Marcus Pelegrimas - Blood Blade

Before the truck came to a stop, the passenger door swung open and a burly man with a thick beard looked out and said, “Looks like all of ya are here. My name’s Sam and this is my chariot. Hop on in the back.”

Cole waited for the others to load their gear into the truck before climbing up after them. By now he barely even felt the weight of his duffel bag as he lugged it behind him. On the other hand, he couldn’t feel his toes either.

“Are you sure I’m in the right place?” he asked as he dug his ticket from inside his jacket and held it out for Sam to see.

Sam nodded without giving more than a passing glance. “Yep. This is the place.”

“I thought this was a bigger group.”

“The four of you will be meeting up with the rest of the group about sixty or seventy miles from here. From there, you’ll all head out together.”

“The four of us?” Cole asked as two possibilities drifted through his mind.

“Yeah. Them other two with the funny hats and that guy with all the firepower are headed for the same place. All of us need to make it to Yorktown Lodge, and it gets real hard to find our way in the dark, so let’s not burn any more daylight.”

Cole looked into the cab of the truck and took a quick inventory of all the radios, transponders, and GPS trackers bolted on or beneath the dashboard. “Isn’t that what all that’s for?”

Having burned through all of his friendliness, Sam snapped, “Just get in, all right? This ain’t exactly LAX, and there ain’t a row of cabs lined up to take you to the spa. This is a little airport that’s about to close. You’re all headed to the same camp, and we’re not going to let you get lost. If you want to go home, run back into that building over there before the owner of this airport heads out for his dinner.”

For a moment Cole considered following Sam’s advice. When he looked back at the airport, he was quickly reminded that it wasn’t much more than a four-room shack. The plane that had brought him this far was rolling to the opposite end of the runway and gunning its engines amid a geyser of smoke and a roar that was nearly lost in the cold wind that whipped over the flat stretch of land.

Thankfully, his stomach was no longer churning and the fresh air was doing him more good than the strongest brew from the coffee shop across the street from his office. Leaning forward, he asked, “Could I at least get you to dump those schoolboys into a snowdrift somewhere along the way?”

Sam grinned and patted him on the shoulder as he climbed back into his seat. “I’ll see what I can do, buddy.”

By the time Cole walked around to the back of the truck, Brad was jumping down to greet him.

“I thought you’d gotten lost,” Brad said. “You need some help with that bag?”

“Nah, it’s all right. I’ve carried it this far, so I can carry it into a truck.”

“Actually, you’ll need to carry it up to the top of the truck. The Great White Hunter’s taken up almost every bit of space inside.”

Cole squinted through the glare of the snow on the ground and tried to make out the shapes huddled in the darkness beneath the truck’s tarp. He could see the quiet man sitting with his back against the farthest end of the cab, his bags gathered around him like a fort. The frat boys didn’t seem to mind sitting in each other’s laps, and Gerald had staked out a spot for himself. That left just enough room for Brad and himself. Unless he wanted to balance his duffel bag on top of his head, Cole knew it had to go somewhere else besides the back.

“God damn it,” he muttered.

Brad let out a sympathetic laugh. “Come on. I’ll climb up and you can hand it to me.”

“Don’t bother. I can haul myself up.” But before Cole was even finished saying that, Brad had already taken hold of the tarp’s frame and pulled himself onto the steel arch.

Cole’s duffel bag was quickly brought up and strapped onto the truck using a length of rope provided by Sam. He then barely managed to wedge himself in between Brad and the cold, rusty tailgate before the truck lurched forward.

Once the exhaust thinned out a bit, Cole was treated to a view that constantly shifted between brilliantly clear skies to rolling plains of snow. Scents from the truck mingled with the crisp taste of uncivilized air. He had smelled trees and seen snow plenty of times before, but this was something else. To compare this to the stuff back home would have been like comparing Mom’s homemade cookies to the sweetened disks that came along with a fast food value meal.

For the first few hours of the drive, there was nothing but miles of flat, white ground in all directions. As the sun worked its way across the sky, the truck rumbled past trees and frozen lakes. Cole even glimpsed mountains here and there. He wasn’t sure which mountains they were or if they were just big hills that he’d mistaken for mountains, but that didn’t make them any less breathtaking. He spotted a few animals running freely along the side of the road. One of them was some sort of bear, loping through the snow faster than a creature its size had any right to go.

The frat boys never stopped talking.

The quiet man stayed quiet.

Brad and Gerald swapped a few words now and then, but Cole couldn’t take his eyes from the view.

The longer he gazed outside, the more he wanted to see. Before he could give his eyes a rest, the sun dipped beneath the horizon and the breath was taken from his lungs all over again. Brilliant hues of orange and red became even crisper after being reflected off the pristine snow. Another bear sat a ways from the road, watching the truck pass with mild interest. Only after the shadows overpowered the light did Cole shift his focus back to the inside of the truck.

There was no change in the quiet man, but the frat boys had finally shut the hell up. Cole couldn’t have asked for anything more.

“We should be there before too much longer,” Brad said. “How’d you sleep?”

“I didn’t,” Cole replied.

“You haven’t moved for hours.”

“I know. It’s been great.”

“For Christ’s sake, leave him be,” Gerald grumbled. “You talk any more and you’ll wake up them two little shits with the stupid hats.”

“We’re here,” Sam said cheerily. “Get your stuff and head for the lodge.”

When he lifted his head, every muscle in Cole’s neck creaked like a bunch of gears that were trying to turn after being frozen in place. He, along with the rest of the men, jumped out and made their way outside amid a cavalcade of grunts and groans. The night was darker than anything he had ever seen. Even though the stars glittered overhead like diamonds on a jeweler’s cloth, that wasn’t nearly enough to put a dent in the inky blackness that had settled over the world. When he looked up, Cole thought he could see into eternity. When he looked back down, he could barely see the duffel bag that had been tossed to the ground near his feet.

“There’ll be food in the lodge,” Sam said.

Cole looked to where some of the others were headed and saw a large shack with smoke drifting up from the roof.

“That’s the lodge?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Brad said as he walked by. “Cozy, isn’t it?”

“Not exactly how I would describe it.”

Gerald was the next to walk by. He carried one pack over his shoulder and used a worn stick to keep his footing. “There’s food in there,” he said. “I can smell it.”

The quiet man was last. He didn’t seem to mind the cold as he lugged his bags slowly through the snow while looking carefully in every direction. When his eyes settled upon Cole, he stared him down until Cole looked away. Only then did the quiet man resume his shuffling journey toward the lodge.