[ WP ] The snow falls gently on the chainsaw .

The snow falls gently on the chainsaw. There is a noiseless stillness. The wind swirls, the only sound for miles around. The wind is throwing up the snow; creating beautiful figure skaters amongst the clearing. They dance, jumping up and falling down, spinning around gracefully, until they settle on the ground, and new ones are made up. They waltz around the chainsaw, like elegant ballerinas. It. Is absolutely. Inaudible. 
 
 In the sky, you ca n't see anything. Clouded over. Dark. There's no light. Even the lights of the centre are all turned off. All that remain, are a few, wavering pillars of white luminescence. The tall, lumbering pines, the strong, tough maples; they tower over those who sit below. Many sit, in fact. Under one particular pine, two thirteen year old girls, and three thirteen year old boys are perched on low branches, or sprawled out on the ground. One boy, a caramel-skinned, short hockey player, shivers; snow is blown into his face, and he has no scarf. A girl, taller and calm blue-grey eyes, also a hockey player, breathes hard; she ducked under the tree earlier. 
 
 `` When should we go?'' whispers the tall curly-haired boy, the mastermind of this elaborate plot. 
 
 `` I dunno,'' a whisper back. 
 
 They're shaking in their boots and snow-pants. They look over to the right, at the large field. The pillars start and stop; turn on and off; shake and stand stock still. All they can hear is the whistle of the wind. 
 
 `` Do you think we'll find anyone else?'' 
 
 `` No.'' 
 
 `` Well, we might. There are thirty of us.'' 
 
 `` It's too big.'' 
 
 `` Should we go?'' 
 
 `` Yeah, guys, let's go.'' 
 
 The pubescent voices are hushed. Some, just breaking and deepening, others deep already, the girls' cool and mature. They move out of the tree. The tallest boy practically runs. They're all running as best they can through the snow, until; a snap! A stick has broken. They all freeze, and look to the source. One of the girls falls over, tripped up by the snow. She gets a face-full of the stuff. She coughs, a sudden uproar of sound. The white cone of light comes over her. She's in the middle of the path. She stiffens in the snow. No movement. The cone just stands there and looks at her. She squeezes her eyes shut. Tries to ignore the cold seeping into her bones. Everyone else stands there. Silent, inanimate. Statues. She shakes, unseen due to her thick parka. 
 
 Finally, the light disappears, and they hear the crunch, crunch, crunch of something leaving. She takes a breath. `` Tati, you good?'' murmurs the brown-skinned, scarf-less boy. He sounds concerned. His dark brown eyes are drawn. 
 
 `` Yeah, Josh, just a little shaken up,'' she whispers back. `` You need a scarf, Josh. Here, take mine,'' Tati tries to hand it over, but he shakes his head. `` No, no it's okay, I have a tall jacket neck thingy. You'll freeze.'' 
 
 `` A-alright,'' he breathes. He wraps it around his own neck, happy for the warmth, and the smell of *her* overtakes him. The smell of a wood-scented soap, and mint. 
 
 `` Piper, where are we even going?'' the other girl's voice is almost lost in the whistle of the wind. 
 
 `` To a clearing. We're gon na find it. I swear.'' 
 
 `` Nigel, where are you?'' mumbles Piper, shaking the snow from his curly hair. 
 
 `` Right here. I think I can see a clearing. We needa stick together guys, and that means you too Mya.'' 
 
 `` Oh my God Nigel.'' 
 
 He gives her, or what seems to be her, a pointed look. Josh helps Tati up, and the group trudges as quietly as they can through the snow. The only sound is of their breathing, and gale. A tempest of snow has moved in. After a while, they reach the clearing Nigel was talking about. What they see shocks them. 
 
 Piper is the first to react, screaming at the top of his lungs. They all eye the chainsaw on the ground. Blood covers the blade. Beside, a body. Mya is the second. Then the rest. One of the lights comes running towards them. 
 
 `` What's going on?!'' asks the worried teacher. `` What hap-'' 
 
 `` Oh dear lord.'' 
 
 `` W-we just found it we were just walking and we found it Mr. S oh my god, what do we do, who is this?'' 
 
 Questions from the kids are pouring out like water from an overfilled jug. 
 
 `` Well, you certainly found more than the flag. C-come on, walk to the centre. I'll radio in. The activity is over.'' 
 
 They hold on to each other, and walk. All the other teachers, shrouded in their white light are making their way over, while the kids stand confused. 
 
 `` HEAD BACK TO THE CENTRE!'' 
 
 They all nod, and walk up. There, they sit and wait. 
 
 A teacher comes up, finally, and lets them in. Gives them a bedtime snack, allows them to shower and pack up. Tomorrow they're heading back into the city. 
 
 The group of five cry that night.
