by Jeff Gunhus
With no time to stop or turn, Jack floored the accelerator. They hit a natural ridge right before the ten foot wide chasm and the Land Rover launched into the air. They hit the other side hard on the back right tire. The Land Rover tilted to the right, but the metal beast corrected itself and landed back on all four tires. The tread dug into the ground and they sped down the road, the fissures falling away behind them.
“Lauren? How is she?” Jack cried out.
“God, Jack. I’m losing her. Just get us to the hospital. Just get us there.”
Jack nodded and gripped the wheel, listening to Lauren whisper words of encouragement in their daughter’s ear. He pushed the car as fast as he could and still keep control on the dirt road. They turned onto the main road, the asphalt like smooth air after the turbulence they’d been through. He jammed the accelerator to the floor and headed for Midland Hospital. Regardless of what they had endured in the last few hours, and the impossible odds they had overcome, it was all for nothing if Sarah didn’t survive.
EIGHTY-EIGHT
Jack leaned forward and put both hands flat against the shower wall. He lowered his head until the hot jet of water hit the base of his neck. He reached up and kneaded the thick knots bunched across his shoulders. He cranked the heat up higher and braced himself for the scalding water. Steam filled the shower. He breathed in deep and savored the hot, moist air.
After fifteen minutes, he forced himself to get out of the shower and towel off. A quick look in the mirror showed the last five days had done little to heal the bruises that covered his body. He dragged a comb through his hair and plodded into the bedroom.
Lauren had laid a suit for him on the bed. Charcoal grey with a black silk tie. Appropriate. He sat next to it with the damp towel wrapped around his waist. The house was silent. Lauren must be outside, he thought. Or sitting in the living room with a cup of coffee, staring out of the window. She spent hours doing that. Even at night when there was nothing to see.
He didn’t want to put the suit on. Everything had finally started to fade and today promised only to make it real again. But Lauren had extracted his promise that he would go. So he grabbed the suit pants and got dressed.
When he walked down the stairs, Lauren was in her chair, coffee cup in hand. Buddy lay on the floor next to her, helping to keep vigil with his master, somehow in tune that something was wrong. His thick tail pounded against the wood floor when he saw Jack. Lauren looked up.
“You look nice,” she said. She was dressed in a grey dress, her hair pulled back conservatively.
“Thanks,” Jack said. He waited at the base of the stairs. The last few days had been strange for them. Neither of them knew what to say, how to comfort each other. Lauren had approached him when they when they had a few moments alone and apologized for not believing him at first. He told her not to worry, that he understood, that there was nothing to forgive. Still, things were different between them. He wondered if it would get better over time, if somehow they would learn to deal with it. To get past it.
“Are you ready for this?” he asked.
Lauren stood up and crossed over to her husband. She leaned forward, snuggled into his chest, and pulled his arms up around her. He held her tight and brushed her hair with his fingers. They stood there for a full minute, rocking softly. It would get better, Jack thought. They would get through this together and remake their lives. He leaned down and kissed her forehead.
“Ready?” he asked, fully aware that the meaning of the question had changed.
“Yes, I am,” she said.
EIGHTY-NINE
Half of Prescott City turned out for the funeral. Every pew of the Presbyterian church was filled and massive floral arrangements drenched the altar in color. The pastor consoled his congregation and lamented the thoughtlessness of life taken so prematurely. Heads nodded in agreement. Discrete hands wiped away tears.
After a song that Jack barely heard, the pastor invited him to speak. He had been told he would speak first, but he was still caught off guard, lost far away in his own thoughts. Lauren nudged him with her elbow to get his attention and he rose to walk to the podium next to the altar.
The church members rustled paper programs nervously as he made his way to the microphone. Men adjusted their legs. Women dug into their purses. But once Jack took his position, the church settled in a still hush.
Jack looked out over the congregation and gripped the podium with both hands. He turned to look at the coffin positioned in the center of the altar. Bouquets of blood-red roses covered the lid and spilled out in every direction.
He cleared his throat. Just as he feared, being here made everything rush back to him. Bits of memory flashed in his mind. The accident with Huckley. The visitation at his house. His first time in the cave. The creature locked in the stone structure, now buried forever. Seeing his little girl shot. Holding her bleeding body in his arms.
Nervous coughs from the church brought him back. He looked down to Lauren who sat holding Becky’s hand. She smiled bravely and nodded for him to go on. Lauren the brave. Lauren the strong. She was still there for him.
And beside her, still to Jack’s disbelief and wonder, sat his little Sarah, smiling so sweetly that tears jumped to his eyes. Nothing had prepared them for her miraculous recovery from the gunshot wound. Lauren still found herself trying to explain the rapid healing to colleagues, but Jack found himself wrestling with another questions.
If Sarah’s interaction with the Source had given her the ability to self-heal, how else had the experience changed her? How would those changes manifest?
But these were questions for another time. He turned his attention to the full church waiting for him to speak.
“Thank you for coming today.” He paused and looked at the woman next to his wife. Kristi Dahl sat with her youngest daughter on her lap and her oldest hanging on her arm. Jack nodded toward them. “Thank you Kristi for asking me to say something about Max. He was a good friend. A loving husband and a father who would give anything for his two little girls.” Jack fought back the emotion in his voice and eulogized his friend.
