by Sara Clancy
Every joint in her spine sparked as she forced herself onto all fours. She couldn't remember anything beyond the moment of impact. But hours must have passed while she was unconscious and the dogs free to run wild. They hadn’t roamed too far, each one deciding to keep close to the food bags. Her head was swimming. Before, she had struggled to think straight. Now, regaining consciousness for the second time that day, Ruby’s vision blurred every time she blinked.
Using the fence that had wounded her, she dragged herself to her feet. Learning from her mistake, she collected one of the remaining hunks of wood as she limped over to the dogs that were still attached to the sled. This time, she made a point of carefully jamming the wood under the blades, preventing the dogs from moving forward. Or, at the very least, allowing a little bit of warning if they tried to bolt.
Time was precious now. A treasure she was quickly losing. She couldn't spare a second of it wallowing in the pain that rippled through her. It took every ounce of her focus to recall her past failures and successes. She didn’t move until she knew what she wanted to do. Her head screamed that it was taking too long, but without having to repeat anything, she soon had the remaining dogs in place. Before, they had been somewhat reluctant. Now, with night stalking them, it was as if they feared being left behind.
The day had turned to dusk, the air around them thickening with tension, when she tentatively placed her feet on the runners. The cuts on her hand screamed as she gripped the woven material of the reins. It was hard to keep her weight balanced with one leg threatening to buckle at any moment. Stiff and shivering, she slipped the wooden block free. In broken lurches, the dogs trotted forward. They wanted to run and it took all her weight and strength to keep them from doing so. Their first voyage consisted of the few feet that separated the yard from the cabin. She barely managed to hang on for even that long.
With a hard yank, she brought them to a stop outside of the cabin door and shoved the plank back into place. Carrying the injured pups, one by one, made her arms ache and her spine shatter, but she didn't have much choice. The soft snow swallowed her feet with every step. There was no way she was going to be able to drag them over it. As gently as she could, she positioned them on the flat area of the sled designed for passengers or supplies. Their anxious whimpers grew sharper and faster as the sun continued to creep below the horizon.
Under the last of the light, she searched the cabin for her winter hat, scarf, and all the flashlights she could find. As a last minute thought, she grabbed her wallet. If all went well, she wouldn't have to return. If it didn't, at least she wouldn't be seen as just a headless, nameless corpse. Putting it in her breast pocket, she zipped it closed and patted the bulge, then drank the last remains of the water. The few drops were enough to make her feel ill. As her last act before leaving the tent, she lit a fire and stocked it with all the remains of the woodpile. Perhaps, if she had any luck left to her name, the children will think that she was still there. It wouldn’t trick them for the whole night. But all she needed was the head start.
She had only been in front of the fire for a few moments, but the shift in temperature was noticeable and hard to abandon. Still, she hurried outside, closing the door tightly behind her. Echo and Nugget were still making pathetic little noises when she neared.
“It's okay.” She gave each a pat, the motion soothing them as much as it did her. “It'll all be okay.”
It was already getting hard to discern the air from the trees, but she refused to turn on the flashlight yet. The dogs should know the way and she didn't want to draw any attention. Tension rolled through the pack, as if one's fear fed the other, and she took her place at the back. Her breath misted as she kicked the wood block. It spared her from bending over, but even that limited movement hurt.
The second the block scattered away, the dogs broke into a run. Ruby shifted her weight forward, trying to keep her footing and steer at the same time. The frame rattled violently under her, coursing pain through her leg with every jolt. They raced across the yard and out onto the road. It was barely a turn at all but still almost enough to toss her aside again. Not daring to slow them down, she took the long ends of the reins, swung them around her waist, and made them into knots. They were flimsy and loose, but it made her feel better. Thrown or standing, the dogs would take her with them. Her last tug on the knot cracked the reins. The dogs took it as a sign to speed up and worked themselves into a sprint.
