Snowbound

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I sat in the front passenger seat, my eyes glued lazily to the window as I barely held onto my waking thoughts, a mixture of monotony and comfortable boredom. In the cup holder sat a long-since cold cup of coffee my dad had bought a few towns over in a foolish attempt at staying alert. We'd already been driving for 12 hours, and we'd be driving throughout the night till the early morning to reach our destination in one go, all to avoid spending money on a motel. My dad was stubborn like that, only willing to cash out on services he deemed necessary. Comfort was a luxury. Had it still been warm outside, we'd have insisted on sleeping in the car, knowing fully well that he'd wake up to an aching back. Arguing this point to him would, of course, have been a futile task. I turned in my seat, momentarily dozing off. I'd always loved the feeling of sleeping in a moving car, only to wake up at an entirely new destination. It held an odd sense of peace and comfort to let my dad take care of the journey, as if nothing bad could happen whenever he was in control. I listened to the whirring engine, and the radio faintly playing the mystery show, Unheard, recounting the story of the Baikonur missing cosmonauts of 1993. A mild bump in the road then shook me awake, signaling that we'd made it past the city to once again drive across endless country roads through fields and forests. The street lamps that had illuminated the path ahead were gone, leaving us with nothing but our car's high beams to lead the way. On each side of the road, dense forests quickly replaced the fields. Each branch glistened with snow, transforming the forest into a glittery tunnel. A small, makeshift parking bay appeared ahead, and my dad pulled into it, parking the car as he announced he needed to take a leak, a pressing urge I shared after driving nonstop for seven hours. We took a few steps into the woods, forming fresh footprints in the thus far untouched snow, and stood side by side, separated by a tree, as we took care of business. A brisk breeze shot through the trees, unsettling the snow above, which subsequently came tumbling down onto my head, slipping in under my jacket. It quickly melted against my skin. My dad chuckled, to which I responded with a freshly formed snowball thrown at his head. A quick but hectic snowball fight ensued, ending with victory in my favor, though I suspected my dad had let me win. By the time we returned to the car, the skies above had darkened with a thick layer of clouds. Specks of white appeared before us as the first snowflakes fell to the ground. Storm's coming, my dad stated matter-of-factly, as if he had hidden foresight. We better get going before it starts. No sooner had we gotten back on the road than the few flakes had turned into heavy, but direct snowfall. Though the roads had been cleared a couple of days prior, it wouldn't take long for the asphalt to turn into a slippery mess. Still, we kept pushing. knowing better than to let ourselves get snowed in here in the middle of nowhere. The wind picked up, spraying snow across our windshield, and lowering visibility to near zero. We slowed down, desperately trying to keep the road in sight. Minutes passed, and the path ahead disappeared into a white sheet, leaving us no choice but to slow down to a crawl. Even then, we'd hit the edge of the road, barely able to swerve back onto the slippery asphalt. We should stop, I begged. If we stop here, we ain't gonna get moving again, my dad argued. But it wouldn't matter, because before we could argue, we came to a gliding halt. The snow ahead now piled up far too high to drive through. Fuck! My dad yelled out of frustration before quickly catching himself. Sorry, I didn't mean to say that. But the damage had already been done. My dad was a stoic man, never resorting to profanity unless reaching his absolute limit. With a single word, he'd let it slip that he was no longer in control. And the fact terrified me more than anything that could have happened on the road. We should turn around, I suggested. My voice pitched higher with fear. It's no use. The roads won't be better in the other direction either. We're in too deep. He pulled his cell phone out of the glove compartment. and turned it on, a hopeless effort to call for help. But this far away from the nearest city, we were out of luck. There wasn't a single bar of signal to reach civilization. What are we going to do? I asked. It's going to be all right. He kept his tone even, but I could tell he was nervous. Your grandparents know we're coming. They'll know we got stuck when we don't show up, and they'll send someone. I'm sure of it. How do you know? I asked, not demanding an explanation, but further reassurance. Trust me, I've known your grandparents a lot longer than you have. We'll be fine as long as we make it through the night, but it's going to be cold, so you need to get more layers on, all right? His trademark confidence calmed me down. After all the stories he told me about the perils he'd endured, surely he keep us safe I did as my dad had ordered and put on several layers of clothes taken out of my suitcase in the trunk Though we had little in terms of supplies there were enough snacks back there to keep us satiated through the night I dug through the luggage, the presents for my grandparents, and carefully put aside my dad's prized hunting rifle. Don't worry, if we get stuck here for more than a day, I'll go hunt something for us to eat, he joked. But we're going to be out of here by tomorrow. We just have to stay put until someone comes to get us. We turned the car off, still kept warm by the residual heat, though it dissipated minute by minute. Our presence within the car cabin alone couldn't trap the