--- Iron Anon: Prologue ---
 
>Your name is Anon Stoneman
>Though you were known to your country as Iron Anon
>It had been almost 4 months since Mr. J W Harper’s Carnival Derby
>You’d never forget that race
>You were only 17 (a boy) when you entered to compete
>The family farm sinking into debt didn’t help much to advert your eyes from the $10,000 dollar reward
>It was a lot of money, enough to settle the farm’s debts AND pay for college
>Your father always wanted you to go to college
>He wanted you to have more than just some old farm in the rurals of South Dakota
>If only he could see you now…
>In the derby, you and your sled dog team were pinned against a dozen of the world’s most experienced and toughest mushers
>People from across the globe that did this for a living, as their past-down family trade
>You were just some poor farmer’s boy from America
>But you did have something the rest didn’t,
>A NEED to win
>Everyone at the farm was counting on you
>You also had your youth, which in the end had given you the edge over the others’ decades of mushing experience
>In that ten day long race, you had only slept 34 hours
>You just kept going…
>Needless to say when you crossed that finish line, you immediately collapsed onto your sled and nearly died from exhaustion
 
>When you had woken up days later, you found $10,000 waiting for you
>But it wasn’t just that
>Being one of the only two Americans in the race, the newspapers were buzzing about you
>Mr. Kingsley, a reporter for Kane’s newspaper, had made sure of that
>He had be the one who stepped in and bought your $10 late admission ticket when all you could muster up was $2
>Kingsley had turned your sorry ass into an American Hero
>Even had the audacity to give the nickname of ‘Iron Anon’
>And did the public eat it up
>As soon as you had stepped out of the hospital, you were swarmed by your newfound adorning fans, all waving miniature American Flags
>Banners all over town read “Iron Anon: America’s Hope”
>Men, women, and children would push and shove through the crowds to just simply look at you
>That kind of an attention can get to a teenager’s head sometimes
>However, Ned was there to snap you back to reality
>As soon as you had gotten back home, he directed you straight to the barn
>Ned had been around since you could remember, working the farm with your father
>He was Cheyenne Native American so you could assume he wasn’t a blood relative
>But you still considered him the closet thing you ever had to an uncle
>You also owed him for him training you for the race, so you put up with the intense farm labor
>Soon enough, days turned to weeks, weeks to months
>Your name slowly faded from the papers, replaced by the bold black ink of “WORLD WAR IS OVER”
>Still, whenever you walked into town, you always got cheerful greetings and smiles
>It was nice to be popular
 
>Mr. Burton, your boss (well old boss) still asked you to do small favors at the post-office
>Nothing like having you and the dogs transport mail across towns as you had done for years before
>Just a few odd jobs, here and there, nothing big
>You and the dogs had earned some well deserved rest….
>So if you deserved you rest, why were you working?
>You think you wouldn’t need a few bucks from Burton when you had nearly $10,000 dollars to your name
>Well… you’d be right
>You didn’t need the money.
>But working around the post office was one of those things that made you feel truly at home
>You needed that more than ever
>Seeing how you would be leaving for South Dakota State University in less than 4 days
>It was your dream after all
>Your father’s dream
>You knew very well you wouldn’t be seeing this place for quite awhile…
>???:“You daydreaming again, Anon?”
>Startled in mid thought, you jerk your head up
>Just in time as a slushy snowball flattens across your face
>You were already as cold as it is
>….
“God dammit, Ward”
>Sure enough, after wiping off your face with your wool glove, there he was
>Standing about 15 feet away was Ward, another snowball already armed
>His face was plastered with an eerie grin, no doubt taking joy in numbifying your face
>Ward had been your friend since 3rd grade
>When you had left for the derby, he said you were crazy
>Sometimes you’d take joy in imagining how he reacted when word of your victory had reached town
 
