We like you

The wind is whistling through the trees overhead- no, it’s screaming. Screaming through the trees overhead, and I can’t feel my feet any more. My cheeks went numb within seconds of leaving the hut, and I wish I’d taken that as a hint to stay behind.

“Regretting you came now?” Lucas bellows in my ear, reading my mind as he so often seems to do. If he wasn’t so scary it’d be kinda funny.

“I’m fine.” I’m not, but I ain’t gonna let this lot see that. I chose to come with them, and I’ll deal with it like a man.

“Hah! Hear that everyone? Thinks cos he’s walked through some snow he’s a frontiersman now.” With a slap across my back that stings as much as the cold he trudges forward, leaving me trailing behind once more.

No-one else can hear him of course, but I still bristle at the jibe. I’m here ain’t I, out in the colonies? Should be enough to make me a frontiersman by itself. To please this lot though I need to kill a bear with nothing but my knife. I often wonder who’s more barbaric- the landscape, or us lot.

The others are pulling ahead again, their long legs letting them get clear of the snow far easier than my short stubby ones. If I fall behind they’ll give me an earful, and I’ll be mucking out the horses ‘til spring comes and goes. Gripping my hood closer I lean forwards and pick up the pace, and it’s not long before I’m huffing like a bellows.

Then, all a sudden, the wind dies down. A hush falls over the world, and in the void left behind it feels like being submerged in water. Now my own breath sounds so loud, but there’s no way I can slow it, not without falling over straight away.

I push my hood back to see what’s caused the change. The group’s come into a ring of trees, the great tall straight ones that grow over here, and they’ve formed a natural wind break. Here the snow isn’t so deep either, coming up only to my knees rather than my thighs. But this silence-

It’s why I wanted to come on the walk. I knew it would be hard work, and I’d hold everyone else up and would get yelled at again. But this land is so stunning it just takes my breath away. Back home, there was nothing but buildings and people, with only the farmlands off on the hillside around the city. Here there seems to be nothing but nature. The natives don’t build cities, not as we have ‘em, and I can’t blame them. Something about the land seems to repel the very idea, like cut stone would just get swallowed by tree roots.

There’s no way I can ever mention any of these thoughts to the others. They mock me more than enough anyway, ain’t no point giving them more stuff to hit me with. Once I tried to talk to the preacher about it, but he was too busy worrying about the souls of the natives. None of the natives seem worried, but that only makes him all the more determined. It’s like no-one actually sees the land they’re all so desperate to get hold of.

I can’t help it. I have to stop, to just bask in this wonder and terrifying beauty for a moment. I’ll regret it later, when I’m doing all the chores and getting things thrown at me, but for now-

What was that? There was a noise, like… something moving? Oh no, please tell me there aren’t wolves? Why the hell did I want to come on this damn walk. At least following the others I can use their footprints, move over where the snow’s already been crunched. Hop, hop, hop- slip.

My foot slides out from under me and I stumble forward, almost falling face first into the ground before I catch myself and windmill my arms to keep upright. Looking back I’ve come a couple of feet off the path the others have made, and it’ll be a big jump back. Except…

Where are my footprints?

There’s a path, flattened snow threatening to turn to mulch and darkened by the men who’ve come before, leading straight through the trees, up to the top of the hill where the others are going to mess about out of sight of the elders. And there’s me, standing off to the side from where I fell, and between the two nothing. Yet I know I trod there- I was stumbling, doing everything I could not to fall. How could I not leave a mark on the snow?

By now I’ve half forgotten about the other boys further up. Their conversation picked up again as soon as they hit the trees, and now it’s fading away again as they keep climbing and I stand still. It’s just me and the trees now, and the mystery of the untouched snow that I know I’ve walked on.

I can’t tell if this is wonder or fear that I’m feeling. Maybe both? With my heart thudding in my ears I lift my boot. Sure enough the snow is still crisp clean, even though small specks of it are falling off my sole. I step back and when I pick my other foot up it hasn’t dented the snow either.

“I’m not that skinny,” I mutter, just for a sound other than the thud of my own pulse. Some animals can pass over snow and leave very little in the way of tracks, but here I was leaving absolutely nothing. Passing through the world without leaving a single mark of my existence.

Half a dozen more steps back and I’ve decided this is eerie. I don’t like it any more. Panic floods my system and I turn to race up the hill to catch up with the others, not caring now about the teasing. As I go to move though there’s a movement amongst the trees, too large and too fast to be the others.

A bear? That sound I heard, damn, it must still be around. Now what do I do- go up to the others, warn them and hope they’ll protect me, or try and get back to the cabins?

What wind there was amongst the trees dies. If I thought I was in silence before, it’s nothing to what this is now. For some reason the image of a pebble dropped in water comes to mind. Ripples, spreading out through the forest. Coming closer. Looking, searching…

Something is out here with us. Something bigger than a bear. I can feel that in my bones, that ingrained instinct whenever danger rears its head. The worst part is I can’t tell where it’s coming from. The trees have eyes, and all of them are glowering at me.

I run. Uphill, I realise, towards the others. They’re nearer, I stand a better chance of reaching them. As I run for my life I can’t help but turn, expecting some great beast to come pouncing out from the trees to eat me. There’s nothing there though. Not even my footprints.

There’s only so far I can go however. My legs are already tired from the day’s work, and fear has stolen the rest of my strength. As I collapse to the ground I try to call out to Lucas, to any of the others, to warn them. But the silence covers me as well, and all I can do is wheeze.

“Sshh.”

I jump at the sound, no matter how soothing it was. It came from just behind my right ear, but of course there’s no-one there. It feels as though there’s something else here with me though, a distinct thing from whatever is hunting us.

A moment passes before a weight- it’s the best way I can describe it, like an aura or presence- leaves my vicinity. From the rush of snow and the quiver of low branches I can follow it going up the hill, although I can’t see anything other than a blur of darkness. Not long after the screams start.

“Be still. We like you,” the voice says, and I can’t decide if that’s a good thing or not. Either way though, I haven’t got the strength to move. Now that I’m on my knees the land beneath me is draining my energy, my eyes feel heavy and the world goes blurry.

“Sleep, little one.” I do as the voice tells me, as much as I want to resist, and fall forward into the cushion of snow.

When I wake there’s a faint glimmer of dawn-light through the canopy. The cold has gotten into my core and everything seems fuzzy. It’s like seeing the world through stained glass. I can’t tell where my body ends, so getting to my feet is hard. Stumbling and sliding I start picking my way back down the hill. There are noises down there, voices? Calling, pleading almost. Has something happened?

Yes, something has happened. Like ice water down my back a shot of clarity runs through me and my eyes are drawn up the hill. The sound of screams still echoes through my ears, even if the hillside has fallen silent now. Something happened up there, and something in the forest protected me. Is the threat still up there, and will I be safe again if I go to check?

Neither of these are questions that I wish to know the answers to. All the more so for the fact that I still don’t leave footprints. Calling on the last traces of my energy I turn and run back to camp, keeping one eye behind me all the way.

Halfway down the hill my footprint appear again, and the weight of a presence is lifted.

I keep running nonetheless.