Frostbitten (29 page)

“Queen of poisons’
meant to...” Anastasia muttered, trying desperately to remember the rest of
Julia’s chant.

“Are you okay?” Frost
asked, looking at her in concern.

“Queen of poisons’
meant to burn!” Anastasia continued, excited that she’d recalled the first
line. “Heal, forget, then...” Creasing her forehead, she frowned, frustrated
because she knew that there were merely a few words remaining.

“Seriously, Anastasia,
you’re freaking me out.”

“Then all is done!” she
cried, finishing the verse. She repeated the words, contemplating what they
could mean until finally, it dawned on her. “Oh my gosh, Frost!” she exclaimed,
feeling a renewed sense of hope. “I think I know how to stop the
transformation!”

Racing against the
setting of the sun, Anastasia and Frost made their way through Cedar Falls
Woods on the snowmobile they’d left at the edge of Hartfield. Increasing the
difficulty of their ride was the presence of a strong, howling wind which was
quickly growing in strength. This prevailing wind seemed to be mocking them, as
if morbidly foreshadowing the arrival of four new werewolves.

Not if I have anything
to do about it,
Anastasia thought, her heart beating a
little faster as the cabin came into view.

Bringing the snowmobile
to a stop, Anastasia and Frost quickly dismounted, but before they could enter
the cabin, something caught their eyes. There, off to the side, was a black
tarp covering a large object. Anastasia had only taken one step forward when
Frost pulled her back. Noticing that Symon’s paw was sticking out slightly from
under the tarp, she felt her stomach churn. She didn’t want to think about the
reason why her grandfather had relocated him outside.

“Come on,” Frost said,
obviously trying hard to ignore his emotions in order to stay level-headed.

Together, Anastasia and
Frost rushed to the cabin’s door. Upon entering they found her grandfather
standing in the middle of the room, his face stained with tears as he pointed a
rifle straight at Leo’s chest. Immediately, he looked up at Anastasia and
Frost, the desperation in his eyes clearly visible.

“Did you find a cure?”
Mr. Lockhart asked, his hand shaking as he continued to hold the rifle in a
shooting position.

“Yes,” Anastasia heard
herself say confidently, despite having no way of knowing if her plan would
work. “I’m going to need a bowl and matches.”

Finally lowering his
rifle, Anastasia’s grandfather used his free hand to open his hunting pack
which sat upon the table. He retrieved a box of matches, and after tossing them
into a nearby bowl, he offered the items to Anastasia.

“What are these things
for?” Frost questioned, sounding equally confused and anxious.

“When you asked Julia
how to stop the transformation, she gave us the answer in her song,” Anastasia
explained, while opening the locket and allowing the wolfsbane to fall into the
bowl without her ever touching it. “This plant is wolfsbane, and according to
Julia, it must be burned if the victims are to heal and forget. You’ll want to
cover your nose before we begin – this stuff is toxic.”

One by one, Anastasia,
Frost and Mr. Lockhart pulled up their coat collars, leaving their eyes
exposed. Then, Anastasia struck a match and threw it into the bowl. The
wolfsbane instantly burst into an unnaturally bright flame, creating clouds of
black smoke which swirled wildly despite the lack of wind. Slowly walking
amongst the fallen hunters, Anastasia carefully wafted her hand through the
smoke, making sure their faces were well-exposed to the fumes. As the flame
began to diminish, Anastasia kept smudging the hunters, until eventually,
nothing more than black ash remained.

Standing back,
Anastasia placed the sooty bowl on the table and then stared at the hunters,
waiting for something to happen. The minutes passed by painfully slow, causing
her to fear that the wolfsbane hadn’t worked or, worse, she’d killed them with
the plant’s poison. Concerned, Anastasia peered closely at them, relieved to
discover that they were at least still breathing.

“Please wake up,”
Anastasia muttered softly, her eyes especially falling upon Mr. Fairbanks,
“preferably as humans.”

