Whispers in the Mist: Black Winter Book Three

by Coates, Darcy

  And then she heard Beth’s voice. It was full of fire and fear as she screamed, “I don’t know!”

  Dorran responded, his own voice rising in desperation. “Where did you last see her?”

  “I don’t know! I don’t know!”

  The cloud of terror lifted from Clare. She dragged in a giddy, disbelieving breath then pulled off the smothering mask and broke into a run to reach the bus. Before she could touch the door, it was thrown open.

  Dorran leapt from the bus, colliding with Clare. She would have been knocked to the ground if he hadn’t reflexively grasped her arms. He gaped at her, face pale and eyes wild.

  “Hi,” Clare hazarded.

  Shock flashed through his expression, closely followed by relief. His arms wrapped around her, holding her so fiercely that she struggled to breathe.

  “You’re all right. You’re all right!” He pulled back far enough to search her face. Hands patted over her, touching her arms, her neck, and her back. Then he was kissing anywhere he could reach, peppering her cheeks and forehead with affection.

  “Clare!” Beth had followed Dorran out of the bus, her own face pinched with worry. “Where did you go?”

  “Where did you go?” Clare retorted.

  Dorran moved back, allowing her a little more space, but kept one arm around her. He was shaking. Clare took his hand and squeezed it. If Beth had been harbouring any doubts about their relationship, it would be thoroughly gone by that point.

  Beth ran her hands over her face as she exhaled. “I split away from you outside the service station. He couldn’t chase two of us at the same time. I thought you’d understand to meet me back here. I just about had a heart attack when I realised you weren’t coming.”

  Clare let herself lean against Dorran as he held her possessively. Her heart hurt from the stress. “I couldn’t see you on the road. I was frightened you were trapped in the service station.”

  Horror flashed over Beth’s face. “You didn’t go back there, did you?”

  “I didn’t know what else to do.”

  Beth opened her mouth, clamped it down, and closed her eyes. When she looked up again, she had the anger under control. “Okay. That’s all right. You’re here now. You’re safe. Get into the bus. Let’s get onto the road before we tempt fate any longer.”

  Clare let Dorran guide her back into the vehicle. He fussed over her, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders and fastening her seatbelt for her. They took the seats closest to the driver’s compartment, and Beth watched them through the rearview mirror for a second before she put the bus into gear. Branches scraped over the vehicle’s sides as they pulled onto the road, and Beth navigated a tight U-turn to face them away from the town.

  Clare felt a tug of regret as the town disappeared behind them, vanishing into the mist and the trees. She blinked and saw the final scene from the service station again. The blood. The hollows. The feast. It was their fault the man was dead. He’d survived there for weeks and might have continued to survive if not for their invasion.

  We couldn’t have known. She could still see the scene on the backs of her eyelids. A dark part of her mind whispered, Better him than us.

  “What’s wrong, baby?”

  Clare realised she was still being watched through the rearview mirror. Beth wouldn’t know what had become of the man, and Clare didn’t feel it was right to put his final moments into her head. In some cases, ignorance truly was a blessing.

  She forced herself to smile. “I was just thinking. All of that effort, and we still couldn’t get a map.”

  “Don’t be so sure about that.” Beth flashed her a grin as she reached into the compartment beside the driver’s seat. She brought out a thick book-like object with a bright-yellow cover.

  Clare stared at it, stunned. “You—what—”

  “There was one near the front door. I managed to grab it on the way out.”

  “Beth, you’re amazing.”

  She laughed as she tucked the map back into its slot. “I know. Let’s get away from that damn town. We’ll have plenty of time to leaf through this thing once we’re somewhere more remote.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Clare tried to settle herself at Dorran’s side. She held the smile, but even though the map was a relief, it didn’t absolve the guilt. The innocuous yellow book had been bought with a high price.

  Beth seemed content, but Clare thought Dorran could feel some of her disquiet. He gently wrapped one arm around her back, holding her close, fingers tracing over her jacket’s stitching. He smiled whenever she looked up at him, but the lingering stress was still clear in his eyes.

