The Elf

by Max Dune

Doc nods. “Yes, we’re aware of that. That’s why our guards went after him. Frost may very well have the antidote, and—”

  He’s cut off by Pluto’s sudden, loud thrashing. His bed shakes violently, and for a moment, I think he might fall off. Doc Billings rushes over and tries to sedate the elf but all he can do is hold Pluto down as his seizure grows more violent.

  “Come help me!” the doctor cries, looking back over his shoulder at us. Zeb and I jump into action and help to hold Pluto down, watching helplessly as he turns purple, starts bleeding from his ears, nose, eyes and mouth. His breath comes out in high-pitched wheezes, and his eyes dart in a wild panic. As if he knows what’s happening, as if he knows that his time is up.

  His hand shoots out and grabs my arm. “Help—help me,” he desperately begs in a hoarse whisper. “Help...”

  I try to speak but come up empty. What can I possibly do? What words could I muster right now to comfort him? To make him believe the lie that he’s going to be okay, that he’s not going to die in this cold, sterile hospital ward?

  It doesn’t matter. He dies in silence.

  No wise words.

  No touching speeches.

  After one last, shuddering breath, Pluto falls back. His body begins to collapse and disintegrate. From inside, he starts to glow, bright green, from beneath his dissolving skin. It’s kind of beautiful, the way it happens—almost magical even. Still, the wonder of his body fading into motes of glowing dust doesn’t diminish the actual horror of what it means.

  I stare at the empty bed for a long time. As if Pluto will somehow reappear if I stare long enough. Return to the land of the living. It’s only when the intercom buzzes that I snap out of the spell.

  The robotic voice sounds calm as ever. “Code Blue is now in effect. All elves please report to the auditorium. Santa will be speaking shortly. Thank you.”

  “You two better go,” Doc says quietly. “I’ll update you if there’s any change in Chance’s condition.”

  Both Zeb and I respond with slow, numb nods, then turn and leave. There’s nothing else we can do here.

  Chapter Four

  Zeb and I sit near the front row, surrounded by all our elf brethren. The place is packed. I search through the more than 1,000 of them, but I don’t see Lily anywhere. I assume she must be looking for me, too, anxious to hear about Chance. I sigh to myself, dreading that inevitable conversation. How am I going to break the news to her without making her cry?

  Suddenly Santa enters and makes his way to the podium. No, it isn’t a meek, jolly old man who appears onstage before us; that is yet another misconception. Santa boasts a Herculean physique—tall stature, abounding in power, and more than capable. Yes, he’s got a big, white beard, but that somehow just adds to his gravitas. Just by entering the hall, he sends jolts of electricity into the air, and every atom in the room seems to zip toward him. Yet his appearance is only partly responsible for this effect. It goes deeper than that; he has a commanding presence about him, this air of fatherly trustworthiness that is unquestionable.

  As one, the group instinctively turns toward him, taking in the aura that seems to engulf him, that prowess that makes him the one person we would ever want to lead us in any crisis or situation.

  Zeb, excited once again, elbows me. “Dude, it’s him!”

  I simply nod. I’m unable to do anything else as I gawk at the revered figure before us.

  “Greetings, my dear elves,” Santa begins, his strong voice carrying a twinge of sorrow. “As I’m sure everyone knows, we were attacked by Jack Frost this morning. Fortunately, no elves were seriously injured or lost during the ordeal. There was only damage to some buildings. Material structures that can be replaced, unlike you, my beloved family.”

  Around me, elves smile faintly, tearing up by Santa’s words.

  He continues, his tone growing harder, more steadfast. He continues, his tone growing harder. “For the past year, Frost has brought death and destruction to our merry village. He wants nothing more than to destroy us...and Christmas itself. I don’t know why he has allowed such darkness to enter his heart or why he insists on committing these evil, heinous acts, but there is one thing I do know.” Santa extends his hand and points at the crowd. A primeval power fills his voice, giving me goosebumps as he booms out, “Frost will not win! Christmas shall never be destroyed! Our spirit, our cheer will burn brighter than the North Star, from now until the end of time!”

  The crowd around me soaks in Santa’s conviction. Many stand, cheer, and clap in response to his resolution of hope.

