The other woman leaned back slightly, and Memory hid a smile. It wasn’t like her to shock other people, but sometimes people changed. Her sister had to lose this battle, and if that meant Memory had to throw some snowballs, so be it.
Mayor Charles gave the signal, and a flurry of snow kicked up on both sides of the field as both teams began to form snowballs as quickly as they could. Memory did her best to scoop handfuls of snow and round them off quickly while still watching what was going on. Dak only had two snowballs in his hand when he took off for the other team’s fort, two other men on each side and the kids leading the way.
Snowballs started flying almost immediately. Dak was the closest and biggest target, so he was bombarded quickly. Many of them missed the mark as he ducked and dodged, but several hit, and Memory found herself praying none of them hit him in the face. He was inching his way closer to the enemy fort, though, and her sister began barking orders at people, trying to hit him with as many snowballs as she could herself.
The other team had sent some runners as well, and Maison and the people who had taken up that mid-way position started pounding them with snowballs, even the small children. Lorelei took one in the side of the head from a bigger kid, and started crying. Memory wanted to run over and get her, but Bryce was close enough to pull her over without getting hit himself and wipe her crocodile tears. Memory was sure she’d be fine in a minute, but it still tugged at her heartstrings.
Dak was getting closer to taking the flag. She could tell the purples were getting nervous. They were scooping up handfuls of snow and throwing him at him, not even in shaped into balls. He might actually take the flag in a few more minutes, which had to be a record.
“All right, I think that’s plenty,” Nancy said. “Let’s get these to the front lines.”
As if they knew something she didn’t, everyone else scooped up armloads of snowballs and ran them forward to Maison’s line, some of them even sprinting into enemy territory to deliver the snowballs. Memory stood watching, not sure what to do. She had about ten snowballs at her feet, and if Dak made it to the fort soon, she wouldn’t need them.
Over to her right, Memory saw a flash of blonde hair and a purple buff as a snowball nailed Maison in the face, followed by another and another. Kirsten—she was infiltrating their lines. Only Memory and an older woman from church named Hazel were near the flag. The snowball makers were headed back, the second line all engaged in keeping the other purples at bay, but Kirsten had Maison back on his heels, and there was no one else to stop her.
Memory sucked in a deep breath as her brother-in-law tumbled backward to the ground, covering his face with his hands. She reached down and picked up as many snowballs as she could, cradling most of them in the crook of her arm but keeping two in her hand.
Kirsten was running as fast as she could, sucking in air, her hair wild, a snowball in her mittened hand. Behind her, Dak was almost to the enemy fort, but some of the older guys from church were bombarding him with snow from both directions. If he didn’t get to that flag before Kirsten reached the red one... all would be lost.
Memory did what she had to do. Wheeling back, she let the first two snowballs fly. The first one went wide, but the second one hit its mark, striking Kirsten squarely in the neck. Her sister squealed and threw her own ball. Memory ducked, and it flew over her head. She plucked another bullet out of her elbow-chamber and threw it as hard as she could at the approaching target. It exploded in a shower of ice as it contacted Kirsten’s forehead, slowing her considerably. One hand went to her face as the other flung her last snowball at Memory.
The shot was nowhere close. Memory stepped into her next throw, aiming for her sister’s nose. She missed low, but it still hit her in the chest, throwing snow particles as it was obliterated upon impact. Memory fired again and again, watching out of the corner of her eye as Lorelei re-entered the game, running as fast as she could toward her mom, toward her aunt, toward the flag.
Kirsten was stumbling backward now, her head spinning from another shot to the face. Memory had two snowballs left. Over Kirsten’s head, she saw Dak closing in on the flag while Lorelei sprinted toward the red fort. Memory plunked another snowball into her sister’s face as Dak stretched, reaching for the flagpole. Lorelei was closing in, her blue eyes flickering between the flag and her aunt, almost daring her to throw a snowball her direction.
“Run, Lor, run! Aunt Mem won’t hit you with a snowball!” Kirsten sounded desperate, pleading.
“Yes, I will! Don’t do it, Lorelei!”
Her niece giggled, steps from rounding the corner and stepping behind the fort where Memory wouldn’t be able to reach her anymore. If she didn’t throw now, she wouldn’t be able to.
Kirsten could still get past her, though, and Memory was out of ammunition after this last ball. The idea of knocking her sweet little niece in the head with a snowball, of being the one to make her cry, was too much. She couldn’t do it. But she might be able to scare her. If she threw wide, maybe Lorelei would slow down long enough to give Dak a chance to get the flag. She had to decide. Right. Now.
Out of nowhere, a flash of red and brown appeared in the air over Lorelei’s head. She stopped running. “Cardinals!” she shouted in her cute little voice. “Hi, birdies!”
“Lor! No! Get the flag!” Kirsten begged. “Leave the birds alone! Get the red flag!”
The birds danced in front of her, and Lorelei giggled and reached for them. Dak’s fingers flickered across the wooden pole, pushing it away slightly before he made a second attempt, and as his hand wrapped around the flagpole, the snowball in Memory’s hand flew from her grasp shattering at full speed as it made contact with the ground.
The air horn blew, and Mayor Charles announced, “Red team, you are the winners!”
“No!” Kirsten sunk to her knees on the ground in front of Memory, her head in her hands. “Stupid birds!”
The cardinals fluttered away, disappearing back into the trees, and Lorelei ran over to tell her mom all about them while Memory smiled across the field at the handsome man with the red flag in his hand. They’d done it.
Kirsten pulled herself up off of the ground. “You’re going to enjoy slamming me in the face with another snowball, aren’t you?”
“I didn’t want to slam you in the face with any snowballs, sis. I could’ve thrown that last one at you. No, I’m not going to stand across from you for the firing squad. But, something tells me when this is over, you’re going to wish it had been me.”
“What do you mean?”
Memory gestured with the top of her head over Kirsten’s shoulder, and her older sister slowly turned to see her husband standing back where she’d left him lying on the ground, a freshly formed snowball in his hand. He tossed it up into the air a few times, catching it each time, the grin on his face letting his wife know exactly who her executioner would be.
“Memory, uh, do you think, maybe you could do it?” Kirsten asked.
Laughing, Memory patted her niece on the head, walking toward the rest of her team who was jumping up and down, cheering around the flag. “Nope.” She’d gotten all of the vengeance she needed. It was Maison’s turn, and she had a flag stealer to hug.