  They drove until the woods turned back into fields. The sun, already distant and cold, drifted in and out from behind patchy clouds. Beth leaned forward in her seat, searching for a stopping point that met her standards. She’d evidently found one in a gently sloping hill that meandered down to a river. Tangling fig trees grew in clumps, their roots weaving above the earth like snakes. The ground was solid enough that the bus’s wheels didn’t chew it into a pulp as they navigated between the trees.

  Beth positioned the bus to be concealed between several large growths, then she sighed. “This will do for a while. Clare, did you want to sort something out for lunch? Dorran, get the chairs and cooker out of the hatch. I’ll be back in a minute.”

  Clare rose as Beth pulled an off-white bag out of one of the overhead compartments. “Where are you going?”

  “Just scoping around.” Beth adjusted her scarf around her neck.

  “You shouldn’t go alone.” Clare followed her to the door, earning herself a glare. “Remember last night? It’s too dangerous to split up.”

  A hint of warning entered Beth’s voice. “I’m not going far. I just want to clean up at the river.”

  “Then I’ll go with you.”

  “No. I need some space, okay?”

  As Beth turned away, her scarf swung. One loop slipped down, and Clare caught a glimpse of red. Her eyes trailed down Beth’s arm to the white bag she carried. A medical bag, clutched in a hand stained by fresh blood.

  Her heart flipped unpleasantly. “You’re hurt.”

  “I’m fine,” Beth said.

  Clare jogged after her, boots sinking into the wet grass as she reached a hand towards her sister. “Was it one of the hollows? What happened? Is it—”

  Beth swung back to face her, adjusting the scarf around her neck. “It’s none of your business. I’m dealing with it, so kindly do the job I gave you and stop pestering me.”

  Clare pressed her lips together. Her eyes were burning. She wouldn’t let herself cry. “Stop freezing me out. If we’re going to survive together, we have to talk.”

  Beth sighed then closed her eyes, resigned. “A bullet clipped me. I didn’t want to tell you, because it sounds much worse than it is.”

  The fear redoubled, clawing at her insides, filling her with ice. “Beth…”

  “It grazed my shoulder. Nothing life-threatening, I promise. The thanites will deal with it anyway, right?”

  “Doesn’t it hurt?”

  Beth laughed. “It sure does. But I’m dealing with it. Adrenaline’s a hell of a drug.”

  Clare took a step closer. “Let me help. I can wash it. Or—” She knew this was a risk but couldn’t stop herself. “Let Dorran take a look. He trained with a doctor. He’s really—”

  Beth lifted her hand, her expression cold. “Nope. I wasn’t lying. I’m in dire need of some space. If you want to help, get lunch. I’m hungry.”

  Clare took slow, deep breaths as Beth stalked towards the river. She was trying to calm her racing heart and ease the cold in her stomach. It didn’t help much. Slowly, she turned back towards the bus.

  Dorran had set up the seats and was firing up the cooker. His expression was calm, but there was a tightness about his lips that Clare recognised.

  “You heard that, huh?”

  He straightened and let the tightness spread to his eyes. “Oh, Clare�
��”

  “It’s fine.” She tried to smile. “Families argue sometimes, that’s all. We’re good.”

  He didn’t say anything, but he followed Clare into the bus as she went in search of food.

  Chapter Nine

  Clare picked an easy meal: pasta with sauce and a tin of tuna flaked through it. She cooked the food over the stove, keeping one eye on the tree line Beth had disappeared behind.

  She was bleeding enough for it to drip down her arm. It probably soaked into her jacket and scarf as well. I can’t believe I let her drive like that. I can’t believe she didn’t say anything.

  The pasta was cooked. Still, Beth hadn’t returned. Clare divided the food into three bowls, trying to keep her hands and mind busy. Still no Beth. She couldn’t eat and left her bowl on the dead grass as she began pacing. Dorran stood behind a chair, hands bracing its back, watching her. The awful, sad tightness remained around his eyes. She knew he would help if he could, but at that moment, his concern only made it worse.

