Rage of Winter

by Sam Herrera

  “Is he? Or is he just doing what’s best for his public image? That would be just like him.”

  “It’s your turn.” She scanned the board; I could tell her mind wasn’t on the game, but on her father. “I think we should just accept this for now.” She looked up, surprised.

  “What?”

  “How old are you?”

  “Twelve.”

  “Well, six years may seem like a long time, but it will fly by, believe me. And, if you absolutely have to get away, we can easily do that.”

  MARA

  Honestly, I couldn’t understand how he could be so calm when I was so angry.

  “How can we do that?” I demanded.

  “Well, we could cover for each other: either you or I vanish first and the other only follows after a while, when the cops have found someone else to annoy.” I considered while I looked around the shoebox. It was kind of nice: the sofa was a dark red, the TV was massive, the coffee table had dark water rings on it and the carpet badly needed vacuuming. It was like an alien planet where the muck and grime of everyday life, that was unheard of in our spotless, servant-monitored palace, was just there. Plus there was a great view of the Empire State Building from the balcony window. I liked it. I liked the pattern of the curtains as well: little stickmen and women balancing water jugs on their heads beside mudhuts and rocky ponds. And the small rug, I saw as I bent forward to look at it, had a pattern: a smiling, winking, waving Winnie the Pooh.

  “You like?”

  “It’s okay,” I shrugged.

  “Sandy got me that when I was a kid. My tenth birthday.” We both smiled. “Yeah, I was obsessed: Winnie the Pooh, Piglet, Christopher Robin, whatever.” I nodded a few times, recalling being inseparable from my Barbie dolls at that age.

  KYLE

  I sat at the bar and sipped my iced beer, allowing myself to relax for the first time in a long week. Back at the club, it was that time of the month when the full moon was out and all the psychos were out with it; I’d been dodging fists and knives all night. As I walked back from the bar, balancing the tray of drinks in one hand, holding a paper with the other, I sighed and tilted my head back even further, letting the hot sun beat down on my face after flopping into my lawn chair. God, I’d needed this. I smiled at Mara’s white legs and arms, sticking out of her new, blue one-piece, positively shining in the bright sun. She was spread out on her own lawn chair, her white-blonde hair hanging loose and wavy and her face lost in the shadow of her huge sunhat. She turned her head towards me, her dark shades reflecting the tropical sun, and smiled, accepting the drink I was offering. We’d both planned this carefully: we had flown here. I had booked us in one of the local hotels, overlooking the beach, then I’d flown straight back while she called her friend, Scout, asking her to cover, telling her she was taking a holiday while getting her to stall Ron Hale in the unlikely event that he called. It was her Aunt Sarah who was the problem. I’d kicked back until the cops she’d called came by, as Mara had told me they would. I still had to fight back a smile, remembering them coming to my door and finding nothing. I’d given them nothing as well:

  “Kyle Thayer?”

  “Who’s askin’?”

  “Are you familiar with Mara Hale?”

  “She used to be a friend of mine.”

  “Her father has set up—”

  “I know. I read my mail, ya know.”

  “Is she here?”

  “If I’m barred from seeing her, she’s not likely to be, is she?”

  “Is. She. Here?”

  “Noooooah.”

  “Are you going on vacation?”

  “Mind your own business.”

  “Visiting relatives maybe?”

  “Get out of my doorway.”

  I’d begun packing the instant they left. As I’d poked my head out to check if the coast was clear, a feeling of being watched came over me. As I walked out with my suitcases and lowered the ramp, the feeling got worse. The hairs on the back of my neck stood upright and I kept looking over my shoulder. But there was no one there. Maybe the police interview had got me riled. Who cared? I was on vacation.

