Most of the US was hit by some kind of weather this week. Some folks were left without power for days. Kids who never thought they’d get snow in their backyards made snow angels. Dogs peed in litter boxes.
It was mayhem!
When the polar vortex kicks out this sort of weather craziness it makes you wonder if there isn’t something more nefarious going on… I’m not talking about conspiracies here, I’m talking about Elementals!
This week’s story was inspired by my own experience climbing the mountain trail up to the mountain named The Storm King. At the top, I experienced some of the rip-roaring-est winds I’ve ever had the pleasure of feeling try to tear me off a hogback.
I was humbled.
5 years later I wrote about a mountain called Storm King.
Check it out!
Storm King
Jill N Davies
The music blared, filling the SUV. Haven bobbed his head to the beat as he eased the unwashed behemoth to a stop and Echo rolled her window down.
“Is this the way to Storm King?” Echo asked, sticking her head out the passenger window.
The ranger tilted her head to the side and furrowed her eyebrows. She was an older woman. Haven tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, wondering why rangers were always older.
“I’m sorry, what?” the ranger asked.
Echo slapped his arm. “Turn down the music,” she admonished.
Haven rubbed his arm, smarting more emotionally than physically. He turned the music off with the stankiest gesture he could muster.
“Storm King. Will this road take us there?” She repeated.
“Well yeah, but I wouldn’t if I were you. There’s a storm coming,” the ranger answered.
Haven smirked. She sounded like a harbinger from a horror flick. ‘Storm’s a comin’!’ It wasn’t her business. They’d be up and down the mountain before the first drops fell from the gathering clouds.
“I promise we’ll be careful,” Echo gushed, retreating from the window.
Haven barely waited for her to resituate before he put the SUV in drive and lurched forward. The second her window was up he turned the music back on. Foot pressed against the accelerator he joined the chorus and ran, full steam ahead, into the hills.
Echo waited until the SUV was parked and Haven was darting around the car like a frantic hummingbird, gathering supplies before she spoke.
“Should we wait until tomorrow?”
“No way Babe! We’re supposed to hit Ozette tomorrow. If we don’t hit Storm King tonight, we skip it. Do you want to skip it?” He asked, opening his backpack with one hand and grabbing a couple cliff bars from the food bin with the other. He didn’t want to skip it, did he?
“No…” Echo mused. She checked the valve on her hydration pack. “But I think it’s smart to listen to the locals…”
Haven laughed. “That old crow? Come on! She was so old she probably measures the intensity of a storm by the ache of her fake hip. She’s practically from a horror movie—risen from the grave to warn passers-by, beware the Storm King!” He raised his arms into limp claws held over his head and let out a high-pitched warble.
Echo rolled her eyes, tossing his hiking boots into his chest. He caught them reflexively.
“All right. If we’re doing this, let’s get to it. I don’t want to be at the top of a mountain when a gale opens up,” She said, bouncing from her heels to her toes to loosen up.
Haven slipped a narrow foot into his shoe, skipping the laces before repeating with the other. He looked up, past the trees to the ominous-looking exposed peak. He didn’t either…
“Let’s do this!” He cheered, pumping a clenched fist into the cooling air to amp himself up. They took off at an easy jog up the narrow single-track.
Echo and Haven devoured the mountain trail, gaining elevation rapidly until they were looking out over the ridge at the lake far below. The surface was like glass, broken and chipped with a thousand white splinters. Haven stopped long enough to watch a long shadow sweep across the dark waters, sending a chill down his spine.
“I’m glad we didn’t ditch the plan,” Echo breathed, taking in the view. Between the bite of the cold mountain air and the rush of adrenalin, she was feeling positively exalted. Haven, on the other hand, was downright grim.
“Sure” Haven said. The sun was low in the sky and completely obscured by clouds. He didn’t want to admit how the grey light left him unsettled.
From this point they’d leave the partial cover of the trees and make their way across a hogback to the sheer face of Storm King. Somewhere in the trees an eerie sound wafted down. A chirrup followed by a hoarse coo.
“Did you hear that?” Haven asked, searching the sparse branches.
Echo breathed in the sharp smell of pine mixed with the tang of approaching rain. “A crow,” she said dismissively.
Haven liked crows, but not today. It was too dark. The repeated sound vibrated low in his gut. Storm’s a’comin. Beware the Storm King!
“Do you want to call it at the ridge?” He asked.
“Why?” Echo asked, but she sounded as ready as he was.
“Look at the sky. I think it’s going to suck us up.” He said, “Besides, it’s dark. We’re not going to be able to see anything.”
“Is that what you want?” Echo asked. She sounded hopeful.
“I don’t know what I want,” Haven admitted. Yes! It was what he wanted.
She searched his face, not wanting to admit defeat, but not wanting to take another step up the mountain, either. He was right about the light, and probably about the storm, too.
“Some other time then,” she agreed.
Haven nodded. “Next time.”
The crow took flight, cawing as it made its way noisily down the trail, then across the open sky above the lake. Haven shuddered. They turned to race down the mountain.
Just above the tree-line, no more than 100 feet from where they’d stood, the clouds coalesced. At the center, two pinpricks of glimmering light appeared. Eyes in the swelling darkness of the storm. The eyes blinked and flashes of lightning flowed down across the exposed ridge. It began to rain.
The clouds swept across the mountaintop like hands, searching but not finding. A thunderous roar chased the young hikers down the mountain.
The crow lit on the ranger station below, where the old ranger watched the Storm King search for the hikers.
“Not today, my friend,” she said, tossing a crust onto the roof. The crow took it and purred. The Storm King looked down on the pair, bellowing with thunderous rage. The ranger gave a dismissive wave of her hand and the station’s door slammed shut.
The End
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