Frostarc

by Arthur McMahon

  I say unto you dear reader, unto you traveler of words, journeyer of prose, adventurer of the pages of another’s life, break away from your linear stretch of paved comfort and step into the squishy mud that few others dare enter. Play in it, stomp through it, pick it up and squeeze it and feel it ooze through your fingers and smell it and taste it. Use every sense you have on that mud and do with it what you cannot to the paved path. Create your own story for others to read.

  Caleb put down his comic book. It was only the first night out and he had already gone through one of the few he had packed in his bag.

  A full day’s travel brought the group to the edge of the woods at the end of the ranch. They chose an area for camp that was sheltered by a few small trees which stood outside the wall of old growth. The twigs and branches Kozz had gathered held frost on the outside, but were dry inside. Luciele started a fire without any trouble.

  “I don’t know where we are going to go,” said Luciele. “Caleb and I, we’re like two pickles without a jar. Do you think the quarantine zone will be safe?”

  “Depends,” said Kozz, “on just how wide spread this outbreak is. Could be that they have a way to control it, could be that they don’t.”

  “If only we had another choice. Harold and his mother were the only family I had left, and with them gone—” Luciele trailed off when she saw Caleb become upset at the mention of the departed. It was difficult for her to grasp that her son had become infected and in his state of delirium had committed such acts as attacking Kozz and murdering his own grandma. She still did not fully believe it, hoping that Caleb’s sickness had created the thoughts in his mind. Kozz had not protested anything Caleb had said, but she did not want to believe it. How could such a thing happen?

  Their first night out in the open together was uncomfortable. The lone tent they had was barely large enough to fit the three of them, especially with Kozz being as large as he was, and the ground beneath them was frozen and hard. In such tight and awkward quarters Kozz knew they would be forced to get to know each other well during their journey. The night was quiet and still, other than the sporadic ‘haw’ made by one of the mules.

  The morning brought aching muscles, but everyone worked together to disassemble their campsite and made their way into the forest. The coniferous trees on the forest’s perimeter had full branches all the way down to their trunks, but after breaching the first few rows the woods opened with only the roof of the forest harboring foliage. The edge of the forest was dotted here and there with stumps, trees that Luciele, Caleb, and Harold had previously cut down for firewood. There was no underbrush, only a thin layer of frozen ice that had entered the forest as light snow flurries landing on the undisturbed ground, succumbing to the winter chill and sinking down into a slab of ice. The air was quiet with not a single bird nor rodent to disturb the stillness.

  Luciele took the lead, having spent a great deal of time in these woods with her husband and son. A good bit of the early travel was done on the trails the family had carved throughout the years. The barren forest was easy for the large mules to walk through, but it could be disorienting to a person who did not know the area well. Kozz was grateful to have Luciele as a guide.

  The deeper they delved into the thickening spires of wood, the more the sunlight and ice dwindled. Generations of pine needles covered the forest floor. When Caleb was not on his mule he scuffed his feet along the ground, kicking away the layers of frozen needles and uncovering the cracked earth below. “The roots under these old trees run deep,” said Luciele, “and you won't find much else sprouting from the ground in this neck of the woods. With nothing but acidic needles to eat it's near impossible for any little critters to survive. Whenever we hunted in these woods we had to reach the southern or eastern ends before we could find anything worth tracking. A few wandering predators will pass through from time to time, but only to get to somewhere else.”

  The forest thickened like a soup that was set aside to cool. Their pace slowed as they worked to get the mules through the tightening packs of trees. “Get a move on you old heifer,” Kozz pushed one of the mules from the rear, wedging it between two large evergreens. Caleb turned around and giggled at the sight. His mother sighed.

  “First off that isn't a she, it's a he,” said Luciele. “Secondly, he is not bovine. And thirdly I'm surprised he hasn't kicked you square in the jaw by now, get your hands off his behind already!” She hurried over to the front end of the mule and rubbed its head. “I'm sorry, baby. He doesn't know any better. I ain't sure what was going through that thick head of his.” Luciele grabbed its reins and backed the mule out, guiding it around the trees with ease. “Follow my lead and you won't be getting him stuck again, Kozz.”