heat for very long. I tried to sleep, hoping that the roads would clear up during my slumber, allowing me to wake up in a completely new location, as I had first anticipated. My dad, stubborn as he was, would stay awake, intermittently checking his phone in case a signal could get through. Whenever the temperature dropped too low, and I so much as shivered, he'd restart the engine just long enough to heat the car, keeping a close eye on the fuel gauge. Despite our troubling predicament, I once again felt safe in his presence. Enough so, that I fell into a deep sleep full of bizarre dreams about forest giants and snow trolls. triggered by the sounds of howling wind and snow pounding against our car. I awoke again to my dad opening the driver's seat door. He turned to me, shovel in hand. Stay put. I'm just going to clear the exhaust pipe. The door had only been open for seven seconds, but the temperature inside plummeted. 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That's a full year to build your wardrobe and love it. And you will. Now available in Canada, too. Don't keep settling for clothes that don't last. Go to quince.com slash dns for free shipping and 365-day returns. That's quince.com slash dns. He got to work slowly clearing the exhaust pipe, stopping us from getting suffocated by the carbon monoxide gas. But it wouldn't clear the road. And within a couple of hours, he'd have to clear the way again. He then shoveled a narrow path between the growing layer of snow and the passenger seat door, giving both of us a path for a quick escape. Once the job had been done, he got back into the car and started the engine to once again heat up the interior. His hands shivered from the cold, and he looked worried, though he'd never admit it. He again ordered me to get some rest while he stayed awake to make sure that we wouldn't get buried in the snow. Even though he asked me, I couldn't fall asleep again. My eyes flashed open whenever he turned his phone on to check for signal, the faint screen light illuminating his exhausted face. Only an hour had passed before he reached for the door once more. Yet again, my dad needed to clear the exhaust pipe, car roof, and doors. It took more time then, both due to exhaustion and worsening weather conditions. I kept my eyes and ears peeled, praying silently that someone might already come to our rescue. The road ahead, now completely invisible under the snow, remained dark. The howling wind had picked up, and apart from the scraping of my dad's shovel and thumps of tossed snow, the forest was deathly still. But then we heard something. Faint at first, barely cutting through the storm, but definitely a contrast to the monotonous cacophony we'd suffered so far. I contemplated opening my door to get a better listen, But before I could make that decision, my dad jumped back into the car and told me to stay quiet. He looked pale as a sheet. It wasn't just from the cold. There was something else subtly present in his eyes. Utter terror. What was that? Quiet! He whispered aggressively without explanation. I froze in place. My eyes fixed on the storm outside. My heart pounded, but I kept focused, trying to hear the sound again. Please help me! A desperate voice called out through the storm, impossibly loud. But it differed from the sound I'd heard before. Though I couldn't precisely place it, I knew it hadn't been a voice. It once again prompted my dad to get out of the vehicle. His fear turned to determination to save whoever else might be trapped in the storm with us. Hello? Is there anyone out there? He called as he waved his flashlight back and forth. Stop it, please! The voice called out, getting even closer. That time it sounded different, like it had come from a different person. It was distorted by the storm, making it impossible to discern whether it came from a man or woman. Where are you? Dad called out again. Help me! The voice repeated, not acknowledging our presence, sounding even stranger than it had before. I can't see you. Just follow the light! He went on, still waving his flashlight around. Oh, God, no! The voice went on, even closer then. Something was wrong, though I couldn't explain what. I could feel it deep inside me. Whatever had called for help had awoken a primal instinct within me, one I hadn't felt that far during my 11 years of life, and he was telling me to run. Dad, get back in the car, I pleaded, but he had stepped too far away from the car. He couldn't hear me. I opened the passenger side door and stepped outside, calling for my dad once more. In the distance I could just barely see his flashlight waving through the snow The voice called outside jarring and unnaturally loud It didn even attempt to sound human anymore Over here! My dad responded. Dad, come back! Then, as if a switch had been flicked, the pleas for help turned to a relentless, ear-shattering scream. It sounded as if it came from above us, from something too tall ever to be human. I cried out for my dad once more, but he didn't respond. Dad, please! His flashlight beam hung still in the air for a moment, before suddenly spinning as if the flashlight had been tossed. Worried that the creature had taken my dad, I prepared to set off and chase after him. But no sooner had I taken one step into the darkness than something pulled me back into the car. Close the door, my dad ordered. I did as commanded and clicked the lock. What happened? Shh! Using his hands, he gestured for me to stay low. He turned off the headlights and everything inside the car, plunging us into absolute darkness. We lay there for minutes, listening intently for signs of life outside. After a few tense minutes, the silence was shattered by another guttural scream that sent shivers down my spine. I dug myself deeper into the seat, hoping