Rage of Winter Read online

  RAGE OF WINTER

  Sam herrera

  Copyright © 2018 Sam Herrera

  The moral right of the author has been asserted.

  Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Matador®

  9 Priory Business Park,

  Wistow Road, Kibworth Beauchamp,

  Leicestershire. LE8 0RX

  Tel: 0116 279 2299

  Email: [email protected]

  Web: www.troubador.co.uk/matador

  Twitter: @matadorbooks

  ISBN 9781788034814

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

  Matador® is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

  To my family

  For their unending love and support

  MARA

  I wondered, for what must’ve been the millionth time, why I was doing this. I looked from the hand-written song I was holding to the solid oak door of “Father’s” office. He always insisted on being called Father instead of just plain and simple Dad and I never understood why. Here goes, I thought, opening the door. His high-backed swivel chair swung around. He was wearing, as always, an earpiece and an annoyed frown. I’d often wondered if that expression was permanent.

  “What’s this on my ear?”

  “Phone,” I answered, my smile vanishing instantly.

  “Why’s it next to my ear?” I walked away without even bothering to answer.

  Once outside the office, I sighed deeply as I flopped on the couch. It was hopeless. He didn’t care, never had and never would. As a kid, I’d duped myself into thinking there would someday be a Christmas or birthday when he would start paying real attention to me instead of sending me an expensive toy from hundreds of miles away. But, over the years, I came to realize it would never happen. I was an afterthought, nothing more. Unlike Andy. My father and my brother were best buddies. I suddenly didn’t want to ride in the limo with the hired help or hang around this huge, empty manor with nothing to do. I went for a walk.

  I hid in the bushes and waited, checking my watch. Father’s client meeting was only a few minutes away. There was at least one every day, usually at exactly this time: three-thirty in the afternoon. Timing it perfectly, I let the client’s limo go by and slipped out the gate just before it swung shut. I grinned. These snobs were nothing if not predictable. I wondered where I would go now. Mom’s grave? I often went there when I got more lonely than usual. A friend’s house? What friend? I just wandered down the busy road into town with nowhere particularly in mind. When I reached the center of Gramercy, I suddenly found myself looking up at Father’s new construction project: another multi-story parking lot even uglier than the last one. Yeah, he hasn’t built a million of them already. I looked up at Father’s picture as it hung down from the scaffold railing. He was smiling, and waving, and dressed in his best suit. When was the last time he’d smiled at me, I wondered. Oh yeah, it was when those P.R. interviewers came to ask me about what it was like being the daughter of one of New York’s most prominent businessmen. I’d always made a point of avoiding being photographed and I guessed no one had told them about my strangeness. It was an awkward interview anyway; they just wouldn’t quit staring until I’d grown sick of it and walked out. I turned left along Third Avenue on my way to the park; I realized I was pretty hungry. I checked my pockets and found I had about seventeen bucks. I looked around and saw what looked like a bar and restaurant called Pete’s Tavern, across the road, and went gratefully into its cool shade. Inside it was pretty crowded and people were surprised to see a kid in there. I waited until my turn and moved up to the counter.

  “I’ll take a lasagna with salad to take away, please.”And a little less gawking. Once outside, I headed to the park, hoping for a quiet place to eat. I looked around at the other people as they walked or cycled by: couples strolling arm-in-arm, suits on their lunch breaks, families picnicking. There was one old couple, sitting on the bench across from me and I wondered how long they had been together. Normal people, able to do what I never could. I looked up at the sky, watching the clouds. Some of them were shaped like the orc’s faces from Lord of the Rings. If I looked hard enough I’d swear I could make out a scorpion. I leaned back, letting the bright sunshine warm my face. This, at least, I could enjoy.

  KYLE

  I smirked as I walked into the park. When was the last time I’d gone for a walk, driven a car, talked to a woman? I knew exactly how long: two years. It felt more like ten. Jail not only drags out the years, it puts years on ya.. When I’d looked into the mirror of my cell on that last day, I’d seen an older man, a lot paler and at least fifteen pounds lighter. I’d exercised a lot while in there and been careful to eat only enough of the trash they fed us to avoid passing out. I didn’t know how I’d got out at all. I supposed it was because I’d always been the one getting trouble, not giving it. I gave a small smile as I remembered sending Rawly, a small-time drug dealer who’d pulled a knife on me, to the prison hospital with a fractured wrist and a smashed jaw. I had no idea where to go from here. I just thanked God my father, the only parent I’d ever known, wasn’t an option. Fuck. Him! Casting all thoughts of the future from my mind, I carried on with my stroll. Some woman smirked and batted her eyes at me. I sighed. I hated that. Sure I was love-starved, but damn. Women like that…? I kept walking, coming to a busy road. A gaggle of schoolgirls came up behind me and I was, for the next ten minutes at least, treated to info on the latest Justin Bieber gig. I exhaled through my cheeks, amazed at how loud they could squeal and how long they could keep talking about the same subject. I bought an ice cream at the park stand and sat at a bench, in the sunshine, to enjoy it. I groaned as I turned on my bench, seeing a movement out of the corner of my eye. Another schoolgirl?! Any more pop shit and I’m outta here. I watched her sit beside me, open her Styrofoam box and get out her plastic set. I didn’t get any pop shit. In fact, I didn’t get a single word. I smiled at the back of her white-blonde head, seeing only the tip of her nose as she tilted her face up to let the sun warm her while she slowly chewed. What I had at first taken to be a uniform jacket was, in fact, a plain leather coat. A kid that appreciates peace and quiet? Hallelujah.