In response, Anastasia
heard a low moan. Although it had hardly been audible, she leaned further
toward Mr. Fairbanks, expecting him to awaken at any moment. Yet, he stayed in
the same state, looking as if he was neither alive nor dead. The moan came
again, this time louder and more distinct. She now realized that it was Leo
who’d made the noise.

Anastasia, Frost and
Mr. Lockhart hurried to Leo’s side, watching anxiously as his eyes fluttered
open. Appearing confused, Leo scanned his surroundings before attempting to sit
up with some difficulty. Mr. Lockhart and Frost steadied him, but Anastasia was
too preoccupied with the moans coming from Pete and Mike as they, too, began to
rise.

“Why am I here?” Leo
asked, his voice hoarse.

“Don’t you remember?”
Frost pried gently, clearly trying to hide the significance of his question.

Tension filled the room
as they waited for Leo’s answer. His brow was deeply furrowed, and he was quiet
for what seemed like far too long. Then slowly, he shook his head, while still
looking very confused.

“What happened to us?”
Mike demanded, while standing up somewhat unsteadily and then helping Pete to
do the same.

“The four of you were
hurt during the hunt,” Mr. Lockhart explained. “We had the wolf surrounded, and
he wouldn’t go down without a fight. You were all so courageous, and without
you, I would’ve never been able to kill it.”

“The wolf is dead?”
Pete pressed nervously.

Mr. Lockhart nodded.
“What’s important now is that we return home. It was fortunate that I found
Frost and Anastasia’s hunting cabin, but our families don’t know where we’ve
been, and they’ll be starting to worry. Our snowmobiles are outside. Will you
men be able to ride back to Hartfield?”

“Of course,” Mike spoke
for all of them, “but first we want to see the wolf.”

“I can assure you that
you won’t miss it,” Mr. Lockhart said to Mike, before turning to the other
hunters. “Grab your packs, men. There’s still plenty of food and water inside
of them.”

“I’m not leaving
without Fairbanks,” Leo stated, looking at him with great unease. “What the
hell kind of injuries has he sustained?”

“You have your own
wounds to be concerned with,” Mr. Lockhart advised, gesturing toward Leo’s
bloody shoulder.

“I said I’m not
leaving.”

“Anastasia and Frost
are taking him to Hartfield Hospital,” Mr. Lockhart told Leo, obviously
thinking fast, “and you’re holding them back.”

Not looking entirely
convinced, Leo picked up his pack and followed Mike and Pete out of the cabin.
Now that they were alone, Anastasia’s grandfather turned to her, offering his
rifle to her. Taken aback, she made no attempt to reach for it.

“If Mr. Fairbanks
doesn’t wake up, I need you to promise me that you’ll kill him.”

“What?” Anastasia
gasped, shocked that her grandfather would ask her to do such a horrible thing.
“I...I can’t.”

“I’ve seen what these
things can do, and it would only take one unruly werewolf to destroy this town.
Please, Anastasia, promise me.”

Reluctantly, Anastasia
took the rifle, but she refused to promise anything. Instead, she said firmly,
“I’m going to give him more time.”

“Not too much,” Mr.
Lockhart warned, before kissing Anastasia’s forehead and then closing the cabin
door behind him.

Anastasia immediately
placed the rifle on the table, hating the way it felt in her hands. When she
turned around, she saw Frost standing over Mr. Fairbanks, his body language
tell-tale signs of his disappointment and distress.

“Why didn’t he awaken
like the others?” Anastasia wondered aloud.

With a heavy sigh,
Frost shrugged. “All I know is that it’s going to be a very long night.”

* * *

When dawn broke the
following day, Anastasia awoke to find herself only somewhat rested. She’d
spent last night falling in and out of terrifying, abstract dreams which made
absolutely no sense to her. All she remembered was being cold, lost and scared.
That feeling of fear suddenly shifted from Anastasia’s dreams and into reality
as she saw Frost placing a blanket over Mr. Fairbanks.

“Is he...?” Anastasia
couldn’t finish her words.

“He’s alive,” Frost
reassured her. “I’m worried about his temperature, though. One minute he’s
almost too hot to touch, then the next, he’s cold. I’ve never seen anything
like this.”