  Even Zeb fans his eyes, tearing up. “Holy crap. He should write Hallmark cards. That was beautiful.”

  “Uh-huh,” I say, watching Santa as the guards escort him away.

  While I appreciate the assurance, there is something else I need. Which is why I do something that’s very uncharacteristic of me. I rush toward the exit door Santa is being led to, shoving past elves on the way, fueled by a crazy shot of adrenaline. When I reach the big guy himself, a guard put his hands up to prevent me from going any farther. But I don’t let that deter me. “Santa!” I call loudly. “Excuse me, but can I ask a quick question?”

  The guard shushes me. “Not now! He’s busy.”

  Santa, on the other hand, seems fine with speaking to me and gently waves the guard off. “No, no, it’s okay. Please, Lucian, what is your question?” He appears genuinely concerned about what I have to say, and it’s nice that he knows my name. I suppress the nervousness prickling my stomach and force the words before I chicken out. I clear my throat and say, “I was just wondering if, uh...if we’ve found Frost yet.”

  He grimaces angrily. “No, but we won’t stop looking until we do.”

  “Oh, okay,” I murmur, losing my pluck. “I’m sorry to have bothered you...”

  The fiercely protective guard steps between us again. “We must go now,” he tells Santa before giving me a disapproving stare.

  Santa continues watching me though, and then reaches down to give my shoulders a comforting squeeze, and action that takes me by surprise. I look up into his empathetic gaze, and lose myself in his deep gray eyes.

  “I understand your pain,” his voice reverberates through me. “I do. Remember, the same virus that took your parents also took my wife.” Indeed, his wife died shortly before my parents. Everyone’s still reeling from Mrs. Claus’ death; we thought Frost only wished us harm. Yet his murderous desires showed no prejudice. Frost wants us all dead. Elf or not.

  “We will find Jack Frost. I promise, Lucian.”

  “I know,” I hear myself say, though I have trouble believing it. “Thank you.”

  He nods. “Of course. Stay cheerful, Lucian.”

  “Stay cheerful, Santa,” I parrot.

  Santa is then whisked away by the guards, leaving me to deal with incredulous stares from all nearby elves. I understand why. What I did—approaching Santa so boldly—just doesn’t happen. He’s usually the one who approaches us, while we maintain a respectful distance.

  Before I know it, Zeb is standing beside me, talking a million miles a minute. “Oh my gosh! You talked to Santa! What did he say? What does he smell like? Did he ask about me? Come on! Tell me, man!”

  I groan. “Calm down, will ya?” I reply sharply, pulling myself out of whatever daze I was in. “We just talked about Jack. They’re still looking for him.”

  “Oh. So that was all?” Zeb asks.

  “Yeah, nothing scandalous or juicy. Sorry.”

  He makes a disgusted sound. “Ugh! Another wasted opportunity! I’m going to unfriend you.”

  “Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” I respond drily.

  “Shut up. I am loveable.”

  “You’re a lot of things that start with L.”

  Another announcement blasts through the intercom: “All codes have been cleared. All elves, please report to your work stations and resume normal duties. Thank you.”

  I sigh, jolted back to reality. “Guess I’ll se
e you later,” I tell Zeb, then work my way out of the auditorium.

  I walk briskly across the village to the barn, covering my nose as I pass through the clouds of acrid smoke floating around the craters where Frost’s bombs detonated. Guards are congregated around those areas, covering shattered windows with tarps. Surrounding excavators shout orders as they clear rubble.

  Thank goodness the barn stayed intact, I reflect as I enter the vast wooden building that has been my workplace for the past few months. Apart from the woods surrounding the village, this is my favorite place to be. It has a lot to do with the smell. That aromatic fragrance seems especially amplified today: a mixture of sweat, lumber, dust, sweet hay, and reindeer musk. Most of my friends find it repulsive, but I’ve grown to enjoy the earthy aroma. This place smells alive, and after all the death we’ve been privy to, that is a sweet relief.

