Creatures of Snow

Creatures of Snow

by

Teresa Carlson

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of
the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is
purely coincidental.

© 2014 Teresa
Carlson

ALL RIGHTS
RESERVED.

This book or any portion
thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author except for the
use of brief quotations.

Dedication

Tim, this is for you, ask
me why, and I
might
tell you…te he he.

Acknowledgements

Thank you to all of you who have given me
your time, knowledge and patience. Rick, Angie and Kerry – a
special thanks goes out to ya’ll. You have been my biggest
supporters and I never would have gotten this far without all of
you!

Table of
Contents

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter One

Skyden Regan never
considered himself much of a dreamer. Everything about him was
pretty straight forward - from his slouching don’t-care posture, to
his achievable, sub-standard goals. Most days he would be ranked
above slacker, just under go-getter, and always miles away from a
dreamer.

He sat with his head down
and his hood up. The transport was nearly empty as it rattled on
with only a few stiff-suited businessmen and a trio of rowdy teens.
He had been riding the same route almost all day, to the end of the
line and back again. Every time Driver Calhoun would glance back at
him Sky just went on staring out the window, waiting for the
transport to lurch back onto the road. He had started the ride with
the intention of putting distance between himself and reality. He
needed
space to think about his impending
future, but for all his effort, all he could seem to conjure was
the past.

He remembered her voice,
soft and light, like the song of a bird.
What would you do if you could really touch the sky?
The clearest memory he had of his mother was one
of the last.

It was almost ten years
ago, they couldn’t have been more than six
-
he and his brother had been
playing on the back-lot, just beyond the stream. They hadn’t fought
once that day and his mother brought fruits and sweets as a
surprise.
He could still feel the cool
earth under his bare feet as he tasted the sweet chocolate and tart
berries. He could still picture the soft breeze, full of the rich
scents of autumn, sending the grasses of the valley in to a wild
dance of undulating waves.

He reached a hand up
against the blue of the sky wishing he could catch the moment,
telling his brain to forever remember that instant when the worlds
were quiet and his short, whirlwind of a life was finally
perfect.

“
What would you do if you
could really touch the sky?” Her voice floated up behind
him.

Even at his young age, he had been through
the jump-gates twice, he had seen the depth of space. “That’s
impossible.” He laughed at her. “The sky is an illusion. It’s
just…empty space.”

She smiled and smoothed
back his riot of black hair. “Not everything is what it seems,
little one.”

“
I wouldn’t want to touch
the sky, mommy.” His twin brother, Soulen, said between mouthfuls
of cake, “I’d be afraid I’d break it, and it’s so
beautiful.”

Oh, how she laughed and smiled. She was like
the sun, making them feel warm and loved, “My beautiful boys.” She
hugged them tightly, “My Soul and my Sky.”

A jab against the back of
his seat jarred him back into the present. He clenched his jaw,
along with his fist. So far he had successfully controlled his
instinct to start a fight with the three jerks behind him, but they
were really,
truly
pushing it.

“Look, scrapper kids,” One
of the punks announced, hitting the window with a fat fist. “Come
on. Let’s get off here.”

Sky glanced out the window
and saw the two skinny little kids hawking some homemade jewelry by
the transport stop.

The three thugs pushed
their way towards the front of the transport, none of them gave him
a second look, but he couldn’t help but stare. The ringleader must
have been the reserved one with the zit-covered face that slithered
along behind the two more brutal looking guys.

He took another look out
the dusty window at the unsuspecting scrapper kids; they wouldn’t
stand a chance against the older boys.

Sky hesitated and tapped
his finger lightly on the seat. He d
idn’
t have to go. No one would even
know, or probably even care, that he could have stopped a couple of
little street rats from getting pummeled by a gang of trust-fund
punks. He didn’t have to do anything but keep riding the
transport.

He pulled at his hood and
pushed his head back into his seat, trying to forget the faces of
those two, scrawny, little kids. But, he was a slave to his more
primal instincts, and sprang to his feet.

“Skyden.” Driver Calhoun
swung the door back down just as Sky got to it. “This isn’t your
stop.”

“I’ll catch the next one
home.” He needed to find a route where the driver wasn’t friends
with his dad.

Driver Calhoun pursed his
dry lips and shook his head. “You have a choice, you know.” He said
softly, “You can just sit back down.”

“I need some air.” He
shrugged and held his ground with his feet pointed straight at the
door.

Calhoun sighed with an
exaggerated hum and slapped the controls, sending the door up in a
rush of unfiltered air.

Sky paused on the ledge,
looking down at the road. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said and
jumped down to the street, not daring to look back and see the
disappointment on Calhoun’s face.

After a few steps he
realized there was no sign of the three thugs or the little
scrappers.