“Was that really necessary? I’m already freezing my ass off!”
>Ward: “Wouldn’t have to if you actually did my dad’s work and stopped being a welcher”
>Oh, Ward was also your boss’s son
>That… could be interesting at times
>What were you doing again?
>Oh yeah, loading the rest of the newspaper bundles onto the loading dock
>Since you had ‘retired’ from your mail delivering business, the local train had pretty much taken over
>It was a bit slower getting the mail out to the other towns than the dogs but only by a few hours
>You were about to load the last one when you got lost in thought
>Normally, you saved the biggest one for last
>That was so you were forced to give your all at the end
>You weren’t trying to become the next Al Treloar
>You just liked to stay in shape…
>But this one was REALLY heavy
>You can take a break once in awhile, right?
“How ‘bout you stop acting like a child and help me lift this thing?”
>Ward: “Nah, I think I’m fine right here”
>Snowball incoming
>-Evading-
>The snowball sails over your ducked head and hitting the dock behind you
>Its surprising loud, rattling the old wooden planks
>Your quick to notice that the noise had gained the attention of something directly behind Ward, about 20 yards away
>It was about 3 feet tall, walked on all fours and was as white as the snow around it
>A smirk comes across your face
*whistle*
>The creature’s ears instantly perk-up and begins sprinting towards you, straight through Ward
>Ward spins around as he hears the beast’s approach, only to have it ram right into his chest, toppling him to the ground
 
>The white canine stands on Ward’s chest for a few moments before walking off towards you
“Good boy, Gus… you just earned yourself some jerky when we get home”
>Gus had been your father’s treasured possession, the team’s lead dog
>His mother was a husky while his father had been a grey wolf
>Naturally, half-breeds are more powerful than the average mutt but have an uncanny tendency to run off and live in the wild
>But your father had somehow completely domesticated and trained Gus from an early age into obeying every whim of his musher
>When you had taken over the team, Ned helped in the transition of you becoming the new master
>Gus had been the worst of the lot
>He’d go out of his way, even cause himself pain, just to try to take a chunk out of you
>Eventually you got so frustrated and ended up biting him back to get even
>Funny thing is, it actually worked
>That, and your father’s whistle
>Just those few notes and you could have Gus and the other dogs at your side within seconds
>During the derby, the whistle had become your own trade mark
>They began calling it “Anon’s Tune”, even though it was really your father’s
>Even now, you can hear the occasional child trying to recreate it
>No matter how close they may get, the dogs never seem to take notice
>Refusing to even acknowledge an imitation of the real thing
>Only you could control the dogs now
>You give a quick pat on Gus’ head before going over to help Ward up
>You and Gus nearly died on the trail to St. Paul
>You both had kept each other alive at one point or another
>Stuff like that tends to bring people close, human or animal
 
“Need a hand?”
>Ward: “Yeah -ta- that be nice”
>You offer a hand and pull him up
>He quickly brushes the snow off himself
>You’re still not in the mood to lift that huge bundle
“So seeing how I so kindly gave you hand…”
>You gesture to the overly sized bundle
>He shrugs with a light sigh and heads over
>Even with the two of you, it’s a burden
“And…ERGGH…That does it”
>Ward: “Jesus, that thing was heavy”
>You both lean on the bundle to catch your breath
>Ward: “…How many days again?”
>You don’t need him to explain what he means
“I’m packing up all day Thursday and then getting on the train Friday morning”
>Ward: “Gotch’a…”
>His voice trails off, either from exhaustion or discontent
>Probably the latter
>You will be the first of your small town to go to college
>Hell, less than half completed Highschool
>They’re families need them here
>Same goes for Ward’s
>Ward: “Will I see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I’ll be down by the General Store getting some feed for the dogs”
>Ward: “Alright, I’ll try to run into you if I can”
“Just no snowballs this time”
>Ward: “I can make no such promises”
>A faint smile returns to his face
“See yeah later Ward”
>Ward: “You too Anon”
>Ward makes his way into the post-office, no doubt to tell his father you were done
>You, on the other hand, had to make it back to the farm for supper
>With Gus at your side, you head to the rear of the post-office
>It was safer to keep dogs and the sled back there as every passing day brought more loud and clumsy trucks down main street
>The dogs were already hooked up to the sled, laying down and basking in the sunlight
>You hook up Gus in the front of the others
 
>The only reason he wasn’t already bound to the sled is because he is STILL the most wild one of the bunch
>If you leave him back there for more than an hour, he chews through the tether and wanders off
>Fortunately, he always stays in ear shot of the sled so you just let him loose
>Might as well cut the rope some slack [spoiler]pun very much intended[/spoiler]
>You flip the sled into position and go over a brief safety check
>Harnesses secured?
>Check
>Sled upright and mounted?
>Check
>No dangerous tanglements?
>Check
>You grab the sled’s arched handle bar and place your left foot on the sled’s footboards
>You push off the soft snow with the right as you whistle again
>The once idle dogs become instantly animated and pull your sled forward with a great jolt
“They’re more anxious than usual today”
>You mummer to yourself
>Well, guess that’s better for you
>Gus knows where you’re going and the dogs seem to have a bit more energy today
>They won’t need your help of driving or cutting a trail today
>You could probably get away with lying out on the sled’s basket if you really wanted
>But no matter how many times you take this way back home, you’ll never let down your guard
>Within a few minutes, you approach the bend you have come to fear
>There on the opposing side of the turn was a small river
>Shouldn’t be anything dangerous, especially with it frozen solid this time of the year
>Nothing to fret over…
>Only thing is you had watched your father drown in that very river nearly 6 months ago
>You remember everything, despite how hard you had tried to forget
 