it might somehow keep me safe from whichever horrors were to come. But against all odds, Whatever lurked outside didn't seem to know where we were. What is it? I whispered. I don't know, my dad whispered back. Just try to stay quiet. The car's interior remained completely dark, except for a small digital clock on the dashboard, stating we just made it past three in the morning. Even if we survived until daybreak, it would take hours for anyone to realize we were gone, much less find us, and attempting to flee on foot would undoubtedly lead to our deaths either by the environment or by the monster outside. With no other option, we remained hidden inside the car, counting the minutes as the snow continued to bury us. Unable to use the car's engine for heat, lest we alert the monster, the temperature slowly sank to below zero. Even if we weren't found by the monster, we might not survive the cold. My dad wrapped his arms around me to keep me warm, but at that point, I doubted he could feel his arms anymore. It's going to be okay, Matty, I promise, he whispered. I'll get us out of here. The screaming persisted throughout the next couple of hours, getting closer at first, but always going in the wrong direction, circling us again and again. At that point, a layer of snow had covered our car so deeply that the monster could only find us by stepping directly on top of us. As the morning hours neared, The storm also appeared to have calmed, but the temperature had dropped so cold that should we fall asleep, we might not wake up again. Despite the fear I felt, my body was about to shut down. No matter how much I tried to fight it, I lingered on the brink of consciousness. Hey, Maddie, stay awake, my dad whispered as he shook me. I'm so cold, I stuttered in an exhausted response. Another scream sounded in the distance, a bit further away that time. This was the only chance we would get. If we didn't act fast, the cold would kill us before the monster did. We're going to have to warm up the car, but I need to clear the exhaust pipe again, okay? With both doors trapped behind piles of snow, my dad opted to crawl to the back of the car, guided only by the dimmest of courtesy lamps, and opened the trunk from inside. Since it would open upwards, he might get enough leverage to push it against the snow covering the top. He crawled over the suitcases, holding onto the shovel. He then paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on the hunting rifle. Not knowing what we were up against, we had no way of knowing the rifle would be powerful enough to defend us. With no other options, Dad loaded the rifle while laying flat inside the car and put it to the side for easy access as he pushed the trunk open. He then dug out as much snow as he could without standing up tall enough to be discovered. Once the exhaust had been cleared, he grabbed onto the rifle and signaled for me to turn on the engine. The lights had already been turned to their off position, but even though the car wouldn't light up significantly, the engine would still make a sound. The engine whirred to life, but rather than climb back inside, my dad remained outside, rifle in hand. In the dark, he couldn't possibly see the thing from a distance, meaning by the time it was close enough, it'd be too late to pull the trigger. Seconds after turning on the car, a horrendous, continuous scream cut through the air, getting louder as the monster rapidly approached our location. My dad fired a shot into the darkness, guided by nothing more than the shrieks. He then fired again and again, preparing to get off a fourth shot as something stepped onto the car's roof, bending it inwards. I dove to avoid having my skull caved in, losing sight of my dad outside. He yelped in pain as his rifle thudded to the ground. As I lifted my head to peek at what was going on, I could just see something wrapped around my dad's legs, hauling him into the air as his screams mixed with those of the tall creature. I wanted to call out for him, but I knew better than to give away my position just to get taken like my dad. So, I crawled through the damaged car in silence towards the rifle that had fallen into the snow. Though I had never been allowed to hold a firearm, I had been thoroughly lectured on its safety. I made it through the trunk. crawling outside into the snow. With the storm over, a near full moon cast a dim white light upon the snowbound landscape. Above the car stood the creature, holding my dad's leg in one twisted arm. It stood at least ten feet tall, its silhouette contrasting starkly against the night sky. Antler-like protrusions emerged from its shoulders, while its head appeared almost fused to its torso, its face indiscernible in the darkness. It stuffed my dad's leg into its mouth, closing down on it with teeth strong enough to crack through bone. Out of time, I scooped the rifle up, pointing it in the creature's general direction, and pulled the trigger. A loud bang reverberated through the night, leaving me deaf for a moment. I found myself on the ground, having been shoved down by the rifle's recoil. The shot had hit the creature, distracting it enough to let my dad fall into a pile of snow, but it didn't appear wounded. All I had achieved was to redirect its attention to me but I had nowhere left to run The creature gazed down at me bending down close enough so that I could see its face reflected in the moonshine It had large round eyes pitch black and empty, and a large gash for a mouth filled with rough, pointed teeth that extended for rows upon rows inwards. For a moment, it just observed me, as if impressed with the fight I had put up. Maddy! I heard my dad yell, but it wasn't enough to distract the creature. It reached out its claw for me, and my body froze still, my death all