He looked back the way he
had come, and then further down the street, wondering where they
could have gone. Pushing his hands into his pockets, he hunched his
shoulders in the slight defeat, but wasn’t ready to give up quite
yet.

A yell caught his
attention and sent his eyes searching the dingy sidewalks through
the scattered crowds. Just as he began to doubt what he had heard
(mainly due to the total lack of response from those around him)
the sound came again – a small yell of anger and fear.

They couldn’t be far.

He took off down the
side-walk and passed two alleyways before he saw them – two little
kids against three big bullies.

He assessed his enemy -
Meat Head, the bulky one would probably be slow, but would
certainly pack a big punch. The shorter, muscular one, Crew Cut,
looked tough and was wound tighter than a spring. Their leader,
Puss Face stood back from the other two, letting them do the dirty
work.

“Hey!” Sky yelled with as
much anger as he could muster and was pleased with their startled
surprise.

Puss Face was the first to
turn towards him, a look of annoyance clearly presented on his
lumpy face. “You, huh?”

“Leave ‘em alone.” Sky
walked towards them, pulling down his hood and pushing his
shoulders back.

Crew Cut let out a big
laugh with a good mix of phlegm behind it. “Is this kid
serious?”

“These little scrap turds
were engaging in illegal activity.” Puss Face cocked his head to
the side and shrugged, “We’re just trying to clean up the streets
for all the decent folk in this city.”

“So you’re gonna beat up
little kids?” Sky growled.

“Me? No.” Puss Face shook
a head full of greasy hair, “They are.” He gestured over to Meat
Head and Crew Cut and gave a little nod.

Meat Head pulled back his
arm and the bigger of the two scrappers pulled the other one behind
her.

Sky lunged, pushing Puss
Face out of his way as he ran towards Meat Head. It took a bit of
effort, but he was able to wrap his arm around the wide middle of
Meat Head’s massive body and use his momentum to pull them both
down to the ground. He only had an instant to jump back up and
regain his balance in order to shove Crew Cut back and away from
the kids.

“Run, idiots!” He yelled
at the scrappers.

They obeyed with little
more than a nod of thanks and dashed off towards the light of the
street, not looking back.

The rest of the fight was
over before it really began – Sky managed to get both Crew Cut and
Meat Head on the ground, groaning and moaning with just a few hits.
The two of them were most likely used to dealing with smaller,
weaker victims, not someone with years of school yard brawls under
their belt.

A giggle sliced through
the thick air. Sky turned to see Puss Face standing with a creepy
look on his bumpy face.

“What are you laughing
at?” Sky demanded as Puss Face’s giggles turned into outright
laughter. “You’re next if you don’t get out of here!”

“You can’t touch me.” Puss
Face’s smile spread like a disease. “Skyden Regan.”

Sky tensed.
Do I know this guy?

“You’re as stupid as they
say, aren’t you?” Puss Face boldly stepped towards him. “I was a
year ahead of you at primary school, I’m Joshua Harmos.” Puss Face
paused, expecting some sort of reaction, but only received a blank
stare in return, “My father owns Astrodeli.”

More blank stare.

“
He’s one of your dad’s
biggest clients.”

“Ohhhhh.” Sky still had no
idea who this punk was. “So what.”

“So, unless your dear old
daddy wants to lose over half his business you better turn around
and never breathe a word of this to anyone.”

Crew Cut and Meat Head
clamored to their feet, each one sporting nasty smirks.

“Yeah,” Meat Head laughed,
“Run home to daddy.”

“And then try to explain
this!” Crew Cut swung an upper-cut at Sky’s jaw.

But he wasn’t susceptible,
not even to cheap shots. He caught Crew Cuts fist and crushed it
with as much force as he dared. A simple twist of his arm brought
Crew Cut to his knees.

“Funny thing-” Sky
started, knowing that he shouldn’t enjoy the squeals of pain
reverberating off the gritty walls as much as he did. “My dad’s
company, Fortuna Freight, well they just landed a pretty big
contract that’s gonna have ‘em busy for quite a while. In fact
they’re probably not even gonna have time to deal with, what was it
called again,
Ass-
load-dilly?”

Meat Head’s face twisted
up in a rage, “Let him go!” He bellowed.

“
No.” Sky laughed and
twisted Crew Cuts arm a little more, just enough to make him
scream.

“Stop!” Meat Head lunged
at him; swung and missed to which Sky answered calmly with a palm
into the center of his face.

Out of respect for Meat
Head’s efforts, Sky let go of Crew Cut and backed up a few steps.
“You’re a coward, Pu…Joshua.” Sky pointed an accusing finger
towards him. If only he would make a move, if only he could hit
that nasty little face, but Sky fought with only one rule – he
would never throw the first punch.