  MARA

  I swallowed, a little nervous around this guy; he was kinda nice looking with large, bright-green eyes and sandy-blond hair. He wore a red T under a denim coat and jeans and had an outdoorsy look about him. He reminded me of a picture I’d seen on National Geographic: a long distance traveler, or desert hiker, or surfer, or something like that. He did look a rough sort with fading bruises on his face and his nose crooked like it had just been mended. When he leaned his forearms on the bench head, I saw there were bruises all over his hairy hands as well, especially around the knuckles, too numerous to be accidents. I went back to eating and cloud-watching. That one looked like a lion’s tail, the one next to it like a bird’s nest. A strange, chip, chip, chipping noise brough
t me back to the present. The guy had, from somewhere, produced a knife. At first, I went on high alert, but then I saw he was just using it to carve chunks out of this square of wood he was holding. I watched for a while, interested, as he whittled it, every so often looking up at the closest tree. As he carved out the bottom into roots, I understood: he was copying it.

  KYLE

  “Fuck,” I cursed as another root went wrong, causing me to cut my thumb. This thing was proving a bastard to get right.“Sorry,” I said to the kid as I sucked the injury. Scowling, I put the knife away, not in the mood, and watched awhile as she ate the last of her meal, got up and crossed the lawn to a trash can some way off. Forgetting her, I sunbathed some more. Something made me look suddenly to my right. People were running towards a gaping hole where the grass and earth had collapsed.

  “What’s happened?” I asked some guy running towards the place.

  “A kid’s fallen in there.”

  “God!” I muttered. It was Blondie, I was sure of it. I joined the crowd standing at the edge of the hole.

  “Hello!” some guy hollered down, his hands cupped around his mouth. There was no reply and no way to see down there: it was too deep and dark.

  “I’ve already called the firemen,” the guy said. Will they get here quick enough if the kid was badly injured, though?

  “I’m going down there,” I said, pulling off my denim jacket.

  “You don’t know how deep this thing is,” the hollering guy protested.

  “Look, I’m the biggest and the heaviest here; if I can find a foothold, anyone can.” Without waiting for further argument, I lowered myself down into the hole, an inch at a time, bracing my hands and feet against the dirt. This is crazy. What do you want to be the hero for?

  “Kid,” I called down, “make a noise so I can find you.”

  “I’m down here,” a young female voice replied. “I think I twisted my ankle.” I tried to peer deeper into the gloom. I was looking up at the others, standing above me, to suggest maybe getting some rope, when the dirt under my hands and feet collapsed completely and, with a shout of dismay, I plunged down into the pitch black.

  MARA

  I dodged, my twisted ankle screaming in pain, as a huge figure blocked out the small circle of light high above me a split-second before landing on the patch of dirt floor I’d been standing on a moment before. If I’d still been there I’d have been crushed under him. This man, the same guy from the bench, was really tall; when he stood his head almost reached up to the cave’s roof. Raising one of his hands, he brushed some loose sand out of his blond hair and looked up, seeing me.

  “Hi,” he smiled. “It’s alright, kid; I’m here to help.”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. You’re massive. We both began looking around for a way out.

  KYLE

  “Hey!” someone called from above. “Are you alright?”

  “Yeah, we’re fine,” I hollered back. “We just can’t get out.”

  “The firemen are on their way.”

  “Right.” This is one weird kid. When I’d got my first look at her face, or as good a look as I could get in this gloom, I’d thought she was somehow glowing. Her face was white, as white as salt, her eyes were…pink? And the hair framing it, as I’d seen already, was a shade of very pale blonde. I noticed her hands were the same: chalk-white.

  “You okay?” She limped a little but found she could walk. She nodded.

  “Hey, kid, what’s that?”

  “What’s what?” she asked. I pointed to what looked like a large, shiny, metallic point, just visible in the spotlight shining down on it. We approached cautiously and, as our eyes adjusted, saw that this point was the face of a large, sleek cigar-shaped…something. Was it some kind of jet? Its shape reminded me of one. But as we walked all the way around it, we saw that there were no wings, only four thin spines at the back and a dorsal fin on the top. The landing gear was a series of metal spikes stabbing into the dirt floor and there was some kind of doorway above the metal spikes but I couldn’t see any ladder or steps or any way to get up there. There was however a hand imprint beside this “door” and I wondered if that was how to open it. I proved myself right in this when I walked up to the door and put my own hand on the outline. With a hiss of compressed air, a steel ramp unfolded and touched down on the ground with a soft thump.

