Winterland

By on Feb 19, 2013 in Fiction

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Snowy landscape

“What is this supposed to prove?”

“Just do it. You’ll see.”

Bryce shrugged and punched in his sister’s number. Following Cole’s example, he got through the greetings and cut to the chase. “Isis, it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other, and I really miss you. Why don’t you come up and visit for a few days?”

“I’d love to, but I just can’t get away. My job and family, you know.”

“Then I’ll come down and visit you.”

“At this time of year? Are you crazy? The roads are so bad you’ll kill yourself five times before you get here.”

“You’re right. I’ll just wait until summer to visit. See you then. Bye.” He hung up the phone.

Cole smiled at him. “See, it’s the same conversation.”

“So?” Bryce knew Cole had a point. He just wasn’t getting to it yet.

“It’s the same conversation because they’re not real people, just like your truck driver wasn’t quite real. Let’s get back to the table, and I’ll tell you the clincher. I want Winter to hear it, too.”

Crystal had explained to Winter, so Cole started right in with his story. “When crystal and I drove out of town on the north road, the further we got, the worse the weather got, snowing and blowing harder, with the snow getting deeper on the road. About three kilometers past Cold Lake, the road was closed by an avalanche, which isn’t too surprising when you consider that we live in a snow belt, but when you told us your story about how your road ended in the middle of nowhere, I realized it was all just a big snow job at both ends.”

“Big time.” Bryce shivered as the magnitude of said snow job registered. Somebody or something was seriously screwing with their minds, with the minds of everyone in town.

“What can we do?” Winter asked. 

Cole scratched his head. “Well, the only two roads out of town both lead nowhere, and a reefer truck, trailer and all, vanished without a trace right in front of Bryce. I’m afraid we’re snowbound, and I have no idea how to get out of here.”

Crystal said, “And where would we go?”

“Wait a minute,” Bryce said. “We’ve all been acting like we’re snow-blind, but it’s suddenly so obvious to me; the roads don’t matter, because we don’t have to get out.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The roads just take us further away, to the point where there’s nothing distinctive, so the answer must be right here in town, probably somewhere downtown.”

Three puzzled faces looked back at him, and Cole voiced the question they were all thinking. “Where?”

Bryce was at a loss, and the silence stretched and stretched until inspiration struck. “What’s the coldest place in town?”

Fifteen minutes later, Bryce and the other three stood in the back aisle of Berg Foods in front of the “Employees Only” door that led into the back where he worked.

Crystal pulled her coat tighter. “I don’t think I want to go in there.”

“Don’t worry,” Bryce said, “you won’t get into any trouble.”

“I’m not afraid of that. I just don’t think I want to see what you’re going to find back there.”

Winter nodded. “She’s right. We’ll wait out here for half an hour.”

Bryce caught Cole’s eye, Cole nodded, Bryce pushed the door open and led Cole to the walk in meat locker at the back of the store, pausing with one gloved hand on the handle to say, “Coldest place in town.”

“Yeah, let’s do it.”

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About

Rik Hunik is over half a century old. He lives with a woman named Jo and a cat named Mister. They have no children and don't drink coffee, which apparently makes them social outcasts. He's worked on a farm, in a sawmill, a plywood plant, a tire retreader, and a water bed manufacturer. He's sold some of his paintings and a few of his photographs, but in order to earn a living, he's been working in construction for the past nineteen years. His fantasy stories have been published in a variety of small-press magazines and e-zines.