  “I was!” he huffed. “We were following your steps but then that damn horse went off on its own way and got itself stuck.”

  “Isn't a horse, and it won't go off thataways unless you make it go thataways. He knows how to follow quite well. You ever even worked with a mule before?”

  “Animals never been quite my thing, darlin'.” Kozz took the reins from Luciele's hand. “Go on, we'll follow.”

  She gave Kozz a fierce glare, but smiled when she turned away. Caleb buried his giggles into his shoulder.

  They walked downhill into a large crater where small underbrush and saplings barely clung to life. A mostly frozen pond filled the bottom of the natural well, seeping between the trees like a marsh. They climbed to the other side of the dip and spent the night in a small clearing where one tree had fallen and taken a couple of others with it. A small patch of night sky poked through the pine-strewn roof above.

  Caleb made the fire and Luciele warmed up some of her home-cooked leftovers before they spoiled. She set her packs aside as she cooked, and Kozz finally got a good look at the shotgun she was carrying. He asked if he could hold it.

  “Mmhmm,” replied Luciele. She handed him the weapon.

  The double-barrel felt cold and dirty in his hands. The way it probably made Luciele’s heart feel when she used it last, thought Kozz. He looked it over, ran his hands along its surface, dismantled it, and then inspected the insides. “How did you land your hands on this beauty?”

  “Harold is the collector,” she replied, “and he paid a good bit for this one. He had a bunch of firearms, what he calls his old guns. You saw some of 'em above our fireplace. I decided to leave the rest behind with him, except for this one.” She grabbed the gun from Kozz and put it back together. “I didn’t want to leave this one near him, the one that took his life away. It may have saved mine, but it killed my better half. My Harold.”

  Luciele excused herself to the tent. Caleb drew in the pine needles on the ground with a stick and Kozz asked what he was drawing. Caleb told him that it was his father sitting in an airship, he was flying his dad away into the air to protect him from the infection. “My mom says he’s up in the sky somewhere right now, watching over us and protecting us as best he can. Maybe I’ll be able to fly up there sometime and I’ll get to see him again.”

  “It takes strength to believe.” Kozz looked over the fire to the small boy on the other side. He could only marvel at how well Caleb was handling such tragic circumstances. “I’m sure he would like that, Caleb.”

  Luciele called her son to bed. Caleb kicked away his drawing and said goodnight before entering the tent.

  Kozz sat with the fire by himself for a time and thought about his family. He had grieved for his son for so long, suffering through every element of sadness and anger a human mind could go through. He tortured himself with guilt and held the blame against himself for all of the years since his son had died. He had let his fear and self-hatred take over. He had abandoned his wife and tried to forget the entirety of his past life. He wept at the thoughts.

  Caleb is so strong, he thought, and I am so weak. The boy and his mother were bringing up all of the memories Kozz had fought back and locked away over the past decade. Their questions, their stories, their famil
iarities were all keys that were unlocking the rusted seals in his mind. He cared for his new friends, but they swelled an anger inside of him. They brought up all of the flames of pain that he thought he had extinguished. He knew he was blessed to have their companionship, and he knew he had to deal with the pain. He could not fight it any longer. He needed to find his wife, he needed to see her again, he needed to be sure that she was alright after all of these years. A tsunami of memories flooded his thoughts, consuming him, drowning him. His mind was racing from one thought to the next, he felt like he was going insane, like he was going to die, like his brain was going to crack.

