Read Online FROSTBITE by David Warren - Free Book Online Page B

snow?”
     
    “Hold up,” I said. “How is it that you know all this stuff?”
     
    Brad looked surprised. “Don’t you watch the Nature Channel?”
     
    “Or the Science Fiction Channel?” Kevin asked.
     
    “It’s not science fiction,” Brad said defensively. “Its fact—just ask the people of Mongolia.”
     
    ”No,” I answered. “I don’t have those channels; I only have the rabbit ears.”
     
    Brad narrowed his eyes. “The what?”
     
    “Never mind,” I smiled. “Well boys that certainly is an interesting theory.” I suddenly remembered what Dr. Kline said when the sheriff and I had brought in Spike’s remains. “ You’d be surprised by what these mountains are home to sheriff,” he had said. “New species are still being discovered to this day.” As far as I was concerned, it was as good a hypothesis as any.
     
    “That’s all a load of garbage,” Ted scoffed from behind us. “Death Worms.”
     
    “Oh,” I said, turning in my seat. “But this creature being an alien isn’t?” Ted frowned and walked away.
     
    “He’s kind of a jerk,” Brad said, nodding in Ted’s general direction.
     
    “Oh I don’t know,” I replied. “He may come around. People conduct themselves differently depending on their circumstances.”
     
    “What do you mean?” Kevin asked.
     
    “Take your average Joe. He is a decent guy; pays his taxes, cuts his lawn and raises his family the best he knows how,” I answered.
     
    “Yeah?” Kevin urged me, interested.
     
    “Well, if you take that same fella and put him in an extremely stressful or dangerous environment, he quite possibly could conduct himself rather contrarily than he normally would,” I continued.
     
    “How so?” Brad asked. “I mean, you seem to be yourself so far.”
     
    “Well,” I exhaled. “I’ve been through some bad stuff in my life, maybe even worse than this.”
     
    “Worse than this?” Kevin echoed. “How is that possible?”
     
    “I don’t think I should go into all that detail,” I replied.
     
    “Why not?” Brad probed.
     
    “You’re young for starters,” I said.
     
    “Young?” Brad interrupted, apparently offended. “I’m almost fifteen years old.”
     
    “I know.”
     
    “Plus take a look around,” he insisted. “This is pretty bad.”
     
    I sat silently for a moment, brewing over how I should go about the conversation. They were actively talking-which was good-their minds were being occupied on something other than what they had just witnessed. On the other hand, they had already been through enough and my story wasn’t exactly light-hearted.
     
    In the end I decided on telling my experience for two reasons. One, the boys had already been through a lot and knew that the world could be ugly at times. It’s a lesson we all have needed to learn at one point or another in our lives. And the other reason was that I hoped it would somehow help them later on down the line in this journey we called life.
     
    “Okay,” I conceded. “You boys ever hear of the Vietnam War?”
     
    “I guess,” Kevin shrugged.
     
    “Sure,” Brad said. “We learned about it in school.”
     
    “Well I was there,” I continued.
     
    “Really?” Kevin asked. “Did you have a gun?”
     
    I slightly chuckled. “Yes, I had a gun.”
     
    Brad leaned forward. “What kind?”
     
    “I had several,” I replied. “But the one I always had slung over my shoulder was an M-16 rifle.”
     
    “Wow,” Kevin said in that special ten-years-old fascinated kind of way.
     
    “I heard that the Vietnam War was really bad,” Brad said. “My teacher said that between both sides, there were over a million casualties.”
     
    I nodded. “That’s true. There really never was an official declaration of war, so the dates are a bit sketchy, but it lasted nearly twenty years.”
     
    “When did you go?” Brad asked.
     
    “1967,” I answered. “And I was there well over a year.”
     
    “Whoa,” Kevin