Dark Winter Series (Book 1): Dark Winter

by Fernfield, Rebecca

  Another dog, closer this time, joined the barking.

  “Apart from the howling dogs, you mean?” Jake laughed.

  “Not them,” Aaron explained. “There’s no engines. No cars, or lorries. There’s always the noise of them, even at night.”

  Gregor grunted, throwing down his spent cigarette. Its tip sparked and glowed orange against the snow but quickly blackened. “I can hear engine,” he contradicted holding up a hand for silence. Through the barking came the distinctive thrum of an engine.

  “Okay then, not many engines,” Aaron conceded.

  “That is good. It means cars are working again.”

  “Perhaps we don’t need to go into town then,” Callum offered. “If the cars are working, the electrics will come back on, and it’ll all go back to normal.”

  “No, we go as planned,” Gregor responded.

  Overhead, the stars sat as bright silver pinpricks stabbed through a raven-inked cloth.

  “I ain’t never seen so many stars,” Jake said taking another drag of his cigarette. Smoke billowed around his head, joining the cloud of white breath dancing into the dark night.

  From ahead, and unseen, came the chatter of men’s voices. The sound grew until a group of teenagers appeared in a huddle beneath an unlit streetlight. Improvised lamps made from glass jars had been placed along the wall, the flame from their candles shining like bright fireflies. The distinctive aroma of burning marijuana hovered in the air, carried in the cloud of smoke that surrounded them. Hoodies up, each figure resembled the next, but Callum recognised the tallest boy as Troy Towle, a regular visitor to 12 Lovett Street. As they approached, the gang grew quiet, each turning to stare. Torchlight blinded Callum as a beam was aimed straight into his face. It hit Gregor’s face too.

  Gregor growled. “Get light out of my face!”

  “That you Towle?” Callum called.

  “Who’s asking?”

  “Towle?” Callum repeated with an edge to his voice.

  “Get light out of my face!” Gregor repeated, the anger in his voice growing steelier.

  “Move the fucking light!” Callum insisted, arm up to obscure the dazzling beam.

  “That you, Manchester?”

  “Yeah,” Callum’s reply was surly, fuelled by the rising tension; going anywhere with Gregor was like walking on a knife edge.

  The light dropped to knee height. “What’s up, bruv?”

  Both men clasped hands in greeting.

  “We was just coming to number twelve.”

  “Yeah? What you wanting?”

  Without lowering his voice, the teenager returned with, “What you got?”

  “I ain’t got nothing on me, bruv. Go to the house, Toadie will see you right.”

  “Who you with?” It was at this point that Towle made his mistake. Curious, he shone the light at the other men. Without any warning, Gregor lunged forward, grabbing the front of Troy Towle’s jacket, twisting the fabric tight, pressing it up to his gullet. Towle began to choke.

  “I said, get light out of my face!”

  The teenager spluttered, realising his mistake. “Sorry!” he managed. “Sorry, mate. I din’t mean nothing.”

  “I ... am not your mate!” Gregor spat, his top lip curling back into a sneer. “Take care of it, Jake.”

  “Shit!” Callum muttered.

  With immediate response, Jake threw the weedy teenager against the streetlight. The side of his head smacked against the metal pillar. The other boys hovered, looking riled, but only stepped outwards and away from their friend, breaking rank. Callum watched the scene unfold, unwilling to intervene; Troy had been warned, and had to take his punishment. Jake slammed an open hand around Troy’s throat, leaning in only inches from his spluttering face. “You was told, shank! You was told not to shine the light in his eyes. You do it again, shank, and I’ll stab your eyes out.” Metal snapped and a flash of silver shone in the moonlight, the blade glimmering only inches from Troy’s face. Gregor stepped in, taking hold of the knife, and pressed it against the boy’s temple. A droplet of dark blood trickled against pale skin.

  “Sorry! I’m sorry! I won’t do it again!” Troy sputtered. “Sorry, mate. Sorry!”

  “Here is gift for you to remember this moment,” Gregor twisted the blade and began to carve the boy’s temple. Troy squealed. “Now you will see this each day and know that you live only because I give permission.” Troy stared out with startled eyes as Gregor continued to work with the knife. “Now I have target to aim for, next time you disobey me.” Standing back, he admired his work as blood seeped from the ‘X’ carved into Troy’s flesh.