  It also brings back memories of my parents’ nursery back in Virginia. I joined the family business very young. 12 years old and there I was, shoveling organic compost, hauling potted flowers, and transforming tons of wood chips into dark, rich soil with a grin on my face. For a very long time, their business flourished, allowing my whole family to spend time together. Until the recession hit and my parents were forced to move on. Still, I’ll never forget those times.

  “Ready to haul some wood?” I ask, entering my co-worker’s stall.

  Blitzen happily trots over, snorts, and gives my face a lick.

  I chuckle as I wipe the slime off my cheek. “Missed me, huh, boy?” I wrap my arms around the reindeer’s thick neck, nuzzling against his soft fur. “Yeah, me too.”

  “Ahem...”

  I whirl around, my eyes wide with surprise.

  “Lily! What are you doing here?” I say.

  She walks over to me, smirking. “I just wanted to see you real quick. Sorry if I interrupted anything.”

  “Ha! No, Blitzen’s not really my type. He’s too tall.” I pat the 500-pound animal’s bulging belly. “And a little on the curvy side for me.”

  “Lucky for me,” she says, wrapping her arms around my waist, pulling me into her warm embrace. Her expression turns serious though. “What’s going on with Chance?” she asks.

  I hesitate, wondering how I should answer, and I decide the best course of action is to tell her the truth. “The doctor’s not optimistic.”

  I don’t need to elaborate, and she doesn’t ask me to. We both know being infected comes with an automatic death sentence. We continue holding each other for a long moment, silently comforting one another in our mutual worry for our friend.

  Lily loosens her embrace and pulls back to meet my gaze. “Right,” she says with a heavy sigh. “Well, just...be careful out there today, okay?”

  “Always,” I tell her.

  She raises her hand to gently caress my cheek, making all my senses come alive. Her green eyes meet mine, and my chest feels like it’s going to explode. Then without warning, her hand trembles rapidly, shaking against the skin on my face. She drops it at once and shoves it in her jacket pocket. But it’s too late. I know the truth. Time stops, and everything fades away: the village, the virus, my depression, and even my grief. All is erased. I’m left alone in the dark, feeling my soul grow dimmer and dimmer.

  “Lucian? Lucian!”

  I hear Lily’s voice again, but she sounds miles away, and I can’t seem to muster a response from wherever I am.

  Suddenly she shakes me forcefully, snapping me out of my daze.

  I blink twice, and she comes into focus. I speak in a hushed tone. “You... Lily, you have it, don’t you?”

  “Yes,” she says in an even tone, trying not to alarm me even more. “It’s just a little trembling here and there, though. It only started recently. Please don’t freak out, okay? I’m fine. Really,” she explains calmly.

  I desperately struggle to hide the panic, to keep the horror from spreading across my face, to avoid shaking myself. I squeeze her arms and look directly into her eyes. “No, you’re not fine, Lily. You need to see the doctor.”

  “What can he possibly do?” Lily asks. “Tell me to take a few days off? Prescribe some useless medication, with side effects worse than the sickness itself? It won’t do any good. You know that.”

  “But—”

  Lily lifts her fingers to my lips. “The best thing I can do is keep working. Think about all those kids who will be left without toys, without joy if I quit now. Christmas is almost here. After that, I promise to see the doctor, but for now, Lucian... Well, you just have to let me live my life. I need to do this, to give them a Christmas this time, just in case...” she says, then trails off, unable to speak the words.

  I have no idea what to say, so I just take her into my arms. My voice wavers when I finally speak. “If that’s what you want.”

  “Thank you.” And with a quick kiss, she leaves.

  Still reeling from bombshell Lily has dropped on me, I lean against the stall door. I’m shaking. I can barely control my breathing. How could this have happened? How could Lily be infected? The only person left in this world that I love, that I can’t live without? I refuse to accept it. I can’t lose her. As anger sizzles inside me, my thoughts switch to Jack Frost. This is all his fault! Murderous, dark thoughts fill my mind. I clench my fists as the rage builds deep within, yet on the outside, I somehow feel myself growing completely numb.

  In the distance, I hear the rumbling of snowmobiles. The guards. Have they returned already? Taking a gander outside, I see they have. Without even thinking, I make a beeline towards the approaching vehicles, running wildly over and through the low drifts. I notice a few dark red stains on my way. They must be from Frost.