  MARA

  Ah, this is the life. We’d just flown the ship until we’d found somewhere sunny, remote and tropical. Freshwater Beach, Australia wasn’t the most popular resort, but a nice stretch of coast all the same. We’d heard from the guy at the beach hut that sometimes the waves got a bit choppy and to watch out for ‘blueys’, whatever they were. I was glad we’d picked here. I grinned, remembering the ride in. We’d seen the Great Barrier Reef from a bird’s eye view with all the small islands peeking just above the surface of the water in all their exquisite colors: dark-green, sea-green, cerulean-blue, golden and yellow. Around these islands there were banks of what looked like moss, black against the ocean’s blue. In between them the sea turned a deep-purple. The ocean was cool and calm and just right for paddling. We’d both needed this. I was being pressured from all angles to say something they could use against Kyle to put him in jail. I sighed. It wasn’t fair; he hadn’t done anything wrong. I smiled as I remembered the furious, baffled looks on their faces, knowing they could not prove anything or get anything out of me as, officially, we’d kept well apart since the order was in place and I’d clamped my mouth shut, just as I always did whenever Father came around, acting all important. Screw you people.

  KYLE

  I was loving this and, judging from Mara’s blissful sighs and perfectly relaxed posture, she was too. I smiled as some woman walked along the coastline, smiling flirtatiously as me. I tutted and rolled my eyes as she walked off, swinging her hips more than necessary.

  “You know, I’m sure we can find some sticks under the palm trees over there,” Mara told me, pointing to them, a small smirk on her lips.

  “Sticks?”

  “In case you need to beat them off,” she grinned. I rolled my eyes again, smirking demurely.

  “They seem to lose all modesty when you’re around. I don’t know what it is.”

  “Goddamnit,” I blushed, scoffing. “Quit it, will ya?”

  “I hope I have as much luck as you when I grow up.”

  You will, I thought, looking at her pearly-white skin and fine-spun hair. She was already beautiful and, best of all, she didn’t even know it; the kid wasn’t into herself at all.

  “I’ve been thinkin’,” I told her as I leaned back in the chair beside her, “we can enjoy ourselves with this thing; kick back in the sun and all that, but we’ve got an entire armory at our disposal: firesuits, weapons, body armor, all that. Why shouldn’t we use it?”

  “To do what?” she asked, sipping at her straw.

  “Prevent things like this.” I handed her the day’s paper. The headline showed a couple in Germany killed in a house fire by smoke inhalation. “If we had been there, we could have saved them.”

  “This was in Germany,” she reminded me.

  “And we are in Australia when, only a second ago, we were in America. See what I mean?”

  “You want us to fly around saving people, like superheroes?” she asked, a small smile playing around her lips.

  “We could,” I insisted. I’d been thinking about this for a while, my old, patriotic soldier’s instincts stirring in me. Fine, the army would never take me back, but fuck them. I no longer needed them now.

  “Why don’t we get ourselves a superhero name?” Mara grinned. “I think Justice League of America is taken. So was Noah’s Ark, last time I looked.”

  “I’m serious, alright. But, yeah, we should think of a name for the ship.”

  “What about Aquila?”

  “Aquila?”

  “I saw this show, once, about two guys who find a weird thing under the ground, just like we did, and use it to fly places, just like we’re doing.” I considered and thought it was kinda tame for a machine th
at made everything else on Earth that could fly look positively pathetic. TV shows? I suddenly thought of my favorite TV show and one of its main taglines. “What about Rage of Winter?”

  “Where’d you get that from?” she asked, frowning at me from above her shades.

  “Game of Thrones. Y’know the saying, ‘winter is coming’?”

  “No, never heard of it. Catchy title, though. So, what are you suggesting, preventing things?” she asked, frowning.

  “We read the papers and, if we can, do something about it.”

  “Hmm,” she murmured, unconvinced. “I’m going swimming.” I watched her dive into the surf, her arms and legs flashing up and down as she backstroked through the water. I then sat back and soaked up the rays, hoping she actually would think about it.

  MARA

  As I paddled in the wonderfully warm water, lazily backstroking and loving it, I had to admit the idea had a certain appeal. I had been the spoilt, rich kid all my life, all my needs cared for, never having to lift a finger. Sure, I worked hard at school, but there was a world of difference between that and what Kyle was suggesting. Saving lives? Hmmm. I saw something floating in the water beside me. It looked like some kind of small, plastic carrier bag with strings attached. Reaching out, I brushed it with my finger.

