The Winter Tyrant-Chapter 23: Fracture

Dean went about the next few days as he had done the last few. He didn’t mention things to anyone regarding the snowmobile tracks in the woods outside the development.

But he accelerated reconstruction and development, nonetheless. Fortifications were raised, and the boys were trained with greater intensity. And Dean found himself breaking away to perform regular reconnaissance with his drones.

Some villagers felt concerned about the increase in intensity. But they chalked it up to power having an effect on Dean’s temperament. Few complained though they were not being pushed recklessly, and the more they worked the more benefits they received.

In truth, Yuki was doing heavy lifting for the community’s morale, even without realizing it. Her kindhearted manner and insistence on unity kept spirits high even while times seemed to be getting tougher with each passing day.

And finally... the day came where Avery broke... The fire began to fade as she ran out of kindling, and she found herself sleeping less as she further approached starvation with each passing day.

Finally, she came to a realization. She stood in front of the bathroom mirror. Her red eyes reflected in its glint. They were taunting her, laughing at her misery. She could practically hear her own voice mocking her from the other side.

"This is what you deserve... You never really loved him... And he finally realized it. Why do you think he ghosted you? And responded so viciously to your attempts to reconcile. He knew from the moment he cut you off what you really are!"

Avery grabbed her own head, pulling at her hair as she tried to exorcise the demon that mocked her with her own reflection.

"No! You’re wrong! I... I.... Fuck you!"

She slammed her fist into the mirror, shattering the glass and cutting up her own knuckles in the process.

But the voices did not cease. Nor did her reflection fully vanish. Each shard reflected her own lips back at her, whispering in her ears.

"You don’t love... you attach. And when it stops feeding you, you move on." Now go do what you have always done... Survive...."

Avery awoke with a start; she looked around frantically. Wondering where the mirror was, where the shattered glass was, where her own reflection was... And then she settled beneath the thick blankets around the dimming fire.

"It was just a dream...."

Yet that thought did not still her beating heart. How could it be? The dream was so vivid... so true....

She stared into the flames, and there she watched her life flash before her eyes. The memories flashed by: her, and her mother... And nobody else... That run-down old house, the frozen hot dogs, and rotisserie chickens that her mother had fed her for so many years.

Every transactional friendship, every bridge burned after the usefulness of the relationship was up. She sat there hugging her knees, shifting next to the sleeping flames as she realized what needed to be done.

She glanced over at Richard... He was sleeping soundly; she hated his face... She hated everything about him. How dare he abandon her when she needed him most! But... he had yet to fulfill all his usefulness to her.

Avery crawled over and pushed on the man’s chest, rolling him over from his side onto his back as he began to grumble something in his sleep.

"Goddammit... Dean..."

Whatever was going through Richard’s mind, Avery couldn’t allow it to manifest into guilt, remorse, or least of all action. She quickly shoved the man harder, whispering in her ears as she did so.

"Richard! Richard wake up! God dammit Dick! I said Wake up!"

That last word woke the man up as he saw Avery leaning over him, bundled in her own blankets with fear in her eyes.

"What? What is it? Is something happening?"

Avery shook her head and leaned her head against the man’s chest. A sensation of warmth he had not expected from the woman. She cried, and he couldn’t tell if the tears were real, or just another one of her performances. That is until she began to speak between them.

"It’s over, isn’t it? Dean and I are really through? I mean... I’m literally sitting here starving, waiting for him to come save me, and he has abandoned me to die?"

Richard’s suspicion dropped further when he heard Avery speak of Dean. He sighed heavily as he dragged the woman into his chest and held her tightly.

"I don’t know what came over the guy. He dumps you out of nowhere, ghosts you, blocks your number, and then threatens you when you try to straighten things out? Only to threaten me too when I try to pound some sense into that thick head of his? It’s almost as if he’s a completely different person. He’s become a monster? I mean what kind of sick bastard would do all... of this?"

His eyes motioned around the darkened interior of his home, which was now barely illuminated by the dying embers lying in his makeshift firepit.

Avery shook her head and wiped the tears from her eyes. Breathing life into Richard’s greatest fears.

"There’s no help to come, Richard... This storm isn’t letting up.... And if we stay here... where Dean has become some form of winter tyrant... we’ll end up dead... or worse.... We need to go, Richard, while we still have the strength to run away!"

Richard didn’t want to believe it, but deep in his bones he knew the truth. If he stayed here, in the home he had worked so long to afford. He would die... And when Avery made that clear to him, there was no other choice.

"If we’re going to go... we need to go now... while everyone else sleeps."

Avery nodded slightly. Getting up to her feet, she reached her hand down to Richard and helped him up to his feet.

The two of them packed what little they had left to take on the road and walked out the door. Marching through the snow, especially in their current state, was a chore in and of itself.

And by the time the two of them reached the edge of the neighborhood below beneath the hill that it sat upon, Avery found herself falling into the snow face first.

Richard tried his best to pull her up to her feet.

"Come on! Dammit Avery! We’re so close now! Don’t give up now!"

And then just as Richard pulled Avery to her feet, he felt the cold steel of a barrel pressed to the back of his head.

"Well, look what we have here... I think we just found ourselves a couple of runaways.... Wouldn’t you say, Clark?"

Avery stood in horror as men dressed in mixed camouflage stepped out of the treeline armed with mismatched rifles, hunting carbines, and short military-pattern weapons alike.

She was quick to raise her hands and shouted in fear as she once more fell to her knees.

"Please! Don’t kill us! Tell Dean I’m sorry! I’m sorry for whatever I did! Just don’t kill us?"

The man named Clark pulled his scarf down to reveal his face. It was far older than one of the youths Dean was currently training. But it was neither middle-aged nor elderly.

"Dean? So that’s the name of your leader? Why don’t you tell us more?"

The men laughed. And neither Avery nor Richard recognized a single face. But none of them noticed that above the treeline, something watched silently in the storm-dark sky.