  Jake removed his hand from around the boy’s throat. Released, the teen staggered sideways, his knees buckling.

  “Go to twelve Lovett,” Callum said as the boys re-grouped. “Toadie’s got plenty of smack.”

  “Now, piss off,” Jake shouted as they turned to run, “Or we’ll charge you double.” Troy stumbled, slipping in the snow and Jake followed his threat with an intimidating lunge.

  Several minutes passed as Gregor strode ahead with Jake. Callum and Aaron kept pace several steps behind.

  “That was a bit harsh,” Aaron said.

  Callum didn’t respond to Aaron’s comment, only too aware of just how Gregor took any criticism of his actions.

  Overhearing the comment, Gregor snorted. “I told you. Only the strong will survive. They have to know who is boss.”

  “Sure, but he only shone his light at you.”

  Gregor turned, shining his own light into Aaron’s face, grabbing his chin with iron fingers. “You challenge me, shit face?” Barely suppressed rage laced Gregor’s voice.

  Aaron stood stock still, making no effort to pull his chin away, despite the pain that had to be drilling into his jawbone. “No!” He forced the reply through lips pinched by Gregor’s clutching fingers.

  “Good, or you will have big problem with me ... Come!” Gregor commanded. “We have work to do.”

  The next thirty minutes were spent walking in silence as they made their way through the crisscross of streets towards the supermarket where Gregor had insisted they go to ‘stock up on essential things’. Gregor had drawn up a list of these essential items and the plan had been to fill trolleys with everything they wanted, then find a car to bring it back to the house. Gregor was certain that he would be able to hotwire an older car. However, as they walked through the snow, it was obvious that the plan would fail; even if they did manage to find a car and get its engine running, the roads were blocked with stalled and abandoned vehicles, some obviously involved in collisions.

  “We should come back for these cars,” Aaron said.

  “And do what?”

  “Check them over for money, CDs, Satnavs-”

  “What you think we are, idiot?” Gregor spat with disdain. “Druggies desperate for cash to pay for fix?”

  “No ... but-”

  “No buts. I am not pathetic, sneaking car thief.”

  “Nah? But you’re off to rob a shop.”

  Without warning, Gregor made a quick twist, lifting his leg to belly height, and slammed his boot into Aaron’s stomach. Grunting in surprise and pain, Aaron staggered back with the force. As he bent double, Gregor landed another kick, this time against the man’s cheek. Another heavy kick landed on his buttocks as Aaron fell to the ground. As Gregor’s boot rose to stamp on the man’s head, Callum grabbed his bicep. “Come on, Gregor,” he said. “We’re wasting time.” Ignoring him, Gregor kicked the man, his boot landing in the soft flesh of his groin. “It’ll all be gone ...” Callum continued, hoping to appeal to Gregor’s survival instinct, “if they get there before us.” The leg poised to kick again dropped to the floor. Aaron shuffled away, blood already flowing from his nose.

  “No one calls me thief.”

  “Of course not, Gregor, but if we don’t take the stuff that we need then someone else will.”

  “We need it to survive.”

  “That’s
right,” Callum placated. “Let’s go then.”

  “Aaron, you are piece of snivelling shit,” Gregor called to the man laid in a tight foetal curl on the road. “If I see you again, I kill you.”

  “You’re cutting him out?” Callum asked in surprise.

  “He will be first to stab me in back when things get tough.”

  “Perhaps they won’t get tough, Gregor.”

  “Perhaps, but I have seen too much to take a chance. We get ready tonight, and get more supplies tomorrow, and the next day, and the next, until we can take care of ourselves, and everyone is in fear of Gregor and Frostie. Yes?”

  A moment’s hesitation then, “Yes.” If things were going to descend into some sort of Mad Max-esque pit of hell, then Callum wanted Gregor beside him, even if he was a raving psychopath, and perhaps because he was just that.

  “Get moving then, we have much work to do.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  As Callum, Jake, and Gregor continued into the town, Anna and Jem sat in awkward discomfort at the house. Not only was the temperature dropping, but the only light, apart from that reflected in the snow from the moon, was the flicker of the gas flame from Toadie’s lighter when he lit a joint or cigarette. The air was thick with smoke.