The icy wind lashed across her skin, working its way through the thin material of her tattered jacket and the thin gaps of her scarf. The dogs' paws kicked up the snow as they sailed over the bumps and grooves of the weathered road. The piles of snow and ice smoothed the journey, but her battered and raw body ensured that she felt everything. Exposed to the elements, the wind and chill broke her apart. Her vision blurred and her head rolled as the dogs worked themselves into a frantic pace. It was getting harder to keep upright. Harder to take each jolt without a cry of pain. But she bit back the pain, determined to make their escape as silent as possible. It wasn't as if she believed that the children would hear her. It was that her most primal fear told her they already could. They seemed to lurk in every shadow. Their eyes following her wherever she went.
It was too dark now to see much beyond dusky shapes pressed against the grayish sky. Hunching forward, she tightened her grip on the back of the sled and snuck a glance over her shoulder. A part of her expected to see the children following behind. Her attention was caught by the single pinprick of gold that marred the horizon. The cabin. The fire still burned. And they were still close enough to see it.
The freezing air played with the injuries, pushing her closer to unconsciousness as her body heat dwindled. The snow was coming faster now, striking her like hail, and stinging her eyes. Without warning, the dogs lurched forward with new desperation. Ruby forced herself to straighten and search the shadows that draped over her with renewed focus. Her heart rammed against her rib as adrenaline flooded her veins, drawing her further back from the precipice of pain. She couldn't see anything. While she longed to use one of the flashlights, she didn’t dare turn one on while the glow of the cabin was still visible.
A new snarl made her change her mind. Fumbling in the pocket where she had left the flashlights, Ruby clutched one of the cylinders and yanked it free. A beam of light cut through the shadows when she clicked it on. She panned the shaft over the side of the road, looking for the noise that seemed so close. It took her a split second to see the flash of movement. The shape was unmistakable.
The wolves had found them.
Spotting one made it easier to see the others. Half a dozen of them were spread out on either side, keeping pace with the dogs as they barreled down the road, slipping through the brush with practiced ease. Ruby reached for the knife, her only weapon to defend herself. Her glove patted across the canvas pocket but found nothing beyond the two spare flashlights. She had left it behind.
Fear gripped her as she cracked the reins and forced the dogs on. No matter how fast they ran, the wolves were always beside them. Then one leaped onto the road, blocking their path, forcing the dogs down the embankment. The sled skidded across the road and she was forced to push her weight down on her injured leg to keep it from tipping over. Snow washed out in waves and her flashlight flung from her hand as the sled careened into the waiting wolf. The large animal snarled and snapped for her head, its fangs snapping next to her ear. Before it could sink its teeth in, the sled jerked forward and followed the sled dogs down the embankment, leaving the growling wolf behind.
With a sharp buck that made her feet slip, the sled hit the bottom of the incline. The crack of ice cut over the rushing wind. The sled fishtailed, throwing her from one side to the next. She could do little more than cling to the sled and trust that the pack knew which way to turn. The sheet of ice gave way under them, shattering into large hunks that rattled under them as icy water sloshed over her feet. If it weren't for the constant pull forward, she wou
ld have sunk into the lake.
The fracturing ice made the wolves keep their distance. But it wasn't until they broke up onto the bank once more that she felt sturdy enough to reach into the pocket and pull out a second flashlight, this one heavier in her palm. She flicked it on in time to see one of the massive creatures, one of them launching itself towards her. She swung the flashlight. The glass shattered on impact and the bulb crumbled, leaving the exposed wires to spark and hiss in the darkness. She clicked it off with her thumb but kept the solid weight in her hand. As the forest drew closer, the branches slapping and slashing at her face, Ruby could do little more than hold on and swing blindly at any sound. She hit more branches than animals.
The ground bucked and rattled, tossing her around without any warning. Her injured leg gave up on trying to keep her upright. But shifting her weight made it harder to keep the sled from tipping. With a final, broken lurch, they slammed over a hill and raced out into an opening. After the oppressive darkness, the slither of moonlight was blinding. She could see the shapes and shadows of the retreated tree line as they crossed the open meadow. The wolves flanked them, a row of streaking figures on either side. Locking her attention on them, she hadn't been ready for the next buck. Her knee gave out and her hands slipped their hold. The reins knotted around her tight and dug into her stomach as the slack cut short and she was dragged behind the retreating sled.
