Frostbitten (26 page)

“Then we’re all
damned,” Mr. Fairbanks said sadly, while steadying his rifle and preparing to
fire at Frost.

“Frost, run!” Anastasia
shouted in terror as she struggled in Mr. Fairbanks’ grasp.

Anastasia’s cry was
overpowered by a loud, ferocious growl, followed by the presence of Symon. The
only way he could’ve gotten there was by jumping from the top of the gully, and
as he bounded toward them, it was clear that he was ready to fight.
Unfortunately, so were the hunters.

Taking aim, Mike and
Leo fired several shots at Symon, but his movements were so fast and erratic
that the bullets kept flying by him harmlessly. Bravely standing their ground,
both hunters continued their attempt for a clear shot, even up to the moment
when Symon pounced on Leo, causing him to fall. Almost simultaneously, Frost
sprang into action, taking Mike by surprise and knocking him over as well.

Having been overly
preoccupied with watching Symon dodge bullets
and
unsuccessfully trying
to free herself from Mr. Fairbanks, Anastasia hadn’t seen Frost transform.
However, she knew that he’d done it quickly because accepting his inner wolf
was the only way any of them were going to survive. Frost had proven this
perfectly since they’d now gained some control of the fight; Symon had Leo
pinned under his paws, and although Mike was slowly recovering from the blow,
his rifle had skidded across the snow.

As Frost circled Mike
to prevent him from getting up, it was apparent that he had reservations about
what he should do next. Anastasia knew that he didn’t want to harm Mike, but
did he really have a choice? As for Symon, his intentions were crystal clear as
he let out an unearthly howl and then sunk his fangs into Leo’s shoulder.

Leo’s shrill cry echoed
around the gully, causing Anastasia to shudder with repulsion. However, it was
what happened next that really freaked her out. After Symon’s bite, Leo’s body
immediately stiffened, leaving him looking like the world’s most realistic
statue. As he lay there motionlessly, it was impossible to tell if he was alive
or dead.

“Shoot him, Pete!” Mr.
Fairbanks yelled, unable to do the task himself as he fought to maintain his
hold on Anastasia.

Evidently out of his
element and suffering from shock, Pete hadn’t moved a muscle since Symon’s
arrival. However, Mr. Fairbanks harsh command was enough to break his trance,
and after quickly regaining his composure, Pete shot at Symon. The bullet
must’ve been close – very close. Nonetheless, Anastasia was certain that it
hadn’t hit Symon because he was now running furiously toward Pete.

With a powerful lunge,
Symon tackled Pete to the ground and then grunted in frustration as he slid
sideways on the icy snow. When he’d risen on his paws once again, he leapt for
the fallen hunter. In retaliation, Pete grabbed for his rifle, which lay beside
him after being knocked out of his hands. Clutching the rifle by the barrel, he
swung it against Symon’s ribs, creating a sickening thud.

Up until this moment,
Frost had lingered over an almost recovered Mike, hesitant and looking as if he
couldn’t bring himself to bite a human. However, when he’d heard the hit which
Symon had sustained, he gave Mike a threatening glare and then rushed to his
father’s aid.

Growling in a deeper
tone, Symon struck Pete across the chest, ripping his coat and quite possibly
his flesh. Down but definitely not out, Pete grunted loudly and began turning
the rifle around, his fingers inching closer to the trigger. With an effortless
swipe, Symon sent the rifle flying onto the snow, where he crushed it into
several pieces merely by stepping upon it. Pete’s eyes went wide with terror,
right before Symon bit him.

Anastasia winced as she
watched the violence unfold. She knew that Frost was also affected by the
brutality because after arriving at his father’s side, he stood over Pete and
lowered his head sadly. Suddenly, Anastasia’s attention was drawn away from the
two werewolves and onto Mike, who was slowly creeping toward his rifle.

“Watch out!” Anastasia
cried with urgency, finally getting Frost and Symon to notice Mike’s actions.

Immediately, Mike stood
up and ran, stopping only when he’d retrieved his rifle. Reaching him before he
could shoot, Frost slammed into Mike, causing him to skid across the snow. Yet,
even then, the resolute hunter kept his rifle securely in tow. Getting into the
fight, Symon went for an attack but had to retreat when Mike fired at him.
Obviously not pleased, Symon struck Mike’s face and then leapt on top of him.

