Frozen Wasteland

Willa pressed her hands against her chest and searched for shattered ribs or torn skin. She expected her fingers to slip in warm blood. She found only her wet blouse clinging to her skin. The memory of the delivery truck smashing into her side on Fifth Avenue flashed behind her eyes. The grill had crushed the breath out of her lungs. The wet asphalt had scraped her face. Yet she stood here without a single scratch. She was dead. The realization crashed over her and stole the air from the room.

"What audience?" Willa asked the silent passengers. "Who is watching us?"

"Nobody you know," the man standing next to the metal pole said.

"I did not sign up for a game," Willa said. "I want to get off this bus right now."

"You cannot," the man said. He did not move from his spot.

"Are you the one in charge?" Willa asked. She stepped closer to him and glared into his eyes.

"I am just a passenger," the man said.

"You just dragged me onto a bus full of corpses," Willa said. "I demand you open those doors and let me out."

"I saved your life," the man said.

"I am already dead," Willa said. "The voice just said so. A truck hit me on Fifth Avenue and I felt my bones break."

"I saved you from the void," the man said. He gestured toward the windows with a nod of his head. "The void outside the station is worse than death. It shreds souls who miss the transit."

"I do not believe you," Willa said.

"Look out the window," the man said.

"I see fog," Willa said.

"That is not fog," the man said. "That is the grinder. You expect a magic bus to take you to a pleasant afterlife?"

"I do not expect anything from you," Willa said.

"Good," the man said. "Because you are a newbie. You will probably die in the first ten minutes anyway."

"I am not going to die for entertainment," Willa said. "I am going to survive this."

"Everyone says that," the man said. "Then the monsters find them."

"I am not afraid of monsters," Willa said.

"Then you die," the man said. He leaned against the pole and crossed his arms over his broad chest.

"Excuse me?" Willa asked.

"You die," the man repeated.

"I will fight you right now," Willa said. She raised her fists and planted her feet on the rusted floorboards.

"Not by my hands darling," the man said with a slow smirk. "The dead worlds will eat you up soon enough."

A digital screen flickered to life above the empty driver seat. Green letters scrolled across the black glass in a steady rhythm. The sign announced their destination as Frostbite Tundra.

A biting draft swept through the aisle and extinguished the stale air. Willa stared at the screen while her jaw dropped. The chill seeped through her wet clothes and settled deep into her bones. The fear of the afterlife vanished. A blinding surge of anger replaced her panic. The faces of Ethan and Chloe tangled in her bed sheets flooded her mind. She had just lost her apartment and her savings to horrible betrayers. She had worked her fingers to the bone to support a man who used her. Now she had to entertain a twisted audience in a frozen wasteland because his betrayal pushed her into the street.

"Go to hell Ethan," Willa screamed at the top of her lungs.

A loud mechanical hiss interrupted her shout. The doors of the bus snapped open. A violent gust of wind howled into the cabin and carried sharp crystals of snow. The passengers sitting in the rows suddenly animated. They stood up and marched toward the exit in a mindless herd. The invisible force of the game system shoved everyone forward.

Willa stumbled down the metal steps. The invisible pressure hit her back and pushed her out into a blinding white storm. Her bare feet sank into snow that reached past her ankles. The bus doors slammed shut behind her. The vehicle dissolved into the swirling blizzard and vanished without a trace.

The cold hit Willa instantly. The temperature sat well below zero. The wind sliced through her thin work blouse and turned the soaked fabric into an icy cage against her skin. Several other passengers began to panic around her.

Willa hugged her arms against her chest and gritted her teeth. She could not afford to panic. Her mind raced to process the rules of this new reality. Before she died she made a living writing web novels. She had spent the last five years typing out stories about apocalyptic worlds and survival systems. She had actually published a very popular story about a frozen apocalypse just last year. In that novel the main character survived the snow because they found a hidden advantage upon arrival. Her readers called it a golden finger. It was a secret tool or a cheat ability that separated the winner from the victims.

This game must operaton the exact same logic. The voice on the bus had called it a survival game. Games always had loot. Games always had hidden mechanics. Willa refused to believe she was dumped into the snow just to freeze in ten minutes. There had to be a golden finger somewhere nearby. She just needed to find it before her core temperature dropped too low.

She scanned the white landscape. She looked for glowing items or floating text. She needed an advantage to survive this ice age. She decided right then and there that she would find this golden finger and use it to conquer the frozen land. She would build her own sanctuary. She would show all men that she did not need them to survive. She would prove she was better off alone.

