by Bret Tallent
Suddenly, an answer came to him. It came to him with the garage door opener he found in the living room. It was the door opener to the police station. At least there they might be safe. At least there they might find help. At least there was somewhere, and he desperately needed to be somewhere right away. So he thrust the remote into his jacket pocket and headed back for the kitchen.
"Do you think he can ride on a snowmobile?” Mike asked as he rounded the corner.
"Bet your butt.” Nick replied shakily. "I'm just a little light headed, that's all."
"We knew that.” Mike said, pleasantly startled. "So what's your real problem?"
"YOU!” they said together and smiled. Sarah only bit her lip nervously.
"What's your plan?” Nick prompted.
"Well, I thought we should get somewhere we could hold up and wait for help, maybe even defend ourselves. I kind of figured the best place was the courthouse. At least there are weapons there, and it’s a pretty formidable building. And, I thought that's where Hayden would end up, after this...if he's still...” Mike's voice trailed off.
"Sounds like a plan.” Nick agreed.
"Anything is better than staying here.” Sarah agreed.
CHAPTER 15
By two o'clock the snow had eased and fell as only a light dust. The cloud cover however, had thickened and descended to touch the earth. Hayden could no better see now than he could when the blizzard was at its peak. The world was a fog shrouded haze and it was impossible to discern where the land ended and the sky began, or which direction was which.
So it was with mild surprise that Hayden discovered he'd entered the town of Donner, a couple of miles to the southeast of Copper Creek. He'd traveled roughly in a half circle and was not much closer to home than when he had started. There would be no help here either, Donner was a summer town and closed up entirely in the winter. Its residents went back to the cities when the snows fell, back to their businesses or jobs, or just to a warmer climate. Back to whatever it was they did for nine months out of the year.
It was strange, Hayden thought. He often wondered what kind of people lived here. What kind of people could just come up here and live for three, or five, or even seven months and then just disappear until spring? He knew that they were mostly fairly well to do retired folks, and always an occasional touristy type. But it all seemed strange. An entire town simply closed up for the season. Its buildings vacant, its streets empty.
Hayden trembled involuntarily for a moment. It suddenly felt as though he were in a town of the dead. The wind added to the sensation with its morose wail, the voice of the damned. It was a searching wind too, wandering the desolate streets in search of souls. It carried with it wisps of snow, feral flakes loosely held together in little groups, little hunting parties.
The little hunting parties then tapped lightly upon windows and sideboards. They scratched restlessly upon exposed door frames and shudders. Some would come to rest upon a drift against a wall and wait, while others would move on and hunt some more. They stalked the empty streets of Donner, buried deep beneath the snow. They seemed as scouts for the others that would come later, and collect what had been found. They were coming.
Hayden trembled again. He'd been up through Donner many times in the winter, but it had never given him the creeps the way it just had. He realized that it was now a part of the evil he'd felt at Ellis', the evil that was all around him. Suddenly, he didn't feel safe here. Instinctively, Hayden probed his surroundings with his eyes, searching desperately. He studied his path in the snow but could make out little.
Then he turned his attention on the houses and buildings nearby. Most were buried to within two or three feet of their roofs. Others were buried entirely, white mounds that resembled impossible ant hills. The two or three feet of the exposed buildings were dark brown against the white and looked like the mouths of uninviting caves. A few showed windows, frosted and frozen, but there was no movement anywhere.
It didn't help, just because he didn't see anything didn't matter. Hayden knew that they were coming. A feeling of futility washed over him for an instant but he quickly fought it back. He needed to keep moving, that was all. But he was so tired. Every muscle ached, except for his feet and hands, they were numb. He was so tired, and now that he had paused, he felt the cold again. It seeped into his clothes and under his face mask. Then his body began to rack in tremors.
Hayden was exhausted and freezing. He was a bull, he knew, he could hold his own against a great many things. But this was too much to ask of any man. He couldn't fight it all, not everything he was now up against. Not all at once. The big man's mind was reeling. For the first time in his life, he was near to giving up. Hayden leaned his head over the handlebars and closed his eyes, trying to think, trying to cope.
The quietude of his despair was shattered just then by an ear piercing shriek. The hair on the nape of his neck stood on end for what he decided would not be the last time today. Hayden jerked his head up and shot glances around his position again. Nothing. But that shriek gave him his determination back. Hayden put all of his weight off the side of the snowmobile and punched the throttle.
His legs and arms quivered under the strain and he felt rubbery. Hayden cursed himself then for stopping. That brief pause had allowed his fatigue to register, allowed the cold to affect him. The machine felt like a lead sled and his efforts to handle it were becoming painful. Hayden relaxed and simply leaned with it and allowed the crippled machine to make its arc to the right. He moved out away from the frozen village toward home.
Hayden Smith was only one hundred yards from the last building of Donner when his strength finally faltered. Halfway across a flat level glade, the mangled ski dipped. It caught the snow instantly and spun the back of the snowmobile around it like the pencil in a compass. Hayden tried with all of his might to lift that side of the machine, but its own force prevented him from doing so.
