FROSTBITE | S. Rogers/B. Barnes (FINISHED)

Snow Storm

Janie walked along the fields of the valley that led up to the hills, sunflowers greeting her on the left, daisies and tall plants waving in the breeze to the right. Up ahead, she could see streaks of purple in the sea of green; lavender swatches and tall trees, whose leaves danced carelessly in the afternoon wind. Butterflies, bees, and birds flew around, creating a steady buzz that instantly reminded one of summer. Earlier that day, clouds had painted the sky a mixture of blue and fluffy white, but now, that white had disappeared, only leaving a sea of azure, a hue halfway between blue and cyan against the orb of brightness that burned on the nape of Janie's neck and the back of her thighs as she walked.

Behind her, the log cabin she lived in sat at the edge of a lake, whose water lay flat as a mirror against the sky. A small herb garden stood behind it, housing not only rosemary, thyme, and basil, but also fresh tomatoes and strawberries in a tiny greenhouse that connected to the yard. She didn't own a phone line or television, so instead, Janie kept herself busy with gardening and listening to music on the record player that stood in the living room. During hot nights, she'd sit on the porch with a book or with her feet dangling in the water, and every morning at seven, she'd get up to swim laps for two hours straight before making herself breakfast. 

The horrific occurrences that transpired nearly two years ago were now a distant memory in the back of Janie's mind, a cloud of smoke that had nearly vanished completely into thin air. Janie still dreamed about it sometimes, her hands wrapped around Steve's throat and the blood lust driving her nearly insane. Other times she'd dream of the serum freezing in her veins, bright blue and colder than an ice bath or a blizzard. She'd wake up shivering and quivering, too fearful to open her eyes, yet too afraid to keep them closed. But the dreams happened less frequently as time went on, and she was sure Steve had moved on by now. She hoped he had because it wouldn't be fair to him to wait for her while life passed him by for the second time. It squeezed at her brain still, despite not having heard from him since she left. How she managed to get away from him without being seen was still a mystery to her, but instead of questioning it, she thanked whatever higher power had granted her the opportunity.

Sometimes, she would walk around the area for hours. The enhanced stamina and super strength allowed her to carry on long after that white orb in the sky had turned orange and still allowed her to continue as it fell beneath the earth. She enjoyed it, taking in the scenery one image at a time, mental snapshots that lasted in her mind when she lay in bed late at night, crickets chirping and trees rustling through the open window. She'd pick flowers sometimes and take them back to the house, laying them out on the dining table to dry out or sticking them in a mason jar which contributed as a makeshift vase.

It'd taken her quite a while to get used to her newfound strength and stamina. She'd broken three wine glasses and two plates in the first week of moving into the cabin, had punched a decent-sized hole in the tree that offered partial shading to the front of her house, bent several pieces of cutlery, and nearly ripped the sink out of the bathroom wall after nearly slipping when she got out of the shower. She'd never been able to run for longer than ten minutes before, let alone two hours straight, and she no longer had to worry about not being able to open jars or twist off caps.