  Movement came from behind the trees. Clare took a sharp breath then let it out as Beth stepped into view. Her sister still wore the jacket and scarf, but now a white bandage peeked through at her throat.

  “I’m great,” she said before Clare could speak. “Just hungry. Pass over my food.”

  Clare handed her sister a bowl. As she sank into one of the chairs, Beth nodded towards Dorran. “Get the map, would you? Now’s a good time to figure out where we’re going.”

  Dorran disappeared into the bus. When he returned, he carried the book close to his side, along with extra blankets to guard against the cold. The three of them scooted their chairs closer together, blankets around their shoulders, with Clare holding the map in the middle. Beth ate while she peered over Clare’s shoulder. Dorran remained quiet, but curiosity lit his eyes as Clare flipped to the map’s directory.

  The map was an old-fashioned model like Clare’s parents had used before mobile phones and sat-nav simplified travelling. Hundreds of pages each held a segment of the map, tiny numbers on their sides indicating which pages they connected with. Clare ran through the list of suburbs. She found Evandale and turned to page 273.

  As far as she could tell, it was a small suburb. Two main streets ran through it, with a couple of small side roads branching off. There was no sign of any kind of major research centre.

  “The map might be outdated,” Clare said. She had to fight to not sound defensive.

  Beth didn’t seem bothered. “Or the research station could be omitted for security reasons. Go to the overview map. I want to see how far away it is.”

  Clare flipped to the book’s start. A large map represented most of the country, with only the major roads visible. It was divided into a grid with a small number for each corresponding page. She found 273 then traced back to the largest mark on the map, the city they’d come out of.

  “Hmm.” Beth scratched the back of her neck. “Well, it could be worse.”

  Clare searched for other locations she knew in an attempt to get a sense of scale. “We might be able to make the trip in a single day—”

  “If the freeways were clear.” Beth tapped a finger on the map and traced it up to Evandale. “We’ll need to take the backroads. It’ll be slower but safer.”

  Beth was right. Freeways would be too much of a gamble. The rural tracks could be hit-and-miss as well, but at least they presented less chance of becoming cornered as hollow ones descended on them.

  Still, she hated seeing how much their path had to diverge from the freeway. Using the rural roads would bump the journey out to at least three days. The USB in her pocket felt like it weighed a ton.

  Beth thinks it’s wishful thinking. She thinks the USB won’t be able to change anything. But we have to try, don’t we?

  They washed their plates in the river then packed the equipment back into the bus. Beth resumed her place in the driver’s seat with Clare and Dorran sitting in the closest row of chairs. Clare held the map, leafing through pages as they crossed the countryside.

  At first, they talked. Clare answered Beth’s questions about the time she’d spent at Helexis Tower. Clare tried to ask her own questions about Beth’s journey, but her sister was quick to change the subject back to Clare’s encounters.

  The road led them through a hilly region around the mountains’ foothills. As a bridge between two major towns, it was dotted with vehicles. They passed vans, cars, and even a taxi. Most of the vehicles had either parked off the side of the road or been pushed there by other travellers. Most looked as though they had been looted. Some had doors and trunks hanging open; others had windows smashed and tyres removed.

  As they skirted around the mountains, Clare caught sight of motion in the distance. She leaned forward and squinted. “Is that someone else driving towards us?”

  “Yep,” Beth said. Her face was emotionless.

  “Should we—”

  “We’re going to pass them by. We don’t need anything from them, and I won’t let them take anything from us.”

  Clare chewed her lip as she settled back in her seat. The car, a silver sedan, was smaller than their vehicle, and scratches along its sides told her it had been through hollow-heavy areas. It slowed as it neared them but didn’t try to stop. Beth kept her bus on one side of the road, the stranger moved to the other side, and they passed.

  Clare craned to see the occupants. The glimpse lasted no longer than a second, but the image froze in her mind like a snapshot. A man drove. His stubble was developing into a beard, and a healing cut ran through one of his eyebrows. He gave a small nod of acknowledgement as he passed them. In the passenger’s seat was what looked like a hiking backpack—his, or taken from someone less lucky, Clare couldn’t guess. Two children slept in the back seat. They couldn’t have been older than six. The younger girl had a bloody patch fastened over her eye.

