Chapter Six
Mark knew a family argument was brewing and he didn’t want to get stuck in the middle of it right now. Mark saw his coat hanging within reach, and before he processed what he was doing, he had his thick coat on and he was walking through the snow. He turned his head east, gazing at the white horizon.
A thought occurred to him, and he looked down the driveway. He didn’t have a car licence, and a car wouldn’t get very far; but he could drive Mr Brown’s tractor.
Before he could change his mind, Mark jogged through the deep snow and climbed into the small red tractor. He pulled out the key that Mr Brown had given him a couple of summers ago, and fired it up. It took a few loud chugs to get the engine going, and Mark looked fearfully back at the house, in case his family heard it.
He put the tractor into gear, raised the bucket, and started slowly down to the road. Once there, he turned left. The road had been partially cleared of snow, but there were still no cars on the road – no one travelled unless absolutely necessary.
As the road veered to the right, Mark followed his instincts and took the next open gateway. The little tractor bobbed and rocked across the uneven ground of the snow-covered field. Mark switched the windscreen wiper on as the snow became thicker, half-blinding his route.
His heart pounded with the sheer stupidity of what he was doing, risking his life in a snowstorm just to pacify an urge. But he'd gone this far now, he knew there was no point turning back.
Mark kept the little tractor heading due east, only swerving off course to find gates between fields. Each time he stopped to open the gates, the snow came higher up his leg, sending a wave of panic.
"It's fine, it will be fine, it will be fine." Mark muttered to himself in time with the loud engine.
He drove on, getting closer to a dark smear on the horizon. A small wooded section that Mark couldn't recognise. Here.
Whoever had been drawing him on was close. Mark left the tractor engine running, fearing that he wouldn't be able to start it again; then he jumped out of the cab and pushed his way towards the trees.
"Hello!" He shouted, pausing to hear any reply or sign of life.
Here.
Mark trudged forwards, even in the relative shelter of the trees, the snow was a foot deep. "Hello!" He yelled again.
Mark thought he saw a dark shadow move, and headed towards one of the larger trees.
Here.
Mark's heart started to thud harder in his chest as he saw someone huddled against the base of the tree. Slowly, sleepily, he raised his head.
"Damian? Why are you here?"
Damian shivered, his blue lips struggling to part to form words.
Mark saw the signs – Damian was slipping towards hypothermia. He had to act now. Mark ducked down and grabbed Damian's arm. "Come on, I need to get you up."
Damian blinked, tears of pain springing to his eyes as his stiff joints were straightened. Mark felt a mild relief that he could still feel pain, that was good news. They didn't have time to waste, and Mark used all his strength to heft Damian to his feet. Damian stumbled, using the tree and Mark to try and stay upright.
Knowing that walking wasn't going to be an option, Mark pulled Damian up onto his shoulders in a fireman's lift. As he started the slow progress back to the tractor, he was thankful for all the years of farm work and hard-earned strength. He was still sweating by the time he reached the headlights' yellow light.
Mark put Damian down on his feet, so he could open the door to the cab. With some difficulty, and enough swearing to make his Nanna proud, Mark managed to push Damian up into the cab. He climbed up behind him, realising how tight and cramped this cab was with two grown lads inside.
Feeling like he was going to overheat at any moment, Mark unzipped his heavy coat. "You'll have more use for this."
With more than a bit of awkwardness, Mark helped Damian get out of his frozen coat, replacing it with Mark's much warmer one.
"Right." Mark took a deep breath. Behind the heavy clouds, the sun had already set, and the world was only going to get darker. Mark suddenly felt more nervous about being able to drive home, than the outward adventure. "We can do this."
Mark revved the engine and started to turn the little tractor, he reasoned that if they just kept heading due west they'd eventually get back to somewhere he recognised.
"Hey, Damian, are you still with me?" Mark asked, careful not to take his eyes off the windscreen.
A groan came from behind him.
"What were you doing out here?"
"Not now." Damian said, so quietly he could hardly be heard above the tractor. "I just need to sleep."
"No!" Mark shouted, twisting in his seat so he could hit the curled-up boy. "You've got to stay awake, until we've got you home and checked out."
Damian grumbled something, too slurred for Mark to make out.
"Tell me... tell me something about you, about life." Mark demanded. "What did you do for fun, before you moved up here?"
"Nuthin' much. Played footie." Damian finally answered, trying to cooperate. "I was striker for the local team."
"Really? Were you any good?" Mark asked, leaning closer to the window, trying to make out anything in the blur of black and white, that would tell him they were on the right track.
"Yeah, not bad. I wasn't about to go pro, but I was the top scorer last year."
"Yes!" Mark shouted, then looked back at Damian. "Sorry, I found the first gate."
Once he'd manoeuvred through, Mark stopped the tractor and jumped down from the cab, pulling the gate closed behind him. The snow and bitter wind cut through his jumper, leaving him shivering as he rushed to climb back into the cab.
"So, football." Mark said as he started to drive again. "You should join our school team, they're absolutely dire and could do with someone on the team who knows which direction the goalposts are."
"You don't play?"
"I've got two left feet." Mark shrugged. "I'm not afraid to admit it."
