In case you missed it, head over to part 1 and start from the beginning.

Shattered Peak

The smell of fresh pine engulfed the two teens as they walked amongst the trunks of pulp-destined trees. They were predominantly pine and spruce, mostly of the same age. Clumps of snow accumulated along their branches as the needles accepted that growing was futile. It was now time to conserve energy and survive the cold ahead.

“Have you seen the fish swimming in the creek beneath the ice?” queried Gregory, turning his head in the direction of his friend as the two pulled their sleds along through the snow.

“Sure I have. They’re resistant to extreme cold,” replied Joseph.

“Crazy, right?” Gregory stopped pushing his sled to explain his understanding. “I never thought that was even a thing until I saw it for myself. I had to search it up for an explanation. The fish synthesise anti-freeze proteins in their blood and tissues so even as the water temperature plummets, they’re still able to survive.”

“I wonder if you eat enough of those fish, you’d have some kind of antifreeze superpower. I suppose those proteins are probably just broken down during digestion, right? Too, bad. I could do with some cold resistance right about now,” Joseph said, folding his arms across himself while the two stood and talked.

“You know, though,” Gregory turned to Joseph, “I’ve heard weird stories of guys who’ve eaten fish they’ve caught while they were out and had hallucinations. Even missing time. Not hours or anything, but like a few minutes. Fef’s old lady told his pop to stop bringing home fish.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if we have an Erin Brockovich situation,” said Joseph. Gregory considered his friend’s words then raised an eyebrow. “The mill’s water supply is on a closed loop isn’t it? They had an internal treatment facility built years ago.”

“How else would contamination be possible?” The two boys shrugged in unison.

Gregory and Joseph continued through the blotted white tree stand, pulling their sleds along behind them. The teens had not experienced much outside of the town other than what they read and saw in the media, but they had interests that kept them busy and their friendship was forged well before puberty struck. They were now on the verge of manhood, taking greater risks and challenging each other.

The sleds were loaded with necessary hiking equipment in rucksacks with steel buckles– a portable solid fuel camp stove, some rope, a hand pick-axe and hammer, a basic windbreak consisting of a plastic sheet and pegs, shoe spikes, food and a couple of small, blackened steel cooking pots. The two would often hike out to Shattered Peak just looking to get out and about and enjoy the wilderness. The cold kept most people inside, hunkered down for the winter. The cold was a force that few could withstand, both mentally and physically. However, with the right preparations and a little planning, the boys would avoid the worst of the weather getting a ride part way up the mountain, hike for two hours, set up their shelter, then eat and talk. Returning was quicker, but more dangerous. They would sometimes ride their sleds down though clearings, risking hitting a tree or another woodland obstacle – including invisible fence lines. The boys had heard plenty of stories of people trying to get down from the peak too quickly only suffering serious injury after ploughing into taut steel wire, demarcating property lines. The two trudged on slowly when a shout rang out through the woods.

“Hey there! Some help?” The voice wasn’t panicked, but it was insistent. A man in his mid-forties could be seen in the distance waving an arm, a black blur motioning from side to side. The boys stopped, left the sleds and dashed over to where they could see the man. They recognised him in an instant. His name was Parley Hess. Greg’s father and the others that worked with him at the mill called him Garfield due to his curly orange beard and fiery clump of unkempt hair. He also developed an affinity for lasagne, too, but that might have been acquired after the nickname stuck.

Garfield was standing next to a fence. A black snowmobile with a contrasting red toolbox propped on it was parked near him. He had a silver coffee thermos and a roll of fencing wire next to him and a pair of wire cutters in his hands. At first, the boys were wondering what the problem was. Garfield did not appear hurt, but his face was whiter than normal, like he was in the early stages of shock. Joseph looked down at his feet. One foot was close to the post allowing him to work on the wire around it and support himself. However, one boot was lower than the other, sunken into the ground and it appeared as if Garfield had tried cutting himself out of it. His boot and sock were all cut up and there were threads and bits of sheared leather strewn about resting on the surrounding snow. A small pile of snow and ice had built up where Garfield tried to dig himself out.

“Fuckin’ foot’s stuck, boys. I was working on the fence as a favour to Reverend Kinder and my foot must’ve slid down.”

He was relieved to have garnered the attention of the boys. Perspiration formed on his top lip. The burly man was trying to keep his cool, but clearly began to feel like he was running out of options. His voice was hoarse, as if he had been calling out. He could not have known the boys were nearby. Their sleds were noiseless after all.

The boys knelt down to get a closer look. Garfield’s boot was all cut up to bits. He must have been at it for at least thirty minutes. And the sock was cut through revealing his foot.

“How long you been out here for, Mr Hess?” asked Gregory, who was now kneeling down, his fingers prying bits off the shredded boot.

“Not long. Just.. just been at this one post. Got a bit distracted. A woman was calling out to me.” Hess’s mouth issued a drifting fog as he spoke. The moisture he exhaled condensed quickly in the bitter cold air. He took a breath. Instantly, the influx of cold into his lungs caused him to involuntarily cough and heave.

“What do you mean? What was she doing out here?” Gregory’s eyes tried to gain a lock on Garfield’s but his eyes were distant. The boys shared a look of confusion.

“She was.. gorgeous. She... she was calling me.” Hess’s words drifted on the air.

“Don’t worry, Mr. Hess. We’ll have you out. We have some equipment that might do the trick. The two boys rummaged through their gear before agreeing that the best course of action was to strike the back of the pick-axe with the hammer to carefully chip away at the ice surrounding Garfield’s boot.

While Joseph worked prodigiously at the ice around Garfield’s foot in an attempt to free it, Gregory had Garfield’s womanly preoccupation on his own mind. What on Earth was a lady doing out in the snow? And how would she have got out here? It just seemed entirely improbable. These were remote parts. Gregory returned to Joseph as he urged him closer. Garfield was disinterested by now. He was clearly suffering the cold and it was affecting his cognition. Joseph pointed his gloved finger down to the bottom of the hole he was digging and revealed the colour of Garfield’s foot, clearly visible now after the snow had been cleared out. A nightly shade of black and purple crept across the skin where the arteries of his own body had made their choice. They had constricted blood flow in response to the cold in order to keep Garfield alive. The skin cells had been abandoned and left to perish. A bodily sacrifice in the hope of survival.

Gregory took over the task of freeing Garfield and within minutes, he was free but unable to walk. The two struggled with the large man and eventually hauled him up and over the snowmobile. Gregory used ropes to lash Garfield onto the vehicle and onto Joseph, preventing him from falling. It was imperative that it was done properly now, as the snowmobile couldn’t carry all three of them and if Garfield came loose there’d be no way Joseph could get him back on alone. The result would be disastrous.

Click here for Part 4.

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I’m currently working on my debut fantasy novel based on my early work, Adventures in Elowyn Glade. Click the link to get an idea of where my first novel is headed!

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