  “What’s going on down there?” a voice from the hole asked. We ignored it. Above the ramp, a door slid open revealing a brightly-lit corridor. I started to walk up it but the kid stopped me.

  “What? Whassa matter?”

  “We don’t know what’s up there.”

  “Nooo, that’s why I’m going up: to find out.” We looked back at this thing, wondering what to do next. Finally she let me go, nodding. She was right though; I didn’t know what was up there. So, I took caution, creeping slowly up the ramp while keeping the kid behind me. Wow! I felt like the nineteen-year-old air force recruit, seated at his first cockpit again. But this thing made the jet I’d been flying, and the Starship Enterprise, look like something out of a Charlton Heston movie.

  “Y’know, kid,” I suddenly grinned, “I think I might have found a way out of here.”

  MARA

  We sat in the cockpit of our new discovery, staring at all the buttons, gears and twinkling lights in front of us. I looked around at all the gleaming, polished chrome, wondering what the story behind this thing’s design was. The outside was beautifully streamlined, all fins and aero-dynamic sails. The inside was all glowing buttons, and cupboards, and beds, and couches. We both walked through to the cockpit part and looked out the wide ‘V’-shaped window at the earth walls all around us. And at the two, leather seats. In front of them was all the buttons, on a large control panel.. They were all different colors as well: red, purple, yellow, orange, pink, green and blue. Okay, here goes nothing, I thought to myself as the man sat down and grabbed what looked like a joystick, a large black thing with a rounded head and two cones for handles, in front of his chair.

  “You might wanna strap in,” he told me. I climbed into the seat next to him and put on the two seatbelt things that fitted in an ‘X’ across my chest, not in one strap. I sighed as I saw that, as I was short, the console blocked my view of the window. He gingerly twisted the stick in his hands like a steering wheel. My stomach dropped as the whole thing suddenly rose at least ten feet off the ground and hovered in mid-air just under the roof of the cavern, when he took his hand off.

  “Whoa,” I whispered to myself. Grinning like it was Christmas, he spun the joystick and the whole thing spun with it so that the nose was pointing upwards at the hole in the ceiling so fast I nearly threw up. Now that we were near the top, I could see the people looking down through the hole in the ceiling we’d made falling in here. They must have been able to see us; we were hovering right beneath them.. But as he inched our new toy closer, bumping it a few times on the dirt walls and ceiling, I could see that they weren’t looking at us at all, they were still peering right past us down into the gloom, wondering where we were. It was like they were blind or something. He pulled the joystick back and the ship reversed a few yards. Then, before I could say or do anything but scream, he pulled the throttle forward, full-speed. The thing, moving faster than a speeding bullet, burst through the ceiling of the cavern, slamming our backs into the seats as we flew straight for the bright blue sky like a lightning bolt.

  KYLE

  The kid flinched and pulled away when I put a hand on her shoulder.

  “Hey, it’s okay. We’re alright, kid.” She slowly let her hands fall from her face and saw what I was seeing.

  “We’re in space,” I grinned.

  “What?” She slowly unlocked her belt, stood on her seat and put her small hands on the sill of the cockpit window so as to see out at not only stars, but planets and comets and all the constellations. The whole solar system laid out
before us.

  “Whoa,” she breathed, her eyes as wide as saucers. They’re beautiful eyes. They were pink, I noticed again; a shade I’d associated more with coral than eye color. I nodded, my eyebrows raised, as we both took in the awesome bulk of Venus. The planet’s color suits her eyes. . It too was rose-colored, but a dusty rose with swirls of lighter pink clouds swirling above its surface. She turned back to look at me in wonder.

  “I know,” I smiled, shaking my head,“I can’t believe it either. Our own spaceship!” We headed, slowly and cautiously, back to Earth. I watched as the distant shapeless green dots, set in the huge blue mass, got closer and closer, becoming the islands and continents I’d only ever seen on maps. Could we go to them, I wondered as we flew towards them in utter silence. I soon could point out landmarks: towers, skyscrapers, the country manor, the park and the woods kids were playing in. All the places I knew so well like I’d never seen them before.

  MARA

  I felt like I was living in a childhood dream. I’d just gone into space. I mean, holy cow! I committed every detail to memory: the twinkling stars scattered among the clouds, like glitter on black paper, around the vast, cloudy bulk of Venus, Earth’s ugly sister, with all its swirling dust patterns, the white, winding, gleaming length of the Milky Way. I recalled the sun as it had shone huge, fiery and bright. It too had its own aura of stars surrounded by clouds lightened to cerulean blues, bright crimsons and dusty roses, just like Venus, by the bright rays and all peppered by the gleaming constellations. Could we keep this thing? I wanted to. I’d never wanted anything more. To think only a few minutes ago, I’d been happy just walking in the park. We touched down in a clearing behind my house, snapping a few tree branches in the process, and walked out to take a proper look at our very own spacecraft…And we could see absolutely nothing except the entrance we’d just walked out of. We looked at each other, confused. The doorway seemed to just stand there, suspended in mid-air. When I walked forward with my hand out, I could tell that the ship was still there; I could touch it and I could see the holes in the grass, made by its landing gear.