As the tractor forced its way across the snow-laden fields the conversation turned to music and films and anything Mark could think of. Anything except family, and why Damian was out there in the first place.
Eventually lights blinked on the horizon – at first Mark thought he was imagining them, but soon they burnt bright and real. The white turned to red, as the car drove away from them on the road. Mark turned the tractor to the right, never more glad to see a road.
His heart beat faster as he turned into the familiar driveway. The house was aglow with lights, and had never looked better.
Mark cut the engine and opened the cab door as his parents came sprinting out of the house.
"Mark! You stupid, stupid boy!" His father grabbed his shoulders and gave him a fierce shake, followed by an equally fierce hug. "Don't you ever do that again."
"I had to." Mark said, turning back to the tractor. "He needs help. Can you help me get him inside?"
His Mum gasped at the sight of the half-conscious lad curled in the back of the tractor cab. "But how?"
"Not now, Mum." Mark argued.
Between Mark and his Dad, they managed to help Damian walk to the house through the deepening snow. The warmth washed over them all, as they moved inside. Once in the living room, Damian was helped onto the sofa, his limbs shaking in an uncontrollable shiver.
"Shivering, that's good." Mark's Mum stated, quickly switching into nurse mode. "Honey, get him some dry clothes and a blanket. I'll get Nanna, if ever there was a time for her miracle teas, it's now."
Mark watched as his parents went opposite ways out of the room. He stoked up the fire, then returned to Damian. He looked over him carefully, the colour had returned to his skin and lips, but there was still a haunted look in his eyes.
"So are you going to tell me why you were out there tonight?" Mark asked, sitting next to him on the sofa.
Damian refused to meet his eye and looked down at the carpet. "Have you ever... thought the world would be better off without you?"
Mark stared at him, wishing he could unhear that. Before Damian could give an explanation, Mark's Dad walked back in, his arms full with some of Mark's spare clothes, and the guest duvet.
Mark followed his Dad into the kitchen, to give Damian some privacy. He'd never seen his Dad wound so tight, the old man looked like he was getting the kettle on, but he couldn't concentrate on the task.
Finally his Dad rounded on him.
"Do you have any idea how dangerous that was? You could have died?" His Dad snapped, keeping his voice low. His normally soft brown eyes were dark shards as he looked at his son. "I have never been more terrified in all my life. You are never to do anything like this again."
"I'm sor-"
Before Mark could even get the apology out, his Dad grabbed him and pulled him into another hug. "You probably saved that boy's life. I don't know how you did it, but I'm so proud of you."
Mark wrapped his arms around his Dad, feeling his tension ease.
"But you're grounded, for a month." His Dad said, releasing him and giving him a pat on the shoulder.
"I've still got to buy Christmas presents this weekend." Mark argued.
"Well, you can go do that. On the one condition that you get me something much better than that awful scarf from last year."
Feeling somewhat dazed, Mark moved back into the living room, to find Damian curled on the sofa, the duvet tucked tight about him.
"How you feeling?"
Damian looked up at him with a weak smile, "Like I'll never be warm again."
"If there's anything I can do, let me know." Mark replied.
"Well they do say body heat is the fastest way to..." A female voice interrupted.
"Nanna!" Mark and his Mum shouted at the same time.
Nanna looked down at Damian, smiling. "You must be the new guy."
"You must be the witch." Damian returned, humour in his bright blue eyes.
Nanna nodded. "I like this one."
Mark's Mum gave her a warning look, and pushed past her into the room. She held a thermal flask in her hands, which she gave to Damian. "This is Nanna's miracle tea, sip it slowly."
Damian sniffed at the open flask, "What does it do?"
"It basically warms your blood. It's all herbal." Nanna answered.
"And it won't turn me into a toad?" Damian asked, taking a cautious sip.
"No, but I might."
Mark's Mum butted in before Nanna got warmed up to the banter. "Damian, I don't think you need the hospital, but I would recommend seeing a doctor tomorrow. Now, shall I call your aunt and see about getting you home?"
"No!" Damian's outburst caught everyone by surprise. "Sorry, I..."
Mark frowned, the lad's reluctance plus his previous comment was worrying. He felt a need to keep him under this roof to find out why. Mark turned to his Mum. "It might be safer if he stayed, rather than taking the roads tonight."
His Mum looked between them, then sighed. "Fine, I'll call your aunt to let her know that you're safe and staying over. Dad, can you start dinner? We have an extra guest."
Mark watched as his parents both moved towards the kitchen – he had no doubt that they were looking for an excuse for a private conversation.
"Mark, a word." Nanna said, gesturing towards the hall.
"I'll be back in a min." Mark gave an awkward smile towards Damian, before he followed his Nanna out of the room. "What's up?"
"You were right."
"Really? That's great!" Mark said, grinning. "But... what am I right about?"
"The boy's aura, there's something tainting it."
"What does it mean?"
A look of worry crossed Nanna's face, but she quickly hid it. "I don't know, it's not something I've seen before. I'll do some reading and talk to some other witches... In the meantime, I want you to keep an eye on him."
"That shouldn't be a problem."
Nanna softened a little. "It seems you were meant to get that spell wrong. Right, go on, back to your new friend."