  Kozz stood up and ran away from the campsite, his thick boots thudded on the ground and his breaths came out in grunts like a bear. His large body bounced between the trees and his jacket snagged on twigs and ripped them from their branches. Snot dripped from his nose, and he spat out the mucus pooling in his throat. Kozz tripped on something and fell forward, rolling down a hill. He came to a stop at the icy edge of the pond where its waters had frozen around the bases of several dead trees. There he cried in a way that only a man who had held in a lifetime of horrors could cry. Caleb and Luciele heard him in their half-sleep, the sound of such a strong man in such a state of despair was both heart-breaking and frightening. They felt sorry for him in the same way that they were sorry for themselves. This night was Kozz’s window to forgiveness. The pines heard his wretched unraveling, they witnessed his convulsing sobs, and they gave to him the serenity and spiritual surrounding he needed to unleash his own personal demons. Kozz let it all out. He suffered, he apologized to his wife and son, he begged for forgiveness, he prayed, and he screamed out all of his anger, beating his self-loathing into the crispy pine needles with his fists. Kozz fought with himself through the night, eventually succumbing to mental and physical exhaustion.

  He crawled his way back to the campsite and rested next to the fire where he fell fast into sleep. Luciele quietly exited the tent to put a thick blanket over Kozz and a pillow under his head. She stoked the fire and made sure he was safe from it. They all slept well past dawn the next morning.

  Kozz awoke in a daze, his mind fogged over from the forces exerted on it the night before. His face felt heavy and his entire body was sore. Luciele exited the tent and her son came back from somewhere beyond the camp, zipping up his trousers. Caleb was about to say something to Kozz, but his mother hushed him before he could speak. Kozz ignored it, knowing it was going to be about his episode last night.

  That morning they crossed through the dense section of woods and entered a much more open forest. Thin shrubs scattered across the forest floor, dotted with small patches of broad-leaved ferns. A subtle din of birdsongs littered the distance, occasionally broken by the squall of a raptor on the hunt. Sprinkles of blue and thin rays of light broke through the green top of the forest.

  After hearing his sadness the night before, both Caleb and Luciele were surprised to see that Kozz looked even stronger today than he had been in the past. His shoulders were no longer slumped forward, but held back with pride. His chin was raised just a bit higher than usual, and each step forward he took was planted with firm determination. Something happened last night, thought Luciele, something has changed in him. Though it was apparent from the moment they met Kozz that he was a substantial man with great power and skill, his presence seemed to have multiplied by the way he was now carrying himself.

  “Kozz,” began Luciele, “why are you—“

  “I’ve been forgiven,” said Kozz before she could ask her question. “Priscilla and Jake, they told me they had forgiven me a long time ago. They spoke to me last night and we all told each other how much we love one another. They told me I had to forgive myself. I told them I couldn’t do it, not alone. They said they would help me, and they did. They shared their love with me, and I forgave myself for what happened. I forgave myself for what I’ve done and what I didn’t do. I forgave myself for it all.

  “Everything I’ve kept away, all the weight that was on my shoulders has been lifted. I can actually feel it. I’m lighter, less sluggish, and even my heart feels less restricted. I can feel it pumping harder than it has in years. I feel young again. I feel happy.

  “Now we’re on our way to Port Town. You, Caleb, and me—, and we’ll be there for each other the entire way. Then I’m off to find my wife, my lovely Priscilla. Nothing will stop me from reaching her.”

  Luciele walked over to Kozz and put her arms around him. “I’m glad you found what you needed,” she said to him. “You’re a good man, Kozz.” She reminded him that he had saved her son, that he had gone out of his way to help her bury her husband, and that he had allowed them to accompany him on his journey.

  “No,” said Kozz, “you welcomed me into your journey. I don’t know if I would have survived this trip on my own. You and your boy have done more for me than you could imagine. I haven’t felt this good in a long time, and it’s all thanks to you two. All I needed were a couple of friends to give me a guiding hand. I still have a long way to feeling more like the man I used to be, but something snapped in me last night. I forgave myself, and that was the first step.”

  As the day passed they traveled into thicker underbrush and warmer air. The trees were still mostly pine, but a few deciduous oaks broke the monotony. Kozz was never one for remembering names of creatures and trees, but Caleb and his mother were wizards at it, naming every type of living thing they spotted along the way. It was a game for them, something to pass the time.

