Chapter 9: Drift Sees The Light

Drift’s head was pounding. It felt as though icicles were growing on the inside of it. He had lost too much snow, too fast, and he was finding it difficult to focus.

“Fish,” he called. There was no answer. He looked around but couldn’t see anything. Why couldn’t he see? Even in the dark he ought to be able to see something. He felt his face. The stubby, broken carrot was there – and more or less intact. He felt higher up. His eyes. They’d gone. He reshaped his head a few times, flattening it, folding it, making it round. Perhaps his eyes had just fallen inside somehow. He had a tendency to get mixed up here and there every now and again. But no, his eyes were gone.

“Fish,” he yelled again. “Fish.”

“Well will ya listen to him hollerin’ for the purdy little fish. Like they gonna jump out the water an flap their little fins an fly the dumb lug outta here.”

“Shut your mouth, fool. He’s shouting for the kid.”

The first voice was mean and stupid. The second voice was just mean. Both were laced with the cruel wind which snapped at Drift as he lay in the darkness.

He may have lost his sight but all his other senses were working fine. He listened and he felt. THUD. THUD. THUD. He was moving. Something was walking with ponderous, swaying steps. He felt as though he was being carried on something large and slow, like on the back of a woolly mammoth. Only this woolly mammoth was colder. Much, much colder.

“Same old Drift,” the meaner of the two voices said. “Always running. Knew we could count on you.”

“Tell ‘im, Block. Tell ‘im what a lug he is. Tell ‘im how this the end o the road. Go on, Block. Say it like you say it to everyone. Say it.”

“No names, idiot. The boss said no names. Just keep moving. And keep watching the kid. The boss is expecting a report soon.”

Block. That meant the stupid one must be Blast. Drift knew them. And he knew why he felt cold. Sure, everything around here was cold. But there was cold, and then there was Colder cold. Block and Blast were the Colder Brothers. They were a story parents told their children to keep them from running off. They were a rumour, a worry, a nightmare. Few people believed they were real because few people ever met them and lived to speak again. But Drift and his kind knew they were real. He listened, wondering which of them was carrying him.

“She ain’t goin’ no place, Block. She’s stuck on the ice. We ain’t got nothing to worry over.”

Drift tried sitting up, but something heavy and hard pushed him back down again. “Oh no you don’t,” Block said. “Blast’s right. It is the end of the road for you.”

“You said it, Block. You said it. I love it when you say it. Now stamp him, Block. Squash him flat like you did the man.”

“I SAID SHUT UP.” Block roared and Drift might have been shaken in two had he not been held so firmly in place. He didn’t have to see to know where he was. The Colder Brothers were snowmen, giant snowmen shaped like ancient dinosaurs with bony tree-ridges along their backs. Standing still they looked a lot like hills—like the hills Fish had spotted. Block and Blast. They were involved and Drift had run straight into them. They had been following him all along. If only he stopped to think once in a while instead of running.

“I dint mean nothing, Block,” Blast whimpered. “I’m just tired o sneaking about. And me back hurts.”

“Look,” Drift said. “Just let me go. I’m innocent. I didn’t do anything to anyone. I’ll keep running. I won’t say a word.”

Blast laughed. A flurry of chuckles filled the air and Drift felt new snow fall on him. He gathered it into himself, feeling a tiny surge of strength return. It had begun to snow a little too, and Drift held on to every single flake he could.

“We know, Drift,” Blast said. “We know you didn’t do nothing. Don’t we, Block? Don’t we know? Tell what we don’t know.”

Drift felt the snowman carrying him shake with rage. “ENOUGH, YOU IDIOT,” Block thundered.

“Yeah, you heard him,” Blast echoed. “Block’s gonna knock yer block off if you don’t shut up. Tell him, Block. Tell him.”

“You too, Blast. No talking.” Block stopped suddenly. “Where’s she going?” he said. “She can’t be…”

“She’s headed to the Cave, Block. I can see her. I can, Block. She’s jumping around. Does she know, Block? Does she? Tell me, Block. Tell me.”

“SHUT. UP.” Block lifted his massive bulk into the air and then dropped down again. Drift rolled off and landed in the thick snow. “We can’t follow her in there but… wait… she’s changed direction. She’ll pass the Cave by and… oh no you don’t.” Drift had managed to get to his knees, building himself up ready to run once again. “You’re staying right there.”

Once again the older Colder Brother lay a heavy paw on Drift, pinning him to the ground. He could have had a mountain on top of him for all the freedom he had. The smaller snowman sank into the ground, feeling stronger but utterly helpless.

“Just let the girl go,” Drift pleaded. “Whatever you’re up to, whatever you’re planning, just let her go. She won’t find your precious Cave. You said so yourself.”

Drift felt a cold chill on his face and he heard the low rumble of Block’s mean voice. “What do you care what happens to the kid? Didn’t you take her away from her poor, sad mummy? You should have just carried on running, little snowman. Like you always do.”

“Then let me,” Drift said. “Let me run. I won’t come back. I’ll keep going north until north turns to south, and even then I won’t stop.”

Block and Blast laughed. It wasn’t a nice sound and it ended as abruptly as it had begun. The brothers shuffled close together and watched Fish sail away past the Cave of Wonders.

“Tell him, Block,” Blast said. “Tell him.”

“Oh that won’t be necessary, Blast,” Block replied. “He can hear it from the boss himself. Now hush, and keep still.”

Drift tried to turn his head, as though his sightless face might somehow be able to see where his future lay. But he couldn’t. His eyes were gone. Fish had gone. And he couldn’t even run.

A man’s voice broke through the wind. “Look there, Anna,” it said. “I told you I’d find him for you. What a surprise this is.”

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Illustration © Carl Pugh