  KYLE

  A scream shattered my thoughts. I sat bolt upright, whipping off my shades. Mara was writhing in the shallows, screaming her fucking lungs out. Shit! I hadn’t heard wailing like that since Iraq; the bloodcurdling cries of someone in true agony. I jumped up and raced towards the water, wading in up to my knees and grabbing her. She was still screaming right in my ear, as I picked her up, her entire body arched and writhing, the veins in her throat standing out like whipcords.

  “Jesus, what’s wrong?!” I yelled at her over the screams. People began to gather around us: coastguards, surfers and tourists.

  “Crikey, look – a jellyfish,” someone said, pointing at the water. Jellyfish? At first I couldn’t see anything and then there they were, on the waves. Of course – the box jellyfish. The Blueys.

  “Fuck!” I looked around wildly for help. People were already on their mobiles, but we needed help now. Then, I saw it: a fish and chip van. Recalling my training in poisons and antidotes when I first came to Australia as an army cadet, I pushed my way through the crowd and raced towards it.

  MARA

  I was dying. I could not be in this much pain and live. Ah, God, make it stop. Mommy, please make it stop! I couldn’t take anymore. But more came; an endless cycle of white-hot fire, racing from my hand, around my whole body, burning me to death. I dug my heels and head into the sand, my entire body one big letter ‘n’. Through a haze of tears, I saw Kyle’s face and then it just stopped. He’d poured something cool and wet onto my hand and it just stopped. I began crying in relief as I sank down onto my back. Oh, thank you. Thank. You. That was my last thought before I passed out.

  KYLE

  I rode with her in the ambulance, telling them I was her father. They’d assured me she’d be fine. But I was still kicking myself. I had been to Australia. I had known the dangers. Had I given it a single thought? Had I fuck! I exhaled and squared my shoulders. At least I had remembered my training. Vinegar. Who would have thought something so small and everyday could dissolve a lethal venom and save a life? I looked across at Mara as she lay on the gurney, looking so small and weak with her eyes ringed in purple and her face drawn and even paler than usual.

  “I’m sorry.”She could have died, you fucking retard. She shook her head and reached out a hand to me. I took it. In my huge mitt, it looked like the hand of a toddler. From behind her oxygen mask, she smiled and I smiled back.

  I didn’t think I would ever get how kids could be so tough even if I lived to be a hundred. Mara looked like death warmed up and the ribbony purple scar on her forearm, stretching all way down to her hand, was there permanently. But she could still smile. I had to get her out of here as soon as they all-cleared her. If they all-cleared her. The last thing we needed was a background check right now. Once we were at my apartment, she was going to chill on the couch whether she liked it or not. I didn’t care how tough she was.

  MARA

  I lay in the bed, wearing this dumb gown. The doctor told me I was fine. They just wanted to keep me overnight for observation. I shook my head in wonder; I’d thought I was dead. As soon as he left, Kyle threw aside the curtain.

  “So, you’re okay?” I nodded. “Good. Great. C’mon, we’re outta here.” He held out my clothes and a new cap and pulled back the curtain, giving me some privacy. As I dressed, I kept looking sideways at his tall, shadowy outline. He’d saved me. He’d saved my life. How?

  *

  We just walked straight out of the hospital, I kept my head down and my hat pulled over my eyes.. We walked around the back to the parking lot. He lowered the ramp and we quickly climbed aboard and shut it again.

  “What was that stuff you poured on me?” I asked.

  “Vinegar. It will dissolve jellyfish venom every time, whether it’s white, black, malt, whatever.” I nodded and gave a low, impressed hum. We flew the rest of the way in silence.

  *

  We checked the coast was clear before hopping down onto Kyle’s balcony. I flopped onto the sagging couch, suddenly exhausted. I looked up as he came back into the living room, carrying two steaming mugs: soup for me, coffee for him. I took a sip and smiled. Mushroom, my favorite.

  “How’s your arm?” he asked, sitting beside me as we drank.

  “I’m fine. Really.” I rolled my eyes.