Then the dogs stopped.
The sled skidded over the snow, and Ruby was sent topping and rolling until the snow grew thick enough to stop her.
Exhausted, battered, and panting, Ruby tried to sit up only to slump back down again. Her brain swirled within her skull. The best she could do was roll onto her stomach. By panic alone, she had managed to keep the broken flashlight in her hand. She held it like a club, ready to wield it even as her body refused to move.
Swallowing thickly, she looked up at the clearing. A massive shadow claimed one side of the meadow, but she couldn't see the wolves. The dogs had grown silent. Forcing herself up onto her knees, she tried to undo the knot, but her hands could only fumble over the strap. There was a crunch and her dogs shifted. Ruby lifted her torch and clicked it on.
The bulb sparked, creating a glow in the darkness. In the flickering light, she caught sight of the little boy standing at the very edge of the meadow. With each blast of light, he drew a step closer. Scrambling up onto her knees, Ruby clutched at the sled and cracked the reins. The dogs rushed forward, but she couldn't hold on. For a moment, the reins dragged her behind. Then the material snapped and she rolled to a stop. Pressing up, she lifted the flashlight. The next flicker brought the boy closer. In the one that followed, the eldest girl appeared by his side. Half of her skull was deformed, as if it were folding in on itself. Ruby dragged herself to her feet. Every limp was like walking on glass, but she raced towards the looming shadow, hoping to find a place to hide. Her stomach plummeted when her broken flashlight brought Peter's cabin into view.
Behind her, the children broke into a run. Their footsteps hammered like her heart beat. The pain in her limbs was unbearable, but she lunged up the stairs, fingers gripping the railings to pull herself up faster. A small hand slipped between the gaps, grasping for her ankle. Ruby had to leap to avoid the searching fingers and a sharp crack sounded as she landed awkwardly on the porch. On hands and knees, she crawled to the door and forced herself inside. She had just enough left in her to slam the door shut before she crumbled against it. Heaving each breath, she listened as the smallest child crawled out from under the porch. Each stair groaned as she calmly walked up them. Ruby’s heat stammered and panic swelled within her as the handle above her head turned. Peter invited them in, her mind screamed. They can get in!
The light still flickered as she sobbed and scrambled up towards the lock. With a metallic click, the door began to open. Ruby threw her weight against it but it was barely enough to keep the door in place. The soles of her boots scraped across the floor as she struggled against the constant force pressing against the other side. Pain burned within her ankle like molten lead. Sweat beaded across her skin and her muscles screamed, but she managed to make the door gradually inch back into its frame.
Keeping it in place was harder. Unwilling to drop the bulky, broken flashlight, the only weapon she had, Ruby fumbled to flick the lock into place. The polished surface slipped through her gloved fingers. The girl didn’t relent for a second. Tears burned Ruby’s eyes as she choked on her sobs. Bracing her feet, she lunged for the lock once more. Her heart leaped as it clicked into place.
In the resulting silence, it was impossible to miss the groan of the porch. It spurred Ruby into motion and she ran for the couch. The pain in her ankle increased with every step, but her fear was worse. She didn’t stop until the couch had been pushed over the limited distance and was lodged in front of the door. The sparking flashlight pressed hard against her palm as she clenched her fingers into the soft arm of the sofa. Silence fell over the frigid insides of the cabin, broken only by her heaved breaths and the rapidly shifting sounds of the dogs. Tension built in her with every passing second and burst from her in a scream as the three knocks rattled the door.
“Let us in,” the boy demanded.
“No.”
“We don’t need permission.”
“Why are you doing this to me?” she snapped, her fear mixing with her rage and panic until he didn’t know what to feel.
Seconds felt like hours as they refused to reply. Slowly, trying not to make a sound, she pushed herself higher and limped back from the door.
“What are you? What do you want?”
The boy spoke in barely more than a whisper, but it tore her open all the same. “We want to come in.”
“No.”