  Seeing my flailing arms in the air, the men stop their machines.

  I hurry over and address Oleg. “Did you find Frost?”

  He scowls at me. “No,” he says. “But it’s safe to assume he’s dead.”

  “Safe to assume? How can you know for sure?” I counter.

  He gestures at the red streaks on the snow between us and the village. “Look at the blood he lost,” he says flatly. “No man can loose that much blood and live. If he is still alive, he can’t possibly have that long. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He tilts his head, signaling me to get out of the way.

  I just stand there, dumbfounded. How can he just brush it off? Doesn’t he realize what’s at stake, what we—what I—have to lose? A deep fury overtakes me, and something inside me snaps. “No!” I shout angrily. “Frost is still out there. You have to keep searching!”

  The guards freeze, and their mouths drop open. Obviously, no one has ever dared to speak to their boss like that before.

  The next thing I know, Oleg is jumping off his snowmobile and marching toward me. He grabs me by the collar and lifts me up off the ground. “I don’t take orders from you, boy,” he growls into my face before he gives me a firm shove that sends me reeling onto my back. I hit the ground so hard my breath is knocked out of me, leaving me gasping for air, choking, and wheezing pathetically.

  So much for my display of manliness.

  He hisses down at me. “Next time, I’ll rip your jaw right outta your skull.”

  I lie on the snow, helplessly watching as Oleg mounts his snowmobile. The guards chuckle to themselves, entertained by our confrontation. After one last deadly glance from Oleg, they all rumble away, and their snowmobile belch thick black clouds of exhaust in their wake.

  It takes me a while to catch my breath. When I’m finally able to stand, I turn to gaze back at the village. I can’t believe they’re just going to give up. Our lives hang in the balance, and these cowards can’t be bothered to search for more than a few hours? Images of Pluto’s death fill my mind, and his last spoken words, his desperate plea, echoes in my mind: “Help me...”

  I glare at the guards as they park their snowmobiles, then resume their regular patrols of our village. Well, if they’re not going to do anything, I will! I just need a few things first, I think as I sprint b
ack to the dorms. In my room, I quickly grab the crossbow Zeb was playing with earlier. I strap it to my back, then snatch up the quiver. I count five arrows in it. That should be enough, but I pack a few more for good measure. I also take Zeb’s secret stash of candy bars from his dresser drawer, hidden under a pile of comic books. I slink back to the barn, scooping a handful of red snow along the way.

  It doesn’t take long to prepare the sleigh. Most of my work tools are already packed in the duffle bag I throw onboard: flashlight, cooking gear, goggles, ax, rope, chainsaw, and gas. Of course, I’ll be using the last four for a different purpose now.

  Before I go, I leave a message in plain sight, right there on the barn door. It’s likely that only one person will understand it, but that’s all that matters.

  I whistle at Blitzen. “Come here, boy.”

  As he nears, I pull out some agaric mushrooms, the equivalent of crack for reindeer.

  Blitzen gives a joyous little hop in anticipation.

  “Yeah, your favorite.” I hold some bloody snow up to his nose and let him take a good whiff. “Find him and I’ll give you some of these mushrooms every day for the rest of your life.” I hop into the sleigh, then ask, “Deal?”

  Blitzen seems to understand, because he shoots out of the barn like a rocket.

  He knows some deals are too good to pass up. I smile as we glide over the soft snow, following the bloody trail Frost left behind. I know I will probably get fired for this. What I’m doing is against all the rules and regulations. Still, at this moment, I couldn’t care any less. All that matters is my mission: to track down Jack Frost, wherever he’s hiding; get the cure for Lily, whatever it takes; then kill him, however I can.

  Chapter Five

  We follow the blood trail for what seems like hours. It leads us east, into treacherous territory. From day one, we’ve all been forbidden to venture there, into the open tundra, but I have no choice now. Oleg and his guards won’t do it, so I’ll have to.

  During orientation week, we were repeatedly warned about the hidden dangers of this place: polar bears, snow blindness, sudden deep freezes that choke the breath right out of an elf, and crevasses that open up underfoot, seemingly out of nowhere.