserved for what she’d done to his Tommy.

  But instead, he found himself rooted to the spot, just watching, just allowing it to happen.

  Watching her hope drift away.

  He wasn’t sure how long he stood there in the silence of the woods, watching more of those air bubbles reach the surface. But it was long enough to be certain. She couldn’t have survived this. Instinct would’ve brought her up to the top of the water. She must’ve passed out with the cold, or something like that. He didn’t know for certain. Only that he hadn’t seen her emerge from this icy pit, and that could only be good news.

  But there was something else, too. A rival tug pulling at him, making him want to go over there, making him want to drag her out, making him want to prolong it.

  Because it wasn’t fair. He was going to have to suffer for what had happened to his son, just like he’d suffered for what had happened to Corey.

  He would have to live with it.

  So this wasn’t over.

  He walked over to the side of the icy pool, looked inside its crystal-clear waters.

  When he saw Holly wasn’t there, he frowned.

  He moved closer towards it. Scanned it, up and down, checked out its full length.

  And when he didn’t see her anywhere, he began to worry.

  She was gone. She wasn’t here. But that wasn’t right. It didn’t make any sense. How could she have got away? How could she have escaped something like this?

  He gritted his teeth, moved closer to the pool of water. It was so cold he could feel it even when he was right above it.

  He wanted to know for certain. He wanted to see.

  So he took in a deep breath then dunked his head under.

  The iciness of the water was biting. It gave him a crippling headache right away. Every instinct told him to lift his head, to get out of here, but he resisted it, thinking of his son and how this was the smallest thing he could do for him.

  He opened his eyes.

  At first, he thought he saw Holly under the water.

  But then he realised it was something else.

  There was a pipe.

  Some kind of small drainage pipe right at the other end of the pool.

  And then it dawned on him.

  Could she have got through there? Was she small enough to have got through it?

  He looked up, over in the general direction of where the pipe led.

  And then he ran over to it.

  When he reached it, his worst fears were realised.

  There was an opening at the edge of the pond. A pipe opening.

  The cover over it had been pushed aside.

  Ian punched the ground repeatedly. She’d slipped away, the little shit. But she can’t have got far. She’d have hypothermia. She’d be struggling.

  He’d find her.

  And this time, he’d make damn sure she didn’t get away.

  He rushed ahead, trying to think where she might’ve gone, rifle in hand. He fired a few shots off into the distance, hoping to alarm her and bring her out of hiding.

  “I’m coming for you!” he shouted, again hoping it would rattle her enough to draw her out.

  But there was no sign of her.

  No sign at all.

  He fell back to the ground, gun in hand. Listened to the singing of the birds above. He’d been foolish for going after her when Sofia was back home recovering. He didn’t know what kind of a state he was in. He’d rushed out here and allowed his lust for vengeance to blind him.

  He covered his face, let out a cry, the anguish of losing his son still hitting him in suffocating waves.

  Then he took a deep breath, wiping the cold water from his face.

  He had to go back home.

  He had to go back to Sofia.

  She needed him right now.

  They needed each other.

  He went to stand when he heard something up ahead.

  Movement.

  And then he saw it.

  There was somebody in the distance.

  He felt that urge building inside once again. The urge telling him that Holly was so close. And if he could just get to her, he could get what he wanted. This would be over, once and for all.

  He crept towards her, slowly. He lifted his rifle. Tickled the trigger.

  But he wanted to be closer.

  He wanted to look into her eyes when he pulled the trigger.

  He wanted to see her fear.

  He moved closer towards her as she crouched there, struggling, shaking, trying to hide.

  And against his deepest instincts, he felt a smile stretch across his face.

  Because this was going to help him heal.

  This was going to help him feel better.

  He stepped around the side of the tree and went to pull the trigger.

  But when he saw what it was, he stopped.

  When he saw who it was—or rather, who it wasn’t—he stopped.

  The girl looked up at him.

  “Hello,” she said. “Don’t be alarmed. Especially not by the dog. There’s something I have to show you. Something very important. But first off… I have to apologise in advance.”

  Ian frowned. For a moment, he thought he was losing his mind. “What…”

  He didn’t think anything else.

  He felt the dart in his neck.

  The next thing he knew, he was lying back on the ground, that large Siberian Husky by his side…

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Holly wasn’t sure how long she’d been running, only that she could still barely feel her legs.

  She was cold. Colder than she’d ever felt. Shivering all over, shaking everywhere. Her head ached. Her neck ached. Her spine and her legs ached, and everythin
g ached.

  But she was still here.

  Just.

  But still here all the same.

  She looked over her shoulder. She couldn’t see Ian after her. But she could tell from the kind of guy he was that he wasn’t going to just give up. He’d want to see her dead. He’d want to find her body. He’d want to know her fate for certain.

  But it’d been a long while since she’d heard any trace of him now.

  So she could only keep on going and keep on hoping.

  She looked back again. She kept thinking she could see him chasing after her. She thought she hear things, too. Voices. Voices telling her she was evil, that she was the Devil, that she should give up and end it all.

  But she shrugged it off. She shook her head. She couldn’t believe those malicious lies of her own imagination.

  She could only keep on moving.

  She thought back to the horror of when she’d plunged underwater. The instant shock of the ice, taking the breath from her lungs almost immediately.

  She’d wanted to go back up to the surface. Instinct had kicked in, and she’d started climbing her way upwards.

  And then she’d seen the pipe.

  She didn’t know where it led. But she knew that if she rose, Ian would pick her off right away, so death was the only potential outcome if she lifted herself back in the direction of the way she’d plunged in.

  But that pipe.

  It was her last chance.

  It was her only hope.

  Even though her muscles had seized up, she forced herself to paddle over to it, to drag herself inside its dark, claustrophobic confines.

  She was running out of air. Losing breath.

  But she kept on going.

  Even though the pipe felt like it was constricting her and getting tighter, she kept on going.

  When she reached the end of it, her stomach sank.

  It was a dead end.

  There was no way out.

  She lost more of her breath. She looked back, thought about turning around, every survival instinct just screaming at her to get out of this mess.

  But then she pushed upwards. Something inside her forced her to do it. Something forced her to battle.

  She’d got hold of the side of the opening. Managed to push it aside. Then she’d emerged and gasped for air, dragging herself out of it.

 

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