  Anna’s breath blew white as she exhaled. Beside her, Jem had fallen asleep although she coughed as a massive cloud of vape smoke wafted from Shannon’s mouth and nose. She sat like a venomous dragon curled on the other end of the sofa. Wafting at the smoke, Anna asked, “Do you think you could do that somewhere else?” Jem coughed again and began to wake. “I think my sister’s allergic to it or something.”

  Shannon threw Anna a venomous sideways glance from beneath thick false lashes, inhaled from the metallic pink vape stick and blew an enormous, spiteful cloud into the centre of the room. “Gregor’s house, Gregor’s rules, and he says I can smoke in here.”

  Toadie made a snorting laugh.

  “Where are you two gonna sleep, anyway?” Shannon asked changing the subject. “There ain’t no space upstairs. Why are you even still here?”

  “I wanted to go home,” Anna replied, “but Gregor said it wasn’t safe for us and we should stay. I don’t know where we’re supposed to sleep.”

  “In his bed,” Toadie snorted.

  Shannon riled, and without warning threw the vape stick with an angry jerk of her arm. It bounced from Toadie’s forehead and clattered on the coffee table, knocking an empty beer can onto the floor. He yelped in surprise. “What the fu-”

  “I’m the only one who sleeps with Gregor!” Shannon screamed, already on her feet, unsteady, her body thrown forward on high heels.

  Horrified at Toadie’s suggestion and the resulting rage from Shannon, Anna sank back into the sofa. “I’m not ... I don’t want to sleep in his bed-”

  Her words were ignored as Toadie rounded on Shannon. “Vicious bitch!” He seethed and reached for the vape, throwing it back across the room with force. It hit Shannon on the side of the head and dropped to the floor. She growled as Toadie huffed with the effort of movement, sitting his heavy frame forward in the chair, becoming the fat and scowling toad his nickname suggested. “You know what he’s like, Shannon,” he sneered. “Gregor’s house. Gregor’s rules,” he mimicked. “And if he wants Anna, he’ll take her to his bed,” he added with spite. The woman’s face became thunderous and she rocked back on her heels staring at Toadie and then Anna with a poisonous scowl. For a moment, Anna feared an attack, but she only made another angry growl before turning on her heels and leaving the room then stamping upstairs. When a bedroom door slammed, Toadie said, “Nasty bitch, that one. No wonder she’s his punchbag.”

  “I would never sleep with him!” Anna said, mortified at Toadie’s coarse suggestion.

  “You all do,” Toadie grunted. “In the end.”

  A cold shiver ran through Anna’s body that had nothing to do with the temperature.

  “It’s cold in here,” Toadie grumbled. “I’m going to sleep.” He pulled the duvet up to his chin and slumped back in the armchair. Within minutes his breathing eased, and he snorted softly.

  Unable to sleep, Anna soothed Jem back to sleep, reassuring her that everything was alright, and pulled the blanket over her shoulder, thankful that they could at least warm one another. Time seemed to drag, and the minutes passed slowly, until, despite the cold, she began to fall into sleep.

  A knock at the door startled her awake. Toadie made a dissatisfied grunt, peered through the net curtain, and rapped at the window. Light from a torch shone in his face as he said, “Wait a minute,” through the glass.

  As Toadie opened the front door, Jem leapt up, peering through the curtains. Anna joined her, curious to see the visitor. At the door, three figures stood on the path, faces hidden by hoods pulled up against the cold. Each wore trainers and, despite the cold, only an oversized hoody and sloppy jogging bottoms. In turn, each stepped forward, holding out notes in return for a packet. “He’s selling drugs!” Jem whispered as she peered through the lace nets. “Like that man did near the park.”

  Anna made no comment but hissed at her sister to come back to the sofa as the men left and Toadie closed the door. “Don’t say anything,” she urged as they sat back down, hurriedly pulling at the blanket. “Go back to sleep!”

  “He’s a druggie,” Jem whispered just before Toadie returned to the room.

  As he returned to his seat, Toadie pushed a handful of notes into his back pocket. Anna quickly looked away as he caught her watching. “Just doing a bit of business,” he said with a tight smile.

  “What business?” Jem asked.