“You need to stay still
and shut up,” Mr. Fairbanks warned Anastasia, losing his composure and perhaps
his sanity, too, as he gazed upon the increasingly bleak scene.

“Just let us go in
peace and this will all stop,” Anastasia promised in a shaky tone.

“I said shut up!” Mr.
Fairbanks yelled, tightening his arm around her neck.

Choking, Anastasia
tried to call to Frost for help, but she could only manage a meek cry. Luckily,
that was good enough. Frost’s ears twitched and after he’d looked up, an
expression of horror appeared on his face. Then, faster than Anastasia had ever
seen, he ran to her. Beginning to circle them so Mr. Fairbanks couldn’t get a
decent shot, Frost snarled viciously. However, this only caused Mr. Fairbanks
to fire erratically at him, while strengthening his grip on Anastasia’s neck.

As a succession of
bullets flew around her, penetrating into the snow, and she fought to take even
the smallest of breaths, Anastasia felt panic seize her body. Although she was
also suffering from physical and mental exhaustion, she wouldn’t give up.
Apparently, neither would Frost because with one fierce, anger-fueled attack,
he knocked Mr. Fairbanks and Anastasia down.

Now lying on the cold,
hard snow, Anastasia’s body ached from the impact, but at least she was free
from Mr. Fairbanks and able to take a much needed deep breath of air. Almost
instantly, Frost was at her side, licking her face with his warm, wet tongue to
make sure that she was alright. The dizziness that Anastasia had been experiencing
soon passed, as did the pounding in her head; yet, she was filled with a new
fear when she saw the frightening scene that was just ten feet away.

There, hunched over a
bitten Mike, was Symon. At first, Anastasia had wondered why he was acting so
strange, and then she’d seen it – blood, running from his left paw and marring
the snow. Symon no longer looked like his usual strong self, and as he panted
heavily, it was evident that he was in a great deal of pain. Although Mike’s
rifle now lay harmlessly in his stiff hand, the damage had already been done,
and if he’d used a bullet made of silver, then Symon’s condition would only
worsen.

“Go to your father,”
Anastasia said, fully aware that Frost had chosen to remain with her.

Appearing reluctant,
Anastasia had to nod reassuringly at Frost before he would leave her. When he
finally did, she watched with slight disgust as he caringly licked his father’s
wound. Symon responded with a pained moan, although Anastasia was certain that
Frost’s show of affection meant everything to him. 

Suddenly, Anastasia
heard a groan coming from nearby. Lifting herself onto her knees, she turned
around to see Mr. Fairbanks, who had also risen. With a rifle in his hands and
an expression of fury upon his face, it was clear that he wouldn’t stop until
he’d fulfilled his purpose of killing a werewolf – or two.

Before Anastasia had
the chance to scream, Mr. Fairbanks fired directly at Frost, who was too
concerned about his father to notice what was happening. Symon had been watching,
though, and as he jumped right in front of his son, it was obvious that he knew
exactly what he was doing. The bullet hit Symon in what could’ve only been his
heart, causing him to immediately fall to the ground and then lie there
lifelessly.

In shock and dismay,
Frost stared at his father and whimpered. Then slowly, as he raised his head,
the sorrowful moan turned into a growl that seemed to come from the very depths
of his soul. With his lips curled back to reveal sharp fangs, Frost glared at
Mr. Fairbanks before charging toward him.

Standing firm, Mr.
Fairbanks shot at Frost. When no bullet was released, he fired again only to
confirm that the rifle was out of ammunition. Mr. Fairbanks appeared terrified,
but he remained stationary since running for his life wasn’t feasible. Vicious
and relentless, Frost pounced on him, clawed his coat open and then pierced his
fangs into his chest. Never having the chance to fight back, Mr. Fairbanks
merely moaned before turning stiff like the other hunters.

