The Cabin

“The Ahtna people told stories of how the Aurora would make their people crazy and cause them to attack others, sometimes rendering entire villages desolate. Men, women, children – all dead in unspeakable acts of violence. On other occasions, they would fall under its spell and simply walk away into the night, never to be seen again. Yet another report from the 1890s tells of a fur trapper who came across a group of Eyak people who were trying to restrain one of their own. The Shaman said the man had looked up at the Aurora and his eyes turned to silver and his mind was not his own. He was possessed of incredible strength and a blistering rage. He had killed three of the men before the others could contain him…”

Excerpt from “The Northern Lights: An Oral History” by Dr Rob Schroeder.

****

As the world burned around them, they walked.

For how long, he couldn’t remember. Later all he could recall was the biting cold that seem to sap every last once of energy from his body. Each step seemed to be harder than the last, yet each step was taking them closer to some sort of salvation. Or so they hoped. The shroud-like canopy of the woodland surrounded them with a near-deafening silence; yet he knew they weren’t alone. Furtive glances over his shoulder were becoming second nature to him. The biting sting of the cold wind had been replaced by a pervading and overriding sense of dread.

“…need to…stop…can’t…” the weak, strained tone of the voice next to him brought him to a halt. She was leaning against a tree, clutching at her side. He could see her skin had taken on a sort of deathly grey hued pallor yet the sweat was visible on her forehead. Her knees buckled, dropping her into the snow beneath them with a soft cry. He reached for her, desperation and fear in his voice.

“We can’t stop…” He lifted her, hauling her up to her feet and carrying her, her free arm looped around his shoulders for support. The first few steps were the most awkward; the most uncoordinated. “We need to keep moving – you saw how those things move; they won’t stay in the town for long.” As they moved through the trees he could feel the sensation of her lungs expanding and contracting within her chest. Each breath seemed more laboured than the last.

“Do you think…there’s anyone…actually out there?” Her question rattled around his mind for a moment. He shook his head almost as if to discard any doubts of his own.

“There has to be – we both saw it, remember that plume of smoke from behind the trees,” He tried to sound confident amidst their struggles. “It’s got to be something – a cabin, a shed – something. There’s someone there – I know it. If it was a building burning there would have been more smoke. It was a narrow plume – like the sort you get from a chimney.” For a minute he almost believed himself. “You know we haven’t actually been formally introduced. I’m Eddie but everyone calls me Sparks around here.”

“…*koff*…Fiona…everyone calls me…*koff koff* Fi…”

“Pleased to meet you Fi,” Eddie replied as he felt her slipping from his grasp, prompting him to secure his arm around her waist more fervently.

“Yeah…” she spluttered. “You’re the basketball…player…*koff koff*…right?”

“That’s me,” Eddie looked around as he answered. “Now I’d never seen snow until I came here on that scholarship. Can’t stand the stuff now. And the cold too – never felt anything like it. Sure as shit nothing like that back home,” he looked over his shoulder, fearing he’d heard something. “But you’ve got that light thing…”

“…the Aurora…?”

“Yeah – yeah, that’s it. The Aurora – ain’t never seen anything like that in my life. Now we got folks acting all crazy like it’s some lame ass zombie movie – I’d be safer back in Olympia.”

They continued to make their way for a few more minutes without exchanging further words, their path taking them up a slight incline between the trees. As they struggled through the deepening snow he thought he could hear something rustling off to their right. Initially he ignored it – passing it off as the noise generated by the friction between the material of their jackets as they rubbed against each other – until he heard it again for a second time though as they struggled to overcome a large chunk of timber that blocked their path.

“What…was that?” The hushed words slipping from Fiona’s lips made them both freeze in their tracks. For a moment nothing happened – Eddie realised he was even holding his breath as he listened keenly to their surroundings. After what felt like an eternity, they heard the noise again only this time to their left. Something was scurrying through the forest cover, moving quickly in their direction but camouflaged by the shadows provided by the trees. He lowered Fiona so she rested against the timber before pulling the crowbar free from its makeshift home, secured by his belt against his jeans. He brandished it in a threatening pose, hoping it would be enough to scare any would-be attacker yet knowing it was most likely inadequate for its intended task.

When it came, both Eddie and Fiona looked at it with a mixture of fear, then relief in their eyes. Breaking free from the treeline was a small snowshoe rabbit; the soft white fur masking its appearance until the very last moment as it broke from the cover. It took a moment to look at the two humans opposite it, tilting its head slightly and twitching its nose before lifting its ears. Upon detecting some hitherto unheard sound, it bolted straight past Eddie and back into the safety of the opposing treeline. At this point, Eddie let out the breath his lungs had been straining to contain before looking at Fiona.

“Come on, that rabbit heard something,” He said as he struggled to get her to her feet again. “We need to haul ass.”

