Cobble, A. C [Benjamin Ashwood 02] Endless Flight by A. C. Cobble

Author:A. C. Cobble [Cobble, A. C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2016-12-05T00:00:00+00:00

Bitter Cold

Knee-deep snow and a bitter chill greeted them when they woke. Ben’s breath puffed in front of his face in a white cloud. His cheeks and nose felt numb to the touch.

Rhys had already started stoking the fire. As soon as everyone was awake, he told them whatever tracks were there last night had disappeared under the freshly fallen snow.

Breakfast was quick and cold. They wanted to get moving as soon as possible.

Ben and Rhys untied the tarps and shook off the heavy snow. They were specially treated to repel water. They were sturdy, but Ben worried how much snow they could really take before leaking.

Rhys remarked, “We’ll need to find better shelter from now on. We can’t camp out in this every night and expect to stay healthy and rested.”

Towaal overheard and Ben saw her grimace. He knew she wanted speed, but speed was pointless if they ended up frozen to death.

Again, Ben glanced around to see if anyone was taking out his or her snow boots. No one did. Instead, Grunt went in front and broke a trail through the knee-deep powder and they all followed closely behind in his footsteps. By mid-morning, they switched and Ben took the lead. They rotated throughout the day so the trailbreaker didn’t get too exhausted.

At midday, a painful ache set into Ben’s legs and his toes were burning.

“As long as you can feel them, you’re okay,” assured Grunt. “When you stop feeling them, shout out. That’s when we need to do something about it.”

Ben groaned and stomped his feet hard. A jolt of mild pain shot up from where his frozen foot impacted the ground and he figured he was still all right.

After an afternoon break, Corinne took the lead and they kept following the same creek they had been for days now. It wasn’t straight. It meandered down from the north but had a wide bed. They made good time walking across the flat. Particularly now, walking through the trees would take twice as long because deep drifts of snow would form around the trunks.

Suddenly, Corinne held up her hand and stopped. The group watched her silently as she edged forward. Ben knew there was no immediate risk because she left her bow on her shoulder.

She waved them closer and they saw another set of tracks. This one was clearly from a wide, low-moving creature.

“That’s no deer,” joked Rhys grimly.

“Obviously,” snorted Corinne. “My concern is what was it doing down here? The creek is small, but the water isn’t completely frozen yet. Demons loathe water. It didn’t come for a drink.”

They all looked around but couldn’t see anything other than white snow, steep, shoulder-high banks where the creek rose to during the season, and a thick forest of birch trees beyond that—nothing that explained a demon’s movements.

Grunt muttered, “Who knows why it was down here. Who knows why demons do any of the things they do?”

Corinne turned to him. “Come on, Grunt. You’ve tracked more of these creatures than I have.

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