Eleanor loaded it up with the bags of groceries as Stone crutched over, sat down, and patted his stomach beneath his puffy winter coat. “At least I’m not as heavy as I used to be.”
I offered him an anxious smile. I wasn’t worried about that; I was worried about the dark clouds swallowing the sun and whether or not we’d find shelter before it happened. Sometimes it seemed the sky gave warning; other times it didn’t. You’d blink, and when your eyes opened, the world had turned black.
We moved at a snail’s pace because we were exhausted, beaten, frightened, and, above all else, freezing cold. After nearly an hour, I called it quits.
I pointed ahead, where, buried beneath mounds of snow, a house stood. It was two stories, but the roof was mostly covered. Snow only dusted the chimney, which pointed to the graying sky.
“How about there?” I shouted over the wind.
Eleanor and Stone both looked to where I was pointing.
“What if it’s not empty?” Eleanor asked after a still moment. “What if whoever’s inside doesn’t want us there?”
“We have a shit-ton of food,” Stone said. “Even if the owner of the house is the head of the Ku Klux Klan, I think he’ll be happy to let a black dude like me in.”
“We’ll worry about it when we get there.” I nodded and turned. Eleanor hesitated a moment before following. Stone didn’t really have a choice, since I was his engine.
There was a fence blocking the driveway, but the snow, for the most part, covered it. The fence posts poked out of the mounds. We walked right over it. It took another ten minutes of hard trekking to get there.
Near the front, my snowshoes knocked on something metal. I looked down, surprised at the sudden sound, and lifted my foot up. Without my weight pressing on it, the metal popped.
“It’s a car,” Eleanor said, brushing some of the top snow away from where she stood with her shoes. Forest green paint showed through.
That threw me for a loop. I felt like I was at the pinnacle of a skyscraper, looking down at the miniature-sized world below, picturing how my next step forward would have me splattered on the pavement. I felt wrong. And almost being eye level with the second-story window added to this terrible feeling.
The porch was choked with snow. I untied the rope from my waist and walked toward where the top of the front door was slightly visible. Without a shovel and lots of time, both of which we didn’t have, we weren’t entering the house in any normal way. To the right of the door was a picture window covered by a twisted metal awning. The weight of the snow had warped its shape. I began digging beneath it, making enough room for us to fit through. Eleanor came over and helped. After a few minutes, we’d created our own door to the window.
By this point, I was an experienced window breaker. I took the gun out of my pocket, turned my face away, and struck the glass. It completely shattered on the first go. I cleared the edges of any shards and climbed in. Eleanor followed, with Stone going last. He had to crawl on his stomach, unable to get any balance in the fresher layer of snow. Both Eleanor and I got ahold of his arms and guided him over the window’s ledge.
Once we were in, I used the rope to pull the sled through, and then we covered the window with the closest heavy furniture. Not perfect, but I didn’t think we’d be spending the night here, so I wasn’t too worried.
“You know,” Stone said, walking unsteadily toward a nearby loveseat and sitting down, “if you ignore the glass and the ice all over the carpet, this place ain’t too bad.”
Eleanor nodded toward the window. “Anything beats out there.”
“Amen to that,” I said, then I clapped my hands together, a puff of snow leaving my gloves like powder. “All right, let’s explore. Might find something useful here.”
“Split up?” Eleanor asked.
Stone scoffed and shook his head so hard, his hat slipped down and covered half of his face.
“What?” I said.
Before answering, he took the hat off as he let out a few condescending laughs. “I know you guys aren’t the brightest crayons in the box, but you’re not total dumbasses—well, not Eleanor, at least.”
I frowned, rolling my eyes. “Thanks, buddy.”
“Get on with it, Stone,” Eleanor said. “Make your point.”
“Have you never seen a horror movie?”
Eleanor and I glanced at each other, unsure if this was a rhetorical question or not.
“Of course you have!” Stone shouted. “What do the dumb characters do in every horror film?”