The silence was shattered as the children began to pound on the walls. By the flickering light, she caught sight of their heads passing by the windows. They moved from one to the next in the gasps of light. Smacking harder on the glass, screaming at her like wild animals, demanding that she let them in.
Ruby turned the light off, seeking some shadows she could hide within. The light died, but the pale moonlight turned the children into silhouettes. And if she could see them, they could see her. Hunching in on herself, she clutched the flashlight with both hands. Think. Think. Think. Glass shattered as the kids broke the windows. Their demands and screams grew, driving her insane as they tried to hurl their tiny frames through the high set windows.
She lumbered as fast as her battered legs would allow, stumbling into the kitchen. On the way, she grabbed everything she could and threw them at the children. They scattered at the impacts but always came back. Think. There has to be something. Her hands skimmed over the kitchen counter, her supply of weapons rapidly dwindling. Then she found the stove. She turned it on, allowing the stench of gas to pour into the room with a sharp hiss. Ripping open the cupboards and drawers, she searched each of them. Cutlery rattled together as her gloved hand found a knife, and she shoved it into her coat pocket, the blade slicing into the lining. Tiny hands, their skin pale and fine in the moonlight, hooked around the edge of the slim kitchen window. Shards of glass scattered down over the counter like hail. She tossed everything she found, but they only receded when she drove a barbeque fork deep into its wrist.
Amongst the scattered items, she found a few bottles. Her shoulder ached as she launched one after the other at the children as they appeared. The bottles exploded on impact. Their contents splashed across the walls and dripped from the broken shards of glass still lodged within the window frames like fangs. The children ducked away but always returned. The cabin reeked of gas and scattered alcohol. Then she only had one bottle left.
Yanking off the lid, she took a sniff. The smell of linseed oil burned her nose. Peter must have used it to stain his furniture. A plan formed in her mind, broken and vague. She didn't know what she was doing. But, as the demonic children kept screaming, promising her a death far swifter and more merciful than
what they had given to Peter or Mark, her fury propelled her on. Fear made her certain. If she was to die here tonight, she wasn’t going to die alone.
“Let us in!” The boy chanted. “Let us in!”
“Leave me alone!” Ruby shrieked back.
Glass crunched under her boots as she drizzled the linseed oil across the kitchen windowsill. The hands were back, reaching blindly, the shards slicing at their skin. Ruby raced across the room. The scent grew as she sloshed thin trails of the liquid over the couch, the curtains, and along each of the windows. She didn’t expect any of the fires to hold. But the sudden flash of burning alcohol might be enough to make them hesitate. Maybe just for a second. Just long enough for her to get a head start. Hoping that her frazzled state would keep the children from seeing the trap, or perhaps make them too enraged to care, she screamed at them again and flung whatever she had on hand in their directions. Everything but the broken flashlight and the remaining linseed oil.
Retreating back, her knuckles strained as she clutched the two items tightly. A hush fell over the world. They were gone. Turning in broken circles, her eyes darting between the windows and door, she tried to catch her breath. The combination of scents on each lungful made her gag. Her head was beginning to swim and her vision blurred around the edges.
A soft gasp of a metal made her spin around. The living room was small, allowing her a clear view of the bedroom door as it gradually creaked open. Slowly, the door swung back, revealing only an endless darkness that consumed the space. A breath of wind stirred the curtains, allowing the thin traces of moonlight to slip through. In that moment, the children stood as blocks of darkness that filled the threshold. The wind died, the curtain stilled, and they bled back into the darkness.
“We won't take long,” the boy said.
Ruby fumbled with the bottle of linseed oil. The liquid sloshed from the mouth, sliding down the sides to seep into her gloves. In unison, the three children crept forward. Their eyes caught the faintest traces of light and shone like slick stones. As they neared, she backed up a step and whipped her hand out to form a cross. The linseed oil arched out across the space and splashed against the children. Their only reaction was to take another step closer. All she could hope was that they believed she was really trying to hysterically banish them. That they wouldn’t see how deliberately she covered them. That their desire to terrorize her would be enough to keep them in place, just to prove to her how pathetic her attempts to defeat them were.