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Peter James Howland was scared. More scared than he had ever been in his entire life. He was standing in the forest, staring at the sky in fear as a blizzard raged around him. He hadn't seen it coming. Why hadn't he seen it coming?
Peter James could have sworn that he checked the weather before they had left to do their 'Final', the aptly named survival challenge that Peregrine Wells had come up with in the wake of her brother's untimely death.
And yet, despite his careful planning to make it as safe as possible for Peregrine and her friends, he had somehow missed the MASSIVE BLIZZARD that was currently storming around him. He hoped that the kids were ok.
He had dropped the last of them off at their assigned spot a few hours ago and had been setting up camp for the night, when the sky had opened and quickly became a wave of white, drowning the forest in its cold embrace.
Now he was slowly trudging back to Whitetail, hoping to run into the kids he had dropped off in various places in the woods. It was slow going and he was cold. So cold. But he kept going. He wouldn't leave another person behind. He couldn't.
Peter James had spent his whole life running, and he was tired. He had finally settled into a semi-quiet life that he was content with, and then Jacob had died on his property, and he had gotten swept into Peregrine's mission for closure.
Peregrine reminded him of himself when he was a child. Smart, resourceful, stubborn, and just a little self-destructive. She also reminded him of Gerda, his lover who had tragically died in a bombing during the war. Sometimes, he liked to imagine that Peregrine was his and Gerda's daughter. No offense to Kathy Wells.
That was why he had to get back to Whitetail. He had to see if she was okay. He didn't want to destroy yet another life because of his own inadequacy. He had led four kids into these woods and if anything happened to them…
No. He wouldn't go there. He had trained them well. After all, survival was the whole purpose of the Final to begin with. They would be ok. They had to be ok.
Howl stumbled through the brush. It was getting colder, and he had lost most of his belongings in a particularly bad fall. They had gotten buried under the snow so quickly that within seconds he couldn't see where they were, so he had left them. He knew he needed to find shelter, but he could barely see five feet in front of him.
The ground started to slope downward and he found himself on a riverbank. He knew this river. It ran all the way back to town. All he had to do was follow it and he would be back to the town within a few hours. Peter James doubted he had hours at the rate he was freezing but he had to try. For Peregrine.
After a few minutes of following the river, Peter James started to make out a shape. Hope filled his chest. Of course the town had sent a rescue party. And the river was the fastest way to get far into the forest. If he hadn’t been so frozen, he probably would have started to run. The cold had his joints aching, he could barely even feel his feet and he was shivering so hard that he could barely stay standing. Every step hurt and he knew he was probably going to be hospitalized for a while if he survived. He smiled, knowing he would soon be warm. The kids were probably already with them. He was saved.
He got closer and he could see a snowmobile and a figure standing next to it holding something. Probably a radio, though he doubted the signal would travel far in this storm. He tried to call out but his throat hurt. No matter. The person looked up at him and straightened up. He was almost there. Almost…
Wait. The person approaching him didn’t look like anyone from town. He heard a beeping coming from the device in their hand. It sped up as they approached him. He was being tracked? But how? And by who? Peter James didn’t understand, but he had a weird feeling of dread. He got closer, and then they were face to face.
Standing before him was an older woman, thin, with curly blond hair tucked inside of the hood of a jacket that looked expensive and was emanating heat. She had a tracker that was now beeping with a ferocity to it and a purse. He recognized that purse.
The woman laughed. It was the laugh of someone who obviously spent a lot of time around folks of a more dignified caliber. Peter James hated that kind of laugh. He hated the people it came from.
“My, my, my. If it isn’t my darling cousin. I can’t believe I found you.” She chuckled.
“Y-you? W-what a-are y-you d-doing h-here?” Howl managed to get out.
“Oh, well, when that reporter came to my house to ask questions about my favorite cousin, I figured that I should finally pay him a well overdue visit. Unfortunately by the time I arrived, you were already gone. Good thing I’d already paid someone in town to slip a tracker into your pocket.”
She pointed to his coat. He reached into the pocket to find a small silver tile stuck to the side. It must have been that strange man who had come to see them all off. He had figured the man was just a curious townsman, even when the man had bumped into him and then rattled something under his breath and took off. He had chalked it up to just another strange small-towner.
“A-are y-you g-going t-to t-take m-me b-back t-to t-town?” Peter James asked. He didn’t need to. He knew why she was here. Why she had finally made the effort to see him. But, there was still a small part of him that hoped she remembered the good times. Before the incident. Before his neglect had killed her father.
She tsked. “Oh Peter James. I think we both know the answer to that.”