“Drugs and premarital sex?” I said.
Stone raised a finger. “Well…yes, but no.”
Eleanor rolled her index finger in a circle.
“The characters,” Stone continued, “always…wait for it…split up! And then the killer clown or hairy, fang-toothed monster picks them off one by one over the course of the movie’s second act.”
“First Tom & Jerry,” I said, “and now you’re lecturing us on horror movies? I think you got into the wrong business, buddy.”
Eleanor cocked an eyebrow up. “Tom & Jerry? You mean that show where the rat torments that poor cat?”
I raised a hand and shook my head. “It’s…a long story.”
“Mouse, actually,” Stone corrected. He flashed me an I-told-you-so look. “See, Grady? She gets it!”
“Let’s stay on topic here,” I said.
“Right, where was I?” Stone gathered his thoughts. “Yeah, splitting up. We can’t do that, man. We’ll get eaten or some shit.”
“He has a point,” Eleanor said. “I hate to admit it, but yeah.”
Stone smiled smugly.
I sighed. “Fine, we won’t split up, but let’s get a move on. I want to be ready to go at first light.”
“Okay, Dad,” Stone said.
I cringed. “Dude, don’t call me ‘Dad.’ That’s weird.”
“Ah, yeah, you’re right.”
Eleanor was chuckling. “You guys are too much sometimes. But I’m glad I have you.”
Stone and I both smiled. I was glad to have them, too.
We searched the house together. It was empty of both people and useful items.
Judging by the white squares on the hallway walls where photos once hung and the open drawers in the master bedroom, which was covered in strewn clothes, whoever owned the place had fled the coop. Couldn’t blame them, either. I wondered how far they had gotten, if they made it to wherever their destination was, and if they were still alive. I doubted it. There was so much snow, you couldn’t drive on the roads. The car was still in the driveway, too. So unless they’d grown wings or had their own personal helicopter, they’d most likely left on foot.
I wondered if Stone, Ell, and I had unknowingly walked over the owner’s frozen corpse.
I shook my head, trying to get rid of the thought. It didn’t work.
We were sitting in the kitchen because it had a big stone fireplace on the back wall. Stone was trying to get it lit, but the wind kept putting out the flames before the logs could catch. Eleanor was going through the pantry, throwing cans and boxes over her shoulder.
“Expired, expired, gross, grosser, expired—”
A can of mushroom soup hit my foot. “Ouch!”
“Oh, you’re fine, Grady.”
“Eh,” Stone added, “if you haven’t noticed yet, Grady’s kind of a baby. Remember that time you cried when we watched The Notebook?”
“Stone, c’mon, man—” I began.
Eleanor turned around. She was holding another can of mushroom soup. “Wait, why were you two watching The Notebook together? That seems kinda…odd.”
Stone laughed uncomfortably and said, “I was just joking,” and that was the end of that story. Thank God.
Wanting to change the subject, I nodded toward the cans on the floor. “Nothing else to eat?”
Eleanor answered with a little smirk on her face. “Not unless you have a taste for Milk-Bones.”
“Dog treats?” Stone
asked as he continued striking the wheel of his lighter.
“Yeah.” Eleanor shook the box. “I hear they’re not only delicious, but extra nutritious!”
“I’ll stick to human food, thanks,” Stone said.
I yawned, feeling like I could fall asleep and not wake for hours. Of course, that was impossible the way the world was now. Deep sleep remained an illusion, much like our hope.
“Fuck yes!” Stone shouted, startling both Eleanor and me.
I turned. “What?”
He was still on the floor, but now lying on his stomach. He held one of the lighters in an ungloved hand. His other hand remained gloved. Then I noticed the flames burning in the fireplace. He’d finally gotten the logs to catch. The warmth was glorious. A few seconds after Stone’s exclamation, we were all hunched over the hearth, trying to get the feeling back in our limbs.