Anastasia felt her
heart sink upon hearing Frost’s unusual description of Mr. Fairbanks. Although
her recent encounter with him had been horrible, in his own obscured way he’d
thought that his actions were in her best interest. She also couldn’t forget
the fact that he was her best friend’s father. Straightaway, Anastasia knew
what she had to do.

“I need you to pick up
Chloe and bring her here,” Anastasia instructed, while searching through the
pack her grandfather had left for her. Finding a mini notebook and pen, she
scribbled a letter to Chloe, urging her to come to the cabin. “Give her this,”
she said, handing him the note.

“Why?” Frost asked
bluntly.

“Well, I don’t know how
to drive a snowmobile, and even if I did, I can’t remember the way through the
woods.”

“That’s not what I
meant, Anastasia. What would be the point of bringing Chloe here? She wouldn’t
want to see her dad in this state.”

“She deserves the
truth, and in case Mr. Fairbanks doesn’t wake up, she’s the one who should make
a final decision.”

“You’re right,” Frost
admitted after a moment of silent deliberation. “It’s just, I can’t imagine
leaving you. This last week we’ve been together almost constantly, and I don’t
want it any other way.”

Unexpectedly, Anastasia
blinked back tears. Those words were the sweetest she’d ever heard, but right
now she had to be sensible. “If we can’t manage a few hours apart, how will we
cope when we return to our separate homes?” She turned her head away from him,
not really wanting to hear his answer.

Upset, Frost gently
kissed her lips. “Stay safe while I’m gone,” he muttered, before taking leave
of the cabin.

With nothing else to do
but wait, Anastasia filled those long, lonely hours fretting endlessly. She
worried about Mr. Fairbanks waking up and what subsequent actions she’d be
forced to take. On the other hand, she was more afraid that he would never
awaken, leaving him in that petrified state forever. Worst of all was Chloe’s
impending arrival. She would soon be seeing her father like this, and
unfortunately, Anastasia still hadn’t figured out the best way to tell her the
whole unbelievable truth.

As Anastasia heard an
approaching snowmobile, she knew that there would be no more time for thinking.
Taking a deep breath and mustering all her courage, she stood up from the
rocking chair and opened the door. That’s when she saw Chloe, who looked
absolutely frantic as she hurried forward.

“Where is my dad?”
Chloe demanded, her face red from crying. “Leo told me you and Frost were
taking him to Hartfield Hospital, but when I went there, the staff said he’d
never been admitted. What the hell is going on, Anastasia?”

At a loss for words,
Anastasia stepped aside, revealing Mr. Fairbanks lying lifelessly on the floor
with the blanket still on top of him. As Chloe let out a shriek and fell to her
father’s side, Anastasia had to look away; she couldn’t bear to see her friend
in so much pain.

“Call an ambulance!”
Chloe screamed. “Quick!”

“You have to calm
down,” Frost told her.

Reluctantly, Anastasia
faced Chloe once again, knowing that she would have to intervene. “There’s no
point in calling for help,” she said softly.

“What is wrong with you
two?” Chloe cried, standing up and pulling her cell phone from her coat pocket
so she could dial 9-1-1. Immediately, the call failed since there was no
reception.

“Chloe, you have to
listen to me,” Anastasia begged. “What I’m about to say is hard to believe, but
I promise you it’s true. The Cedar Falls werewolf isn’t some myth – it’s real,
and your father was part of a group that was hunting it. During a fight, he and
some other men were bitten. Frost and I found a cure to stop them from becoming
werewolves, and it worked, with the exception of your father.”

Looking at Anastasia as
if she was crazy, Chloe suddenly slapped her across the face. “My dad could be
dying, and you’re making jokes?” she seethed in disbelief. “You disgust me!”

Tears stung in Anastasia’s
eyes as she placed her hand lightly against her burning cheek. She winced at
the pain of Chloe’s words and actions, unable to believe that her friend could
be so spiteful, especially toward her. Unfortunately, Anastasia had realized
too late that bringing Chloe here wasn’t her smartest idea.