“A-are t-the k-kids a-all right a-at l-least?”
“Oh them? I would assume they didn’t make it, dear. I mean, this is a particularly nasty storm." Sandra smiled at the sky before looking back at Peter James. She scowled and started to pace.
"To be honest, I was starting to doubt that I would even run into you. I wouldn’t be surprised if they perished though. It’s their own fault, to be honest, for trusting you. Everyone who ever trusts you gets hurt. Or dies. All your friends in the army, your girlfriend, my father, and now these poor kids. It’s the Howland curse." Sandra jabbed a finger at Peter James and with the next few words she kept jabbing him harder and harder. He didn't know what hurt worse, the pain in his chest or his heart.
"You hurt people, Peter James. You get them killed. You are a stain on this earth.” Sandra stopped there, her voice starting to waver a bit. She took a second to recollect herself.
“I-I d-didn’t m-mean t-to.”
“Oh, I know. You had the best intentions. It was just an accident. I’ve heard all of the excuses before and do you know what? I couldn’t give a damn. You hurt people and you run. You’ve done it all your life. You create a mess and then you disappear and we have to pick up the pieces in your absence." Sandra sighed in contempt before she started pacing again, faster and angrier this time.
"I’m sick of cleaning up your messes. First, it was the plant. Then, the company. Then, it was that girl who kept sticking her nose where it didn’t belong. Then, the whole fiasco a few weeks ago with the news circulations about that boy and how you might have known he was dying and did nothing. And now this." Sandra threw her arms out, gesturing to the woods behind her and the blizzard around them.
"Do you think if I let you live, they won't come after you and our family to help pay for their bills? It would tarnish our family’s reputation even more than it already has. It needs to stop. I’ve killed too many people to protect our family from your messes. If I have to kill you to finally put an end to it, then so be it.”
“Y-you… w-who d-did y-you k-kill?”
“Why your precious girlfriend Gerda." Sandra paused as the weight of what she said hit Peter James. He fell to his knees in the snow and tried to scream but he couldn't.
"W-why?" he managed, tears freezing on his face.
Sandra scowled.
"Her photography already wasn’t helping with our efforts in the war. Then, after she found out that I was there on business, she tried to set up an interview and show me her pictures to get me to pull our company out of the war. I told her off, of course. Why would I turn down the most profitable business venture since Vietnam, just because of a few civilian deaths? All’s fair in war, after all. If they didn’t want to die they should’ve left or not joined the service. Then a few days later, she had the gall to try to ask me for help when she discovered that you got her pregnant. Tried to sway me with a sob story about how she knew you wouldn’t keep it, and how she wouldn’t be a good mother, but how I was family and would provide for it. Like I didn’t have my own problems and my own kids! And there was no way I was going to let that threat of a child hang over me and my company, and come after everything I’ve worked so hard to protect. I especially wasn’t going to let you pass down the Howland curse. I couldn't let the cycle continue. Not if I had the power to stop it. "
She paused for a second. Howl knew that she believed the curse was real. She feared it so much that she had committed an atrocity. Her next words were said with a bitter smile. "And I did. So, I let Gerda accidentally stumble upon a secret encrypted letter, and BOOM, problem solved. There really is nothing like a war. It’s such an easy way to get rid of problems.”
“Y-you…”
“Yes. Me.” Sandra smiled with no ounce of warmth to her face.
It was at that moment that Peter James Howland’s heart broke. He couldn’t believe it. His little cousin had become so cruel all because of him. In a way, he didn’t even blame her. What she had done to Gerda was horrific and senseless, but he had made her that way. He had turned a sweet girl into a cruel monster with his neglect. He should have been more vocal about the drums. Even if that did nothing, he shouldn’t have left after they exploded. He should’ve stayed and helped her get past her father’s death. Taken over the company instead of her. Maybe then she wouldn’t have become so bitter. So cruel.
“And now I get to kill you." Sandra clapped and beamed. Her face contorted into a cruel sense of glee. "And right after I tarnished your name to one of your new friends, on tape. You already have a reputation of hurting people and leaving. I made sure your friend knew that. And now, look. You’ve hurt an entire town by leading four teens to their death after your neglect and greed killed one a year ago. This time, I’m going to make sure that these will be the last people you hurt.”
With that, Sandra pulled a gun out of her purse.
“Any last words?”
Peter James thought.
“I-I’m S-Sorry. A-and I… I f-forgive y-you”
Sandra gave out a sharp laugh.
“Well it’s too late for that.”
Howl closed his eyes.
And then it was over and he was finally free.