We sat like that for a while as the sky outside grew blacker and blacker. The wind kicked up during that time. It was like we were stuck in the middle of a tornado. I could see the snow hitting the window above the kitchen sink. Fat, heavy flakes. By the time this storm finished, I thought the house would be completely buried.
“I gotta go take a leak,” Stone said. He climbed up with the help of a nearby stool, grabbed his crutches, and left the kitchen.
Toilets didn’t work. I would say obviously, but when the blizzards first fell and the power went out, they still flushed for a day or two. The pipes eventually froze and the water shut off, I’m guessing, and then they wouldn’t flush. So we were reduced to doing our business outside when we could. If the sky was dark, then it was either hold it or use a bucket. Not exactly the most sanitary option, but it got the job done.
Since we weren’t planning on staying in this house, I assume Stone either peed in the toilet, sink, or shower, and then just left it there. Some might think that’s disrespectful, and perhaps it is, but that was how we had to do it. Urinating wasn’t really a problem. It was the other bodily function…which I don’t really want to get into. Just know that we made it work. When nature calls, you’re going to answer. Simple as that.
Eleanor had taken her jacket off and was sitting on it, propped up on one arm, her legs stretched out to one side. I smiled at her.
“What are you smiling about?” she asked.
I shook my head. “Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
I measured my words carefully before speaking. All my life, I rarely took chances, and the one time I did, when I ran back into that burning apartment building to try and save the boy, I failed. I’ve accepted that. I’ve come to terms with the fact it was better to try and fail than to not try at all. Not trying is safe. If you stand on the sidelines, never get in the game, you’ll never get hurt. But you’ll never score the winning touchdown or hit the go-ahead buzzer beater, either.
I was over that. I was ready to win, and prepared to get hurt.
So I answered Eleanor, and I said, “I was just thinking about how beautiful you are.”
Much to my surprise, the sky didn’t fall, I didn’t spontaneously combust, and Eleanor didn’t even slap me. I would say the world didn’t end, too, but that was still up for debate.
Eleanor’s cheeks flared with color. She looked away and toward the fire. From the side, I could tell she was smiling.
After a few moments of silence—slightly uncomfortable silence—I cleared my throat and said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that—”
Eleanor leaned forward before I finished. Next thing I knew, her lips were pressed against mine and we were kissing. It felt like I was floating for the entirety of that kiss. I have never experienced anything like it before.
We parted.
Her eyes widened. Her mouth hung open, her lips trembling. “Oh—oh God… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that—”
It was my turn to cut her off. “You can do that anytime you like. In fact, please do.”
I leaned forward and kissed her again.
She put her arms around my shoulders, and we fell to the floor as one. I explored the curves of her body with my hands, taking in the warmth and the smoothness of her skin, and in a matter of seconds things began spiraling out of control. I don’t know how far we would’ve gotten had we not been interrupted, but I’m guessing it would have been pretty far. The reason for this was simple. We had forgotten about everything in that moment—all the pain, the fear, the snow, the monsters, the cold, and even Stone, who could’ve walked in.
That was okay. That was worth it. Because all that mattered to me was her; and all that mattered to her was me.
In a dark world so full of death and despair, this was beautiful.
I am glad Stone didn’t see us, though. If he caught me making out with Ell, he’d never let me hear the end of it.
The interruption came in the form of a bang-bang-bang. The sound echoed loudly throughout the quiet house. Eleanor jumped, tightening her grip around my waist, which in turn brought her pelvis closer to mine. And that was enough to drive a man insane.
“What was that?” she gasped.
It took a moment for my caveman brain to come back to its normal, rational self. When it did, I stood up and grabbed the gun I’d left on the kitchen counter.
Another bang-bang-bang, followed closely by a bang-bang.
The noise reminded me of when Ell and Mikey had showed up at our lake house on the first night of the blizzards. It was a kind of hurried, frantic knocking by someone who wanted in.