  They camped that night and shared stories from their pasts. Kozz left out tales of his wife and son, opting to tell more about his childhood. He told them about life on Erde with his parents, about his mother's delicious double-baked pies, about the pool hall and shooting range he went to with his father, and about the family trips he took to the few nature reserves on the planet— which were not overrun by tarred streets, concrete, and skyscrapers. Kozz explained how his mother was a schoolteacher and his father was a military man, how they lived a good life until his parents died in a vehicle accident. He spent some time in foster homes until he escaped them and decided to live life on the streets.

  Caleb had fun talking about school and playing card games with his grandma and her friends. Luciele shared a few laughs about her high school days and some of the pranks she and her sisters liked to pull on boys.

  "Sisters?" asked Kozz. "You have family out there?"

  "Well...somewhere," admitted Luciele. "We had a falling out after mom and pop passed away. My sisters didn't like Harold. I haven't talked to either of them in years."

  "That's too bad," said Kozz. "Do you know where they are?"

  "Not a clue. They both moved back to Erde after mom passed. I haven't heard from them since, and that was before Caleb was born. They could be anywhere, and I don't really care where."

  "Must have been a rough falling out."

  "I'd rather not talk about it. In fact, I have this one story you have got to hear. Caleb, remember that time you were out at night chasing blinker bugs and ran back in the house all excited to tell dad and me about the warm pile of mud you found behind the barn?"

  "Mom!"

  A week had passed since Harold’s death and this was the first leisurely night they had together as a group, putting aside their troubles for a few hours to laugh with each other and play games.

  By noon the next day the air was mild and they all had to shed their winter coats to keep from sweating. The forest was cut off by a rock-faced bank with a steep slope. Small trickles of water dripped from the forest to the gray, slate surface and part way down the trickles merged to form a thin, clear stream. The few plants which lived on the smooth stone held onto cracks and small trenches scattered across the surface. The stream grew deeper farther down the slope as it weaved through its carved path between the boulders, and in the deeper sections of the stream was a species of enormous salamander, some as long as six feet and looked to weigh at least a hundred pounds. The harm
less creatures took little notice of the group's presence.

  The water made for a slippery descent down the hillside, but the many large rocks and fallen trees gave everyone solid holdings to grab on to. The mules had the most difficult time making the descent. Luciele grabbed the reins from Kozz's hand, intending to guide the animals herself. Kozz held the reins tight for a moment, but then let go with a huff. “I'm not used to being second in command, doll.”

  “Second?” Luciele cocked her head to the side. “Who said second? My son could handle all of this better than you if he weren't hurt. Heck, he probably can anyways, and stop calling me doll!” Kozz did not look pleased. Luciele smirked. It was almost too easy to get Kozz all riled up. “My woods, my mules, my rules.”

  “Hey momma,” said Caleb, “why don't we get Kozz to carry some of our bags. The mules are looking awfully tired.”

  Kozz turned his attention from Luciele to Caleb. He stared at the boy, no emotion showing on his scabbed face. He would have looked menacing if he were not the butt of their joking.

  “Great idea,” said Luciele. “Kozz, why don't you?—”

  “Bah!” Kozz adjusted the sack on his shoulder and marched forward. He hustled down the hill and nearly slipped on the wet rocks.

  “Like a grumpy old toad,” said Luciele. “Isn't he?”

  “Like a wart on the butt of a grumpy old toad.”

  At the base of the cliff the stream merged with several others and formed a small river. The forest floor was now dense with underbrush, mostly young trees and bushy ferns that were easy to push out of the way, and it was teeming with songbirds.

  Descending the slope brought aching backs and sore legs. They made camp early that night and Kozz set out to teach Caleb how to use the knife he had given him, just in case, but Caleb argued that he had experience skinning and gutting game with a knife and did not need any lessons. "Attacking and defending with a blade is a completely different ball game," said Kozz. He placed Caleb's hands on the grip and lifted the boy's arms. “First thing you gotta know is how to hold it. You've gotta be threatening. It's your first line of defense. If you're scary-lookin' enough you might frighten them off, if you're lucky.”