  “Shh!” Anna reprimanded. “Go back to sleep.”

  “My business,” he returned, tapping the side of his nose, then slumped back down in the chair, his roll of belly fat expanding around his middle to form a tyre.

  Minutes passed in uncomfortable silence and the room seemed to become even colder. Jem shivered, pulling at the blanket and pushing up against Anna. “Why can’t we go home, Anna?”

  “We can go back tomorrow. I can find a hotel-”

  “No, not a hotel. Our house.”

  Anna nudged Jem whilst casting a glance at Toadie. “You know why,” she whispered.

  “But I want to go home!”

  “We’ll leave as soon as it’s light,” Anna placated. “It’s too dark now.”

  “But I want to go now!” Jem said, flinging the blanket to the floor and standing to face Anna.

  “Sit down, Jem,” Toadie said from the shadows. “Your sister’s right, it’s too late to go anywhere.”

  “Anna!” Jem insisted. “Come on. I don’t want to stay ... here.” The last word was spoken in a disgusted whisper.

  “Jem, I ...” With Toadie’s grotesque suggestion that Gregor wanted to take her to bed, combined with his constant smoking of weed, and the drug deal that had just gone down on the doorstep, Anna knew that her sister shouldn’t be in a place like this, that Social Services would be justified in taking her away, but what was the alternative? It was freezing outside. They had nowhere to go. No food. No money.

  “Please, Anna. Can we go home? Just for one night?”

  One night. She considered the option. The spare key to the house would still be under the bin in the back garden, and maybe the landlord hadn’t found a new tenant yet. There was food and warm bedding there too—if it hadn’t been cleared out. Jem was right. They could spend one night there. “Okay, Jem. We’ll go.”

  “Yes!” Jem fist pumped the air.

  As Anna stood to leave, Toadie, with uncharacteristic speed and agility, jumped from his chair and moved across the room. “Gregor said he’d take you home tomorrow,” he stated, “so that’s what’s happening.”

  “No, it’s okay,” Anna said, perturbed by his sudden animation. “We can walk on our own.”

  As she took hold of Jem’s hand, and made for the door, Toadie blocked it.

  “Hey!” Jem shouted. “Let us out!”

&
nbsp; He maintained his focus on Anna. “Sit back down. Gregor said he’ll walk you home tomorrow.”

  “Why does that mean I can’t take myself home tonight?” Anna asked, her heart pounding. The small room suddenly seemed even smaller.

  “Gregor’s house, Gregor’s rules,” he repeated the mantra.

  This wasn’t happening! “You’re kidding, right?” she said pushing at the flabby man to move.

  “Tell him to get out of the way, Anna!” Jem demanded. “Let us out!”

  Only inches from Toadie’s face, heart pounding, she drew on every ounce of nerve and stared the man down. Surely, if he saw that she was adamant to leave, he would let her go. “Let ... me ... out,” she said with an edge of anger, desperate to keep the panic that was beginning to swirl in her belly from becoming a tremble in her voice.

  Like a wide and hefty monolith, Toadie made no effort to move. Anna gripped his sleeve and pulled, but her efforts were no match for his weight and firm stance. She made another effort to pull, and although he swayed slightly, he remained in place. “Like I said, Gregor’s house, Gregor’s rules. And he said he’s taking you home tomorrow. And anyway, it’s freezing out there, and it’s not safe for two pretty girls to be out on their own.” He let that sink in for a moment. “Do you know what happens to girls when they’re out on their own in the middle of the night?” Jem shook her head, taking a step behind Anna. “I’ll tell you,” he gloated. “Bad things. Now,” he said, “Gregor wants to keep you safe. So, you’ll stay here tonight, and tomorrow he’ll take you home. Okay?”

  Jem nodded and tugged at Anna’s arm. “Let’s sit down.”

  “Good girl. See, I’m like Gregor. I just don’t want the bad men to hurt you.”

  Jem made a mewling noise and tugged again at Anna’s sleeve. “Come on, Anna, let’s sit back down.”

  A sickening, gloating smile, half-lit by moonlight, spread across Toadie’s face. “That’s better,” he crooned. “Now go and sit down like a good girl.”

  Anna followed Jem, and sat beneath the cover, unable to sleep as the obnoxious Toadie watched over them from his chair.