Voices in the Snow by Darcy Coates

Author:Darcy Coates [Coates, Darcy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Owl Books
Published: 2019-11-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

Nothing tried to disturb Clare as she buckled on the snowshoes. She already wore the thick, puffy jacket Dorran had given her, and she zipped the spare over the top then pulled on the gloves. She didn’t have time for all of the other precautions she’d worn the previous trip—the extra layers of socks, the second pair of pants, the hat—but that didn’t matter. She only needed to get to her car.

The door was immensely heavy. She leaned her weight on the handle to wrench it open. On the other side, the snow drifts were up to her shoulders. Clare found a chair along one of the foyer’s walls and used it to climb out.

Cold wind buffeted her as soon as she tumbled down the embankment. Clare squeezed her eyes closed and took a moment to let herself acclimatise. In some ways, the freezing sting was nice. It distracted her from the way her insides felt like they were tearing themselves apart. She gave herself a second, then she got the snowshoes under herself and stood.

She remembered the way to the forest. When Dorran had led her out there, he’d taken her down the main driveway then speared off to pass the groundskeeper’s cottage. She followed the same path, struggling up one side of the dunes and skidding down the other.

Her body was worn down. Even though she’d been awake for less than two hours, she felt ready to collapse, close her eyes, and never open them again. The forest’s edge looked impossibly far away. The sun was nowhere near as warm as it had seemed from the windows. A hazy fog had spread over the sky, reducing visibility and giving the environment a sense of impending twilight.

She pushed the weariness down and instead grasped the kernel of pain and fear inside of herself. She squeezed it, making it hotter, and let it fuel her as she hiked towards the forest.

The groundskeeper’s hut was visible. The snow had abated slightly compared to the day she and Dorran had taken shelter in it, and more of the stone walls were exposed. The little tunnel they’d dug to the door had been thoroughly filled in.

Walking past the structure was painful. She tried not to relive that night when they’d shared the mattress and huddled in front of the fire as the elements assaulted them from every direction. An internal assurance had told her they would be fine if they just stayed together. That memory hurt too much. She thought it would hurt for a long time to come.

Past the groundskeeper’s cottage, the ground levelled out. Clare guessed it was a clearing ahead of the forest. She fixed her eyes on the tree trunks, which were nothing but a blur of grey and shadows through the snow, and kept her numb, shaking legs moving.

The sky seemed to be growing darker. Clare watched it with one eye, but she didn’t know what she would do if it swept over her. She wasn’t going back to the house.

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