There was no response from his hands either. He struggled to send the messages through to release the throttle, but the only reply was a searing pain that shot up his arms and drained the strength from them. So he rode it. Like a bronco rider just hanging on until the bell rings, he just stayed with it. The alternative, if he could convince his hands to release their death grip, was to be flung off into the snow.
The machine had made its second circle around the point of the mangled ski when Hayden heard a loud clacking. It was the sound of his track hitting ice. Hayden looked down to the inside of the circle he was forming and a realization came over him. He wasn't on a glade at all; this nice level patch of ground was Macy pond. It was frozen over and covered with about a foot of snow, but this was the pond.
Hayden kept staring at the ice, he was exhausted and his thinking was muddled. The circular motion was having a hypnotic effect on him. He watched as the track began chewing up the ice and throwing it out onto the snow. He watched the twisted ski dig a hole like a cork screw. He watched it all and did nothing but ride his bronco. His thinking was slow, and his reactions slower still. The ice was already beginning to moan before he could force himself to move.
There was a loud creak and a pop and the ice gave way to his weight just as he tried to pull the machine straight. Then suddenly, Hayden felt the seat get light under him and he was gaping at the sky. Panic coursed through him as the machine began to sink. The water was at his crotch before he even felt it, and then he looked down horrified. With every bit of strength he could muster, Hayden threw himself from the drowning machine.
His hands reluctantly gave up their hold, but not before pulling Hayden below the surface of the frigid water. The snowmobile disappeared into the blackness beneath him and sucked at him momentarily to join it. Hayden fought it, arched his back violently and threw his head up out of the water, sucking in large amounts of air and some of the pond. He thrashed about wildly for a moment until he was able to get his bearings.
His clothes were as anchors in their sodden condition and he struggl
ed to keep his head above the surface. The edge of the ice was only a few feet away but it looked like an ocean's expanse. Hayden reached for it, strained for it. He kicked and pawed toward it, every stroke a tremendous effort. Finally, one gloved hand reached the lip and he pulled himself to it.
But that was the last of Hayden's strength. He had no more to give, no more to use. He clung tenaciously to the jagged ice, but couldn't pull himself up onto it. There was a throbbing in his elbows and on up his arms, it was all he could do to hold on, and he knew that it would not be for too much longer. Already his world was getting fuzzy. He found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on a single thought.
The cold didn't even matter any more, he couldn't feel it. He was just tired. He actually found himself wanting to let go and slip into the abyss. It would be so nice, so easy to just let go. He was tired of struggling and sleep would be so welcome.
The darkness, the darkness was all around him now. It was in him too, he was a part of it. It was there to help him sleep, to comfort him. He could feel its song, the sweet song of an incredible rest. So Hayden relaxed. He relaxed and let the darkness come in.
Somewhere off in the fuzzy distance he heard a growl and a roar, but he wouldn't let it intrude on his darkness. The darkness was sweet and in it he saw her. He saw Barbara. She was a Barbara of nineteen and she was reaching out to him. Her arms were opened wide to receive him. Her skin was soft and white and unblemished, her bosom full and firm. She stood before him, invitingly.
Her hair was long and flowing gently about her head, carried in the currents of crystal clear water. She spoke his name and called him to be with her, and Hayden wished to be with her. He wished to be with the woman he fell in love with all those years ago. He longed to be with her, and talk to her, and somehow, he knew she would be able to listen. So Hayden reached for her.
But as he reached for her, her features turned skeletal. Her face twisted in a death grin, a Grim-Reaper's smile, the flesh falling from it. Hayden gasped in horror. He tried to scream but there was no sound. He tried to move but couldn't. He could only watch the bony hands jut towards him, grasp for him.
He finally managed to pull away from the Barbara-thing's grasp but couldn't turn his head. He stared at it in terror, a ghoulish longing etched into the skull. Its eyes were huge round balls that peered into Hayden's soul, their green pupils a stark contrast to the white that surrounded them. The Barbara-thing's hair looked like the flame on a grotesque candle, waving frantically in a maniacal breeze. Hayden couldn't bring his eyes away from the horrific creature.
He backed away from it and it stopped, arms still outstretched. Then it spoke to him. It was a gravelly voice, harsh and not feminine at all. It was the voice of hundreds, and there was agony in it, and pain. Hayden could feel the loathing in the voice(s), could feel the sick desire, the pain. Despite the absence of lips, it enunciated clearly.
"Come to me Hayden. We need you.” it pleaded.
"No.", Hayden muttered, shaking his head but never leaving its gaze.
Suddenly, the voice(s) grew harsh and bitter, "Then see what's waiting for you! We hope you like it, it's the only way you'll ever see Barbara again!” it croaked. And as Hayden shook his head the Barbara-thing began to decay. Its eyes fell out and left empty black craters with rotting nerve endings wiggling in the sockets. Its flowing red hair turned grey and dropped away in chunks.
Hayden screamed, and screamed again. But there was no sound except that of a distant snarl. Then he felt something on his back, a pressure, a hand. Then all at once, his world went completely dark and he felt nothing.