****

He watched as they broke through the tree line. To say that he had been aware of their presence prior to arrival would have been a lie – he was simply in the right place at the right time. He had sat on that porch for countless hours in the last week, losing himself in the sounds surrounding the small cabin in the clearing. Each night he had looked up into the clear sky and seen the vivid colours dancing; and each night it filled him with an unspeakable dread. There had always been questions about why the antiquated rifle that once belonged to his grandfather had been hung above the fireplace; now, it was an almost ever-present in his company. Questions that had been brushed off with a dismissive “you don’t need to worry” or “I don’t plan on using it” in as calm a manner as he could muster. He knew they didn’t believe him, but he didn’t have time to explain it properly to them. He knew what was coming. He feared what could happen. He just hoped that there would be time to make sure he was prepared.

Time, he mused, that had just ran out.

Now his gaze was locked on the two figures that struggled through the thick snow that seemed to have drifted in that one area. With each step they made towards the cabin he felt the tension in his chest ratchet up a notch. Each step made his heart pound a little faster. Each step made his breathing just that little bit quicker than before. By the time they were close enough for him to clearly make out their features, the rifle was firmly gripped in his hands.

“That’s close enough!” he shouted, hoping the volume in his voice would drown out the uncertainty he felt in his stomach.

“Please, please – we need help…” the figure to the right replied. The voice was male; the tone pleading and weakened, no doubt by the exertion required to drag themselves through the three feet of snow. “…you have to help…”

“I don’t have to do anything,” he barked back, raising the weapon just enough to threaten. “What you have to do, right now, is turn the fuck around and head back. Forget you ever found this place.” He noticed the figure on the left swaying to the left, then to the right slightly – something that made him feel uneasy. “I’m not warning you again; just turn around and go.”

“Look, you don’t know what’s going on out there. People are acting crazy, there’s something wrong with them and…”

“You’re right – and I don’t want to know either,” He cut off the figure on the right abruptly. “I’ve asked you nicely…”

“…Hannah…” the figure on the left called out – the female voice seemed ethereal, almost disconnected from the situation. The sound prompted him to pull the rifle up to his shoulder, alternately pointing it at each of them. “…Hannah…” his heart was pounding in his ears now; his mouth suddenly dry. The female figure stumbled forwards, reaching out with her hands as her companion tried to slow her progress. He held her arm, trying to restrain her from taking any further steps.

“Fiona, listen, I think we should…” There was no response from her other than to try and move forward. “Fi, come on, he’s got a gun…” He shook her slightly, feeling like she wasn’t responding to him. He found himself lightly shaking her, trying to snap her out of this strange fugue state she was in yet only managing to get a look at her now glassy eyes that seemed to have an unearthly silvery tone to them. He felt his hand loosen a little. “…Hannah…” the tone was more insistent now, almost shrill and somehow she surged forward. Slipping his grip, she bolted for the porch some thirty feet away. The guardian of the threshold took a step back at this, swinging the rifle towards her.

“…shit…” he muttered as he adjusted his aim.

Blam!

The first shot struck the ground behind her and to the left. He quickly pulled the bolt action back, chambering another round as she seemed to make up the ground between them at a rate he hadn’t anticipated. Twenty two feet away from the porch and her companion cringed from the sound of the bullet in the air.

Blam!

The second shot struck her in the shoulder, spinning her around like a child’s toy as the recoil impacted on his aim; the arc of blood from the wound momentarily making a perfect crescent shape through the air. Not that he had time to appreciate the beauty in that gruesome sight as his fingers struggled with the bolt action once more. Fourteen feet and still she kept coming, temporarily knocked off her course but managing to resume it far quicker than he would have liked. “…Hannah…”

Blam!

The third shot struck her in the side of the skull, tearing through the paper thin flesh and smashing into the bone. This was followed by a thin plume of grey-white coloured material and yet more blood. Her forward momentum carried through, even as he struggled with the bolt action for a fourth time, as she stumbled forward and crashed onto the steps at the threshold of the porch. He slammed the round into the chamber and pointed the barrel at her body, waiting for something to happen.

He could hear his heart still pounding in his ears, even with the sounds of the gunshots echoing around them. He struggled to contain his breathing, lest he may vomit at any moment. Something in his peripheral vision drew his attention – and once more the rifle was at his shoulder.

“Shit, no! No!” the other stranger called out, his hands raised in the air and his head turned away to the right from the crouched position he had assumed. “Jesusjesusjesuschrist…please don’t…” the rifle was lowered slightly. The stranger took the silence as a sign to turn his head back, looking forward through squinted eyes. He saw the man on the porch looking at him, his body shaking. After what seemed like a lifetime, he lowered the rifle. He stepped back; placing the firearm against the chair he had been sat in and picked up a shovel that had been resting against the railings. Considering the tool for a moment, he threw it out into the snow.

“You can bury her over there,” he gestured toward the treeline to the west of the building. “By the trees, next to the others. Once you’ve done that, come inside.”