  Something small, golden, and shiny had been suspended from the rearview mirror by a ribbon. Clare’s mind blanked on what it might be. As the stranger’s car disappeared behind them, she finally made the connection. A wedding ring.

  Who are they? And where are they going? Maybe they had been camping when the stillness hit. Maybe the father was now driving, searching everywhere, desperate for a place that would be safe enough for his children. Somewhere they wouldn’t be hurt again.

  “Focus, Clare,” Beth called.

  She jolted and quickly flipped through the map to follow their path.

  The afternoon hours passed peacefully. Their path inevitably carried them through towns. Clare had been careful to direct them towards smaller hamlets, and the caution paid off. The streets were wide and relatively clear of debris. Beth kept the car at a steady speed as she passed through. Shapes moved around the buildings, but they passed through the towns before anything could try to slink into the light.

  Dorran fell asleep leaned against the window. Clare rose as quietly as she could to fetch a blanket from the overhead compartments then draped it over him. Beth had turned the heater off before lunch, and the bus was nowhere near as warm as it could have been. Dorran shifted, eyebrows pulling together, then relaxed again.

  “Hey,” Clare whispered, approaching Beth’s side. “Did you want to swap over? You must be tired too.”

  “Clare, I love you, but if I gave you the wheel, there is no way in hell I could sleep.” Beth flashed her a smile.

  Clare ignored the jab. “Isn’t your arm hurting?”

  “Yeah. And it’ll hurt whether I sit here or sit back there.” Beth drove one-handed, leaning her right arm on the armrest. “At least this way, I have something to keep my mind busy. Ish.”

  The road ahead was straight, clear, and entirely void of stimulus. Empty brown fields bridged either side, with grey mountains rising on their left. Clare thought she would be at risk of nodding off if she had to stare at it for as long as Beth had.

  But as she settled back at Dorran’s side, she realised Beth wasn’t driving passively. Her sister�
�s eyes were constantly roving, moving over the mirrors, across the fields to either side, and scanning the road ahead.

  Clare suddenly understood what she’d meant about not being able to sleep. She wasn’t just driving; she was on watch, at high alert, constantly looking for threats. And she couldn’t stop.

  The dashboard read nearly three in the afternoon by the time the first fleck of sleet hit the windshield. Clare had gotten used to how cold the bus was, and wrapped in layers of jackets and insulated boots, she had barely felt the shift in temperature. But as she sleepily blinked at the view, she realised the world was changing around them.

  The mountains had been grey just hours before. Somehow, without her even noticing, their caps were starting to turn white. The sky had taken on a bitter shade of slate. Lightning crackled across the horizon. Clare sat up in her seat, suddenly intent. “Beth.”

  “Yeah. I see it.” Beth didn’t change their speed. Her face remained as expressionless as before.

  “Do you have a plan for what we’ll do if it starts to snow?”

  “Of course. We’ll look for somewhere to bunk down. A shed, probably.”

  “Can’t we pull over and stay in the bus?”

  “Not without risking carbon monoxide poisoning, which is what we’d be facing if the snow coated us. We need proper shelter.”

  Clare’s anxiety returned with a vengeance. She joined her sister in watching their surroundings, alternately staring at the windshield ahead, peering through the gaps around the windows to either side, and eyeing the clock. The sun was failing quickly. As the last rays battled through the clouds, the snowstorm descended on them.

  The bus didn’t have snow tyres. Beth drove well, but she could only mitigate the slipping, not stop it entirely. Clare clutched the edges of her seat. Abruptly, the bus lurched off the road and into a field. Clare gasped.

  “Relax.” Beth’s voice was just as calm as ever. “There’s a building up ahead. We’ll stay there.”

  Clare had to fight to see through the snow. Ahead, a blocky structure emerged from the blur of white. A farmhouse, she guessed. The windows were dark, and no smoke rose from the chimney, but the structure, positioned between several old oak trees, at least seemed intact. She prayed it would be uninhabited.