***
By the time they had reached the courthouse, Mike's anxiety was at a peak. They had been far too lucky for too long, something bad had to be coming. He looked around expectantly and found nothing, except that the snow had nearly stopped falling. Maybe things were going to get better, he hoped. But somehow he didn't think so. Somehow, he knew they would get worse before they got better, much worse.
So he sighed and looked around for the big bay doors. He knew that they were here somewhere, he just couldn't see them. Then he realized that he was looking too high, he should have been looking down. The doors were right in front of them, all four feet of them. The drift they'd climbed up this morning had all but covered the huge doors. Damn near sealed them. He thought a moment, and then decided that this might not be such a bad thing.
Mike reached into his pocket and pulled out the remote, aimed it and punched the button. There was a long groan and a clank and the door jerked once then fell silent. He pushed it again and the door popped down about two inches. Then Mike pressed the button again. Grooooaaaaan! POP! Grooooaaaan again and the door jerkily began to rise. It was ever so slow and protested wildly, but eventually it opened.
The fluorescent light from the bay cast a surreal glow out the tiny opening and Mike sighed heavily. He peered in the opening and it looked just as it had this morning. Suddenly, he felt a whole lot better. The next problem was how to get the snowmobiles in; he didn't think it would be wise to leave them out. He thought and thought and the only way seemed to be the direct approach.
So he climbed off his machine and immediately sank about four feet in the soft snow. He waded over as close to the opening as he dared, and began to kick and throw and push snow into the opening. In a few minutes, he had made about a six foot hole down into the doorway, and a small pile down in the bay. Satisfied, he fought his way back to his snowmobile and pulled himself up onto it. He gave a look back to Sarah and Nick, shrugged, and throttled his machine down the fresh rut.
It was a wild ride and a quick drop that got his adrenaline to pumping for a moment, then it was over. Not too bad, he decided. He pulled his machine out of the way and killed it, then motioned for Sarah to follow. She looked back at Nick doubtfully, sighed, and then eased them down into the trench. They landed with a soft thud and a jerk, and it was over. Sarah was surprised.
She moved the machine at Mike's gesture then killed its engine as well. Behind her, Mike was already scraping snow out of the way so the big door could be lowered. Nick was helping as best he could, but he still wasn't at his best. She wondered then what had happened to him; they never had a chance to ask him before. They would find out soon enough she decided and began to help them. Before long, the door grumbled downward slowly and sealed the opening. For the first time all day, she felt safe. Well, safer anyway.
Nearly exhausted, the three of them plopped down on the seats of the snowmobiles. Sarah sat beside Nick on one, and Mike took the other. Each of them removed hats and goggles and gloves, and unzipped their jackets. Not a word was said for a moment or two, and then Sarah finally broke the silence.
"Are you okay Nick?” she asked, concerned.
"Yeah, still just a little shaky. I'll be okay.” he replied and gave her a weak smile. Dried blood was smeared under his nose and around his mouth, and one ear was rimmed in it.
"You sure?” Mike asked, reaching over and placing a hand on his shoulder.
"Yeah."
"Well, then what happened? Was it the same as before?"
"Before what?” Sarah asked.
"This morning at Hayden's house.” Mike answered, "Nick got a nose bleed and passed out." As an afterthought, "It was right before he sensed that you were in trouble."
"Really?"
"Yeah," Nick continued, "I got one of those feelings like we get, you know?" Sarah only nodded and let him continue. "I knew something was wrong and you needed me. Well, in the middle of it, there were these...voices. They were from somewhere outside and they were, teasing me, tormenting me. Then I got this killer pain in my head and I blacked out. I guess my nose started bleeding too?" Sarah only stared at him nodding slowly.
Nick went on, "Well this time, after I saw the house, I just sort of snapped. I thought I heard Barbara calling out to me for help, she just kept saying how cold she was. Then the voices came again. They were stronger this time though, harsher. It's not th
at they really said anything, it was just...” he struggled to find the words but couldn't, "just like I was thinking their thoughts. I could feel what they felt, for an instant. Then my head felt like it was going to pop and the next thing I knew, I was waking up in the kitchen."
"What was it like, their thoughts?” Mike asked curiously.
Nick thought a moment, and then said flatly, "Insanity."
Mike only nodded, but Sarah looked sympathetically at her brother. She was trying so hard to understand, but just couldn't. She guessed she never would either; it was something you would have to go through. As much as she loved her brother, she would be just as happy if this was something they never shared.
"Well.", Mike broke the silence, "What do you say we check this place out?" He stood and offered a hand to both Nick and Sarah.
Taking his hand, "Yeah, the sooner the better. I guess?” Nick let Mike pull him up. Sarah took the help up without comment, feeling not quite as safe as she had a few moments ago. Nick walked around the two to the back of the snowmobile they'd gotten from Hayden this morning and opened the back compartment. He rifled around for a moment and pulled out a flare gun and six flares.
"Ahhh!” he said with approval. "After what Sarah told us, this ought to light a fire under some of those things."
Mike nodded, "How many flares are there?"
"Only six."
Sarah offered, "There might be some more in my snowmobile."
Nick looked there and found four more. "Well, if the sheriff's got a flare gun, he might just have more flares somewhere. He might even have another gun." Mike and Sarah nodded.