“Stone?” I whisper-yelled. All the euphoric feelings that had flooded me during my kiss with Ell had vanished, replaced by cold fear.
Stone gave no answer. I was worried. I flicked my gaze to the left.
I put a hand on Ell’s arm and placed my body between her and the possible danger ahead of us.
Of course, with Ell being who she is…she slapped my hand out of the way and glared daggers at me. “Seriously?”
I offered an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
Eleanor wasn’t a damsel in distress; that was for damn sure.
When we first joined forces the night her father changed into a crazy murderer, she was shaken, sad, and a little out of it. Broken would be an apt description of her then, and that was to be expected. If she acted like that now, I wouldn’t have blamed her one bit. All that craziness was in the past. I don’t think anyone could ever truly get over something like that. But, somehow, Eleanor wasn’t that woman anymore. She had left that version of herself behind. She was a woman you didn’t want to fuck with.
Speaking of not fucking with her, Stone had the gun she’d brought on their journey to rescue me, but she wasn’t about to enter a battle without a weapon.
A knife block sat on the counter to our right. She grabbed the handle of a huge butcher’s knife. The blade reflected the orange light of the fire. It was easily as long as my forearm and sharper than anything I’d ever seen, except for maybe the fangs on the giant shadow-spider that chased us into Helga’s house. This was the kind of blade you’d see Michael Myers carving up babysitters with in the Halloween movies.
In hindsight, I don’t know how well it would’ve held up against any ghostly apparitions the wraiths set on us. I thought this even after I’d seen the shadow-rats skewered and crushed by Stone’s crutches. A gun, however, seemed to do the trick. I have this theory that the flash from the muzzle is what does the wraiths in.
It might not kill them…I mean, how can you kill something that’s already dead? That shouldn’t exist in the first place? You can’t, not really. But it definitely deterred them the same way the flashlight and the handmade flamethrowers did.
“Stone?” I whispered again.
This time, I heard something else, a familiar sound. The rubber stoppers on Stone’s crutches tapping the hardwood, coming toward us. He emerged from the hallway’s shadows wearing a look of dread. His eyes were almost as big as his face. He spoke in a soft voice.
“Guys, we didn’t check the basement…and I th
ink there’s something down there.”
5
Man’s Best Friend
I hadn’t thought of the place having a basement. Probably because the apartment I lived in back when the world was normal didn’t have one.
Stone had no qualms about me going first down the hallway. In fact, he gave me a little tap on the back of the leg with a crutch to spur me onward.
So there we were, the three of us, creeping toward the sound, which had changed from banging to a scratching. Ell had her giant knife, Stone and me had our guns.
The basement door was narrow and located by the bathroom, hard to notice. I stood about fifteen feet from it, watching as it rattled with the force of the hit.
“Open it,” Stone said.
“You open it,” I replied.
“I’m not the leader. You are, Grady!”
“Oh, now I’m the leader.” I was shaking my head when Eleanor pushed past both of us, grabbed the doorknob, and cracked the door open. After a deep breath, she went downstairs.
We each shuffled backwards, weapons raised, and all we saw for a moment was blackness. I can’t say exactly what I expected. Something sinister, probably. I just know I expected something.
The reason I didn’t see anything was because I wasn’t looking at the right place. It was Eleanor who noticed what was responsible for the banging.
She dropped her knife at her side. It hit the hardwood, clattered, and spun around. She knelt down, saying, “Aww, you poor thing.”
Then I saw it.
The cause of all that ruckus wasn’t a wraith or one of their ghostly projections. It wasn’t an insane person, either.
It was a dog.
I took off one of my sweaters and gave it to Ell to wrap the dog up in. Even in the low light, I could tell how badly it was shivering. With it in her arms, Eleanor rushed toward the kitchen. Stone and I followed her, Stone shaking his head.
“What?” I asked him.
“I can’t believe a little dog almost made me shit my pants.”
Whiteout (Book 2): The Dark Winter Page 6