Fumbling backwards,
Frost gaped at Mr. Fairbanks, obviously greatly distressed by what he’d done.
After a long, tense moment, he cautiously neared him once again. With his nose,
Frost gently nudged Mr. Fairbanks, as if he could somehow wish him back to
life. Of course, it didn’t work.

A low whimper, which
was hardly audible, caused Anastasia to turn away from the heartbreaking scene,
only to be met with another. She was shocked to discover that Symon was still
alive and, unfortunately, suffering immensely. Frost heard him, too, and in a
flash, he was at his father’s side. Appearing almost angry, he took hold of
Symon by the scruff of the neck and attempted to pull him up. Yet, despite
Frost’s continual effort, he couldn’t get him to stand up.

“Frost, stop it,”
Anastasia said quietly, while placing her hand upon his back.

Refusing to give up,
Frost released his father and instead snarled, as if commanding him to get up
or else. In response, Symon looked at him, his eyes tell-tale signs that he was
slipping away. However, he managed to gather enough strength to raise his head
slightly and rub his snout lovingly against Frost’s cheek. Then, with a soft
sigh, Symon took his last breath.

As he held his father, who
remained in his shape-shifted form even in death, Frost returned to his human
self and wept. Desperate to offer any kind of comfort, Anastasia retrieved
Frost’s ripped top and jeans and began to dress him. She then hugged him
tightly until she felt tears swelling in the corner of her eyes. This was all
so unfair, and she had no idea how she’d ever be able to help him through the
pain.

The familiar sound of
an approaching snowmobile caused Anastasia and Frost to stand up anxiously,
moments before the rider came to a stop in front of them. Dismounting and then
removing his helmet, Anastasia’s grandfather scanned the area. From the fallen
hunters and werewolf, to the frazzled state of Anastasia and Frost, he was
clearly overcome with shock and sadness.

“There was more than
one werewolf,” Mr. Lockhart muttered to himself, as if trying to make sense of
the situation.

“How could you send a
team of hunters after us?” Anastasia yelled, shoving her grandfather backwards.
“Do you really hate us that much?” 

Grabbing Anastasia by
her shoulders, he forced her to look into his wide, tear-brimmed eyes. “When I
realized Frost was the werewolf and that you were with him, the hunt was over
for me. I knew I’d never be able to convince Leo, Mike, Pete, and Fairbanks to
stop, so I did the next best thing – I told them to go on without me while I
gathered the closest groups of hunters to aid us in the fight. In actuality, I
stopped the hunters by telling them that the werewolf had already been killed.
Thankfully, they believed me because if they hadn’t, Frost wouldn’t be alive.”

Uncertain of what to
say, Anastasia remained quiet. Although her grandfather had done the right
thing in the end, he’d also caused them a lot of turmoil along the way. Did he
really expect her to just forgive and forget? While she knew that she’d
eventually forgive him, it most definitely wouldn’t be today.

“How did you find us?”
Frost demanded cynically.

“The gunshots,” Mr.
Lockhart replied, his attention turning to the hunters once again. “Are they
dead?”

“No,” Frost replied,
startling Anastasia in the process. “They’re in a state referred to as
Incubation. When twenty four hours have passed, they’ll awaken as werewolves.
I’m afraid the same can’t be said for my biological father – his wounds were
lethal, but you already knew that.”

“I’m sorry things had
to turn out like this,” Mr. Lockhart began to say.

“None of this
had
to happen,” Frost interrupted angrily. “You and the other hunters chose to
exact revenge because of fear and paranoia. I didn’t deserve this, yet I have
to live with the consequences of your hateful actions.”

“I did it for Anastasia
and my wife – to protect them.”

“You’ve done an
outstanding job,” Frost said sarcastically, while wrapping his arms around a
cold, shaken-up Anastasia.

“I can right some of my
wrongs by giving you the opportunity to get your life back,” Mr. Lockhart
offered. “I’ll take care of these men, and as for everyone else, your father’s
body is proof that the wolf has been killed. You can return to Cedar Falls with
your secret intact.”

“You’re sick and
deluded,” Frost said, while pointing his finger accusingly at Mr. Lockhart. “I
won’t allow my father to become some spectacle, and even if I did, that would
only make the hunt worse. People will think there are more werewolves.”