  “Don’t get bratty,” he scowled. “Only a few hours ago you were screaming your lungs out. Excuse me for being a little worried. You need time to recover anyway.” I rolled my sleeve up to feel the weird, thin scar. I’d seen it already in the mirror and it showed up clearly on my white skin. But it didn’t hurt at all.

  “Can I go home now?” I asked, missing my aunt.

  “Fine. Alright, but promise me you’ll rest there.”

  “Yes, Mom,” I nodded, smiling. He offered to help me up and carry me, but no way. I can walk, y’know. He checked the coast was clear and then lowered the ramp.

  “What’s up?” I asked, seeing him hesitate and look over the balcony rail as he was about to follow me aboard.

  “Nothin’,” he said, shrugging. We took seats in the cockpit and headed for home. It was getting dark as he dropped me off in the woods. I was about to just go around to the front of the house when I stopped and ran back, throwing my arms around his middle.

  “Thank you,” I smiled, looking up at him, my chin on his stomach. He gently pushed back one strand of hair from my eyes and he smiled back; his eyes, I noticed, were a beautiful, shining emerald and he had a nice smile.

  “You’re welcome.”

  *

  I collapsed on my bed the moment I was through the window. I didn’t even have the energy to wave goodbye to Kyle as he took off, I was so tired. I thought of Australia, of the warm sunny beaches and of paddling in the warm waves, shortly before… No, I wouldn’t think of that. I shuddered. I sighed as I saw my phone vibrate and the words “phone booth” appear on the screen.

  “I’m fine,” I said quickly before he could even ask.

  “Okay, just checkin.’”

  “Well, how many times do I have to say it?”

  “Sor-ry.”

  “So, when’s the next trip?”

  “Don’t you wanna stay at home and recover some? Shit.”

  “What?”

  “Some loudmouth actin’ tough. I gotta go deal with it.” Oh, right, he was at work. He’d told me he was a doorman. I could hear the nightclub music in the background. It sounded pretty tacky.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, coming back on the line. “So you wanna go somewhere else?”

  “Yeah,” I grinned, a
n idea forming in my mind.

  “Well, where?”

  KYLE

  Iceland. I grinned broadly. The solid week of absence, taking clumsy blows, having Plummer breathing down my neck and spending all day in bed with the anticipation driving me nuts had been worth it. Right now we were flying over Vatnajökull National Park, a broad, flat expanse of snow-covered plains bordered by mountains and icecaps. There were also a variety of rivers and gorges running through it. We landed and took our first steps out onto the snow, hearing it crunch beneath our feet. We had taken the precaution of dressing for the climes here. I wore an insulated coat, fleeces, gloves, walking boots and thermal underwear. Mara had gone for the more localized look: a raincoat fleece and Levi’s jeans with wellies over thick socks. But when we’d arrived at the town of Reykjavik and taken our first look around, she had fallen in love with a mock-Eskimo outfit at the museum’s gift shop. We wandered around, staying close to the Winter. That was what we’d decided to call it. I had even spray painted it on the lower hull. We didn’t want to take the chance of some hiker seeing snow begin to gather on thin air or wander too far in case we couldn’t find it again. In the distance I could see glaciers. They looked like a fixed part of the landscape but I had heard from nature shows that they were actually always on the move, sliding on and on, inch by inch, always moving. The Rage of Winter. I thought it was appropriate; this thing, with its mounted guns, could unleash a rage that was biblical, I was sure.

  “Can we go now?” Mara asked, her face pinched from the cold with a nose Rudolph would have envied.

  “I want to explore a little more.”

  *

  To warm up we took a little detour to the Blue Lagoon sauna. The whole lagoon was outdoors and completely natural. We grabbed towels from the front desk and carried them down the wooden steps, over the rocks, to the bubbling water. It felt great to chill and relax in its warmth and take in the scenery. In the distance I could see black lava boulders, covered by coarse dark-green moss and steam rising from the hot springs that fed the Jacuzzi. I smiled across at Mara. She was certainly enjoying herself. In her new red swimsuit with the tips of her white hair waving in the bubbling water and her eyes closed in bliss, surrounded by wisps of steam, she looked like a kind of fiery nymph or spirit.