>You shudder
>You swear you feel Gus shake too
>You had lost a father and he had lost a master
>The dogs don’t even need you to command the dogs to slow down
>They all remembered it all too well
>With the loss of momentum, you now begin to help push the sled, alternating your feet
>The sled couldn’t come off balance and slide into the river at this low speed
>You and the dogs continue your way around
>Almost over.
>You reach the halfway point of the bend when you feel it
>Words can’t describe what you felt
>First, you heard something loud rupture from beneath the earth
>Within seconds, you feel your body,
>The dogs,
>The sled,
>The very earth under your feet swift to the right
>Straight into the river
>A landslide
>How is that even possible?
>The land was barely 3 feet above the river’s water level
>What the hell could have caused it to give away like this?!
>Maybe you would of had time to figure it if you weren’t about to slip into bone-chilling water
>The sudden movement of terrain caused the ice to break apart almost instantaneously
>Naturally, the heaviest part of the sled team comes down the mudslide first
>You.
“Shi-“
>It’s all you can say before the unnerving freeze of water silences you
>The dogs are still on land, pulling against the force of gravity
>Just as they had tried the last time…
>It exhibited the same result
>Your head is the only thing un-submerged, while the sled persistently tries to push you down
>No.
>No way.
>You weren’t going to die like this
>You survived worst than this
>You had gone against a dozen of the finest mushers the world had to offer through 522 miles of freezing hell and endured
>Fuck. You. River
 
>A flash of pain from your right shoulder wakes you from your panic
>You turn and see Gus latched onto your shoulder like a vice
>Only his hind feet rest on shore as his fore paws try to keep balance on a piece of floating ice
>Gus was the lead dog, the front of the pack
>How… How had he gotten out his harness so fast
>You look down at his chest
>Its still there,
>Oh shit
>You look up the newly formed slope to see the whole team tangled in cord
>If one of them lost their footing, they would pull the rest down with them
>That ‘one’ happens to be left wheel dog
>It only takes a moment until you are all pulled into the freezing abyss
>Gus stays on you even as he goes under the water surface
>As you stink, it gets darker and darker
>Without light, you desperately search for your bowie
>Ward’s snowball felt like a warm heat pad
>You can literally feel your body start to shut down
>The word ‘cold’ can’t begin to describe what you are feeling
>Only an empty numbness fills you now…
>You finally find the bowie secured to the top of the supplies on your sled
>Without hesitation, you cut what you think is the line securing the dogs to the sled
>Your action is greeted with severed rope being jerked from your hand and barely audible splashing comes from above
>Good, the dogs were ok now
>At least, most of them
>Gus is still trying to pull you to the surface, practically ripping your shoulder off
>Stubborn one he is,
>Never gives up
>You know it would be impossible to get him off you
>Your waist and everything below is being pinned down by the sled
>You had hit the bottom of the river sometime ago and you were beginning to feel light headed
>Shit
 
>Rocking your hips back and forth, you try to un-wedge yourself from under the sled
>When you are about halfway out, you feel a relief in pressure on your shoulder
>That meant one of two things:
>Gus had finally given up and had gone to the surface
>Or he had drowned trying to save you
>You open your eyes in the blurry, icey water to see a limp body slowly floating upwards next to you
>Dammit
>He was the last thing you had that reminded you of your father…
>Before you grieve for your lost champion, a blinding light begins to illuminate the space around your head
>You twist your head around to see the whole bottom had turned into burning bright light
>At first, the black pebbles and stones of the river bed partially block its shine
>But slowly, they seemingly just… melt away
>…
>You are now being pulled INTO the river bed
>You, your sled and Gus are being sucked back in the glowing dirt of the river’s floor
>What is this?
>Maybe you were dying
>You couldn’t feel anything anyway
>You were really dy-
>Your last thought is cut short as you black out