but certain in one crunch of its mouth. Leave him alone! My dad yelled as he rolled from the pile of snow. He snatched up the rifle and quickly cycled it before firing off another shot, this time hitting the creature directly in its eye. The impact sent it into a fit of agonizing rage, and the brief distraction allowed my dad to push me under the car before he himself climbed under it. The creature, having lost sight of us, Let out one final guttural scream before leaving the car to search for us down the road, blinded in one eye and oblivious to our hiding spot. Only after we were sure it had left the area did we climb back into the still-running car, carefully closing the trunk. The moon was about to set, giving way to a new day, but we weren't safe yet. A large chunk of my dad's leg had been bitten off, and he was quickly losing blood. He used his own belt as a tourniquet, and though it slowed the bleeding, he needed immediate medical attention. Someone will come, he promised. How do you know? I asked. You just gotta trust me on this one. You just have to hang in there. You'll be fine. What about you? I'm not going anywhere, I promise. But hours later, no one had come, and my dad had fallen into a deep sleep from which I couldn't wake him. I laid my head on his chest and cried, knowing he'd soon be dead and there was nothing I could do to save him. Then the engine came to a pathetic stall, leaving me alone in absolute silence. The first rays of sunshine dared to peek over the horizon, dancing among the snow-covered trees. If not for the horrors I'd endured, it would have been a beautiful morning. Finally, I exited the car to see if the road would lead anywhere, but it all looked identical under the thick layer of snow. I wouldn't know which way to take even if I had a map to guide me. In the distance, I could see something shifting among the trees and a faint whirring sound approaching our car. Five snowmobiles emerged from the tree line, having spotted me from afar. I jumped up and down and waved to them for help. The rescue team wore bright orange outfits with crosses on their backs. They immediately halted around our car and tended to my unconscious dad while one of them wrapped me in an orange heat shield. He tried to ask me what had happened, but I was too deep in shock to respond. All I could do was nod to simple questions while they loaded my dying father onto a stretcher, preparing to take him to a hospital. Using what little I had left of my cognitive function, I tried to warn them about the monster we'd fought off, but it all emerged as an incomprehensible word salad. They responded by reassuring me that we were safe. But after all we'd seen, I wasn't sure I could believe them. Next thing I recall was waking up in a hospital bed, unharmed if not for the mild hypothermia I'd suffered. My grandmother sat by my bedside, sleeping in a chair. My dad was nowhere in sight. I cried for a moment, but grandma promised everything would be fine. She explained that my dad had been taken in for surgery and that they would have to remove his leg, but would otherwise be fine. She asked me what had happened, but I wasn't sure I could explain before my dad was there to support my story, worried she would think I had lost my mind. She respected my wishes, reassuring me I didn't have to talk about anything until I felt ready. My only task was to focus on my recovery. A couple of days later, two men visited me in the hospital. casually dressed, but with strict expressions on their faces. They introduced themselves, but I couldn't take note of their names. They asked me about what I'd seen in the snowstorm, but, unlike my grandmother, they weren't receptive to my refusal to talk without my dad present. I told them about the creature, and though they weren't happy about it, they didn't refute my experience. They only mentioned something about a threshold event, but didn't elaborate any further. After noting everything I could remember about the creature, they explained that my dad needed to be taken in for further treatment at their own facility to rule out complications of the attack. I asked to be taken with him, but they refused, citing infection risk as the reason for denial. They tried to reassure me they'd do everything they could to take care of my dad, but by their boredom and growing agitation, it didn't come off as genuine. I was discharged from the hospital after five days of treatment and learned from my grandparents that three other cars were stuck on the same road that night, only a few miles apart. The passengers in those cars were never found. They were reported missing the following morning, but I already knew what had happened to those people. It would take another two months before I got to see my dad again, two months which I spent at my grandparents' place. When they finally let him go home, and though he was physically healthy apart from his missing leg, the mental toll had changed him. He spent the rest of the winter weeks staring out the window into the snow, only calming down once spring had taken over and melted it away. Even then, he refused to mention that night. Though he would acknowledge and confirm that the trauma we'd been through was real, he never dared go into detail. My dad died last year, 19 years after the event, from an unrelated illness. He never truly got over the trauma of that night in December 2005, nor have I. But surviving the memories without the only person that was there to go through them with me has shattered the little progress I've made. The uncertainty of it all and the lack of answers have left me unable to forget. I'll always remember my dad for the man he was, regardless of the events of that night. A man who would have done anything to keep me safe, full of life, determined and loyal.