Footsteps crunched in the snow behind her. Willa spun around and narrowed her eyes.

The handsome man from the bus walked toward her. He wore heavy boots and a thick jacket that shielded him from the wind. He navigated the deep snow with confident steps. He did not look like a scared victim. He looked like a predator assessing the terrain.

"The other newbies are already freezing to death," the man said. "You are shivering."

"I am fine," Willa said. She clamped her jaw shut to keep her teeth from chattering.

"You are wearing a wet shirt in a blizzard," the man said. "You will lose your fingers to frostbite in an hour."

"Do not worry about my fingers," Willa said. She took a step back and created distance between them.

"My name is Carl," the man said. "I am a military veteran. I have survived extreme weather operations before. I know how to build a shelter and find heat."

"Good for you," Willa said.

"I am offering you a team," Carl said. He held out his gloved hand. "You have a lot of fire in you. I like that. I can help you pass the first few days while you figure out the rules of this place. We can keep each other alive."

Willa stared at his extended hand. The leather glove looked warm. For a brief second the offer sounded like salvation. Her toes were already going numb and her lungs burned with every breath. Teaming up with a strong veteran made logical sense. He could protect her from the monsters he mentioned on the bus. He could help her find her golden finger.

Then she looked at his handsome face. He looked confident. He looked like a man who expected women to rely on him.

The image of Ethan smiling at her replaced Carl. Ethan had promised they were a team too. Ethan had told her he would support her while she wrote her novels. He took her money and her food and her trust. He took everything she had and then he invited her sister into their bed. Men always promised partnership when they wanted to use you. They offered help just to make you dependent. Willa felt the rage boil in her chest and it warmed her blood better than any fire.

"Get your hand away from me," Willa said.

"I am trying to help you," Carl said. He dropped his hand and frowned.

"I do not need your help," Willa said. "I do not need any man dragging me down."

"You are being irrational," Carl said. "You are barefoot in the snow. You will die alone."

"I would rather die alone than owe a man anything," Willa shouted. The wind swallowed her words but she stepped closer and yelled right into his face. "You think you can just swoop in and be my savior? You think I need a big strong veteran to build me a fire?"

"I think you need to survive," Carl said.

"I will survive on my own," Willa said. "I am done taking care of men. I am done trusting men. Every single one of you is a parasite in disguise."

"You do not even know me," Carl said. His calm expression cracked. A flash of irritation crossed his eyes.

"I know exactly what you are," Willa said. "You want an alliance so you can use me as bait later. You want a companion so you do not have to sleep alone in the cold. Keep your shelter and keep your jacket. I am not interested."

"Fine," Carl said. He turned away from her and adjusted his collar against the wind. "Freeze to death. I will not ask again."

"Good," Willa said.

She turned her back on him. She marched away into the blinding snow. Her bare feet burned against the ice but she ignored the pain. She let her hatred fuel her steps. She focused all her energy on scanning the white horizon for anything that looked like a clue or a tool. She was a writer who built worlds from scratch. She could figure out the mechanics of this frozen hell without a veteran telling her what to do.

A loud chime echoed from the sky. The sound mirrored the ringing of a massive cathedral bell. The noise cut through the howling wind and stopped Willa in her tracks.

The mechanical voice from the bus boomed across the tundra. The sound seemed to originate from the clouds themselves.

[Attention Participants]

Willa looked up at the grey sky. The snowflakes stuck to her eyelashes.

[The survival game has officially commenced in the Frostbite Tundra. The rules are simple. Survive the dead worlds and entertain the audience. The ultimate victor who clears the final world will receive the grand prize. A full physical revival back on your original Earth.]

The wind seemed to stop blowing for a fraction of a second. Willa processed the words carefully. The system offered a grand prize. A full physical revival. She could go back to her original Earth. She could go back to Mercer Street.

The numbness in her fingers vanished. The stinging pain in her feet faded away. She pictured herself waking up in her own body. She pictured herself walking back into her apartment to find Ethan and Chloe. They thought they had won. They thought they had taken her life and her home. If she won this game she could return and take everything back. She could make them pay for pushing her into the street.

Willa lowered her gaze from the sky. She stared at the endless ocean of snow in front of her. A dark smile spread across her lips. The cold environment no longer felt like a grave. It felt like a training ground.

"This just got more interesting," Willa said to the empty tundra.