Afterward, sitting in the pew for the rest of the service, he realized that he alone fully knew what Max had been and what he had given out of love for his children. He wondered if Max’s last selfless act somehow made up for so many sins he committed in that dark cave. Jack looked up at the cross hanging in front of the church and believed for the first time in his life that someone else would be judging Max. Maybe there was someone like Melissa Gonzales who would be there ready to help him. Max didn’t deserve it, Jack knew that. But then again, neither had he.
Jack closed his eyes and prayed that Melissa Gonzales had finished her journey and was at peace. He said the same for his friend Max Dahl.
NINETY
The sun settled behind the far hills and turned the cemetery into rows of long shadows. Jack, Lauren and Becky stood together as the pallbearers lowered the coffin into the ground. During the short ceremony, Jack caught sight of Joseph Lonetree watching the proceedings from a distance. Once people headed back to their cars, he whispered to Lauren that he would catch up. Lonetree waited as Jack made his way up the small hill toward him.
“Thought you weren’t coming,” Jack said.
“Came to say goodbye. Knew you’d be here,” Lonetree said.
Jack studied the big man’s face. Unreadable as always. “So where are you going?”
“Not sure. Maybe take up my father’s work,” Lonetree said.
Jack smiled “Dig around in caves looking for bogeymen?”
“Pretty much. Why? Want to come along?”
Jack held up his hands in protest, “I’ll leave that to you and your buddy Sorenson.” They shared an easy laugh together.
Lonetree nodded toward the cars. “How’s your wife handling it?”
“It’s been hard on her. She’s a scientist and what we went through doesn’t fit into any of her medical categories. She’s already created
a hundred different explanations for things.”
Lonetree shrugged. “If it helps her.”
“We’ll work it out,” he said, realizing that he truly believed they would.
Lonetree nodded toward where Sarah and Max’s daughter Jesse ran around on the grass lawn.
“And how about Sarah?” Lonetree asked.
Jack smiled. “She’s doing great. Almost like nothing happened.” He looked down at the ground. “You think she’s going to be all right?”
“Huckley and that creature knew there was something special about her. I’m guessing you’re in for an interesting time. Same with Max’s daughter with the heart problem. He said he transferred the energy to her. Who knows what that will do.”
They stood quietly and watched the little girls running down to the cars. Night was coming on and the cold breeze rattled the few dry leaves still on the trees. Jack broke the silence. “Listen, we’re going to go get something to eat. Why don’t you come along?”
“Are you trying to bond with me, Jack?”
Jack laughed. “No, it’s just that I feel safer if I know where you are. Don’t like you slinking around in the shadows.”
Lonetree pursed his lips and looked down. “I don’t know.”
“Come on. You saved her life, for Gods sake. You might as well get a hug.”
Lonetree finally nodded. Jack smiled and jabbed him in the stomach. Lonetree doubled over. “Hey, watch the stitches bruiser.”
“Gee, and I thought SEALs were tough,” Jack said.
They walked down the hill together, slowed by their injuries and bruises, but sped along by the chance to put the past behind them.
At the car, Lauren opened the door for Lonetree and gave him a smile as he climbed into the back seat with the kids. She closed the door behind him as Jack walked by. She reached out, stopped him and pulled him into a hug. Jack held her tight.
“Let’s get started,” she said.
“You bet.”
He leaned in and kissed her on the lips.
Suddenly there was a loud knocking on the car window beside. They looked over and saw Becky and Sarah making funny faces at them.
Jack and Lauren both laughed.
Lauren climbed into the car as Jack walked around to the driver’s side. As he did, he couldn’t help but take one more look at Max’s newly dug grave and the mix of emotions swelled up in him once again. Max was a monster who killed others so he might live, but, in the end, this consuming selfishness proved no match for a father’s love for his child. Ironically, Jack found that final act of giving had brought Max closer to immortality than anything the Source could have given him.
Max had realized it too late, after nearly destroying that which he loved the most. Jack resolved he would not make the same mistake.
“Rest in peace, Max.”
Jack got into the car, fired up the engine and wound his way through the cemetery.
Inside the car, Lonetree felt Sarah suddenly shudder next to him. He looked over at her and saw a plume of breath come from her as if she were sitting in a freezing room. She looked out sharply over her shoulder at the rear window and Lonetree followed her line of sight.
There, on the hill above the gravesite, was a solitary figure dressed in a black trench coat, watching the car leave.
Lonetree watched the man in black until the car dropped down the hill and the man disappeared from view. He looked over at Sarah who stared up at him. He reached out and took her tiny hand in his.
She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder.
“How long are you planning on staying in the area, Joe?” Lauren asked from the front seat.
Lonetree looked down at Sarah leaning against him.
“I think I’ll stay around for a while. See if I still have any friends living in the area.”
Jack caught the edge in Lonetree’s voice. As he slowed the car to a stop at an intersection, Jack made eye contact with him in the rearview mirror
“Do you think that’s a possibility?” Jack asked.
Lonetree turned away, saying nothing.
Jack sat with the car idling at the stop sign. The seconds stretched out, but still the car remained motionless. Finally, Lauren reached out and turn took hold of his hand.
“We’re together,” she said. “Whatever happens, we can deal with it.”
Jack smiled and squeezed her hand. With another long look in the rearview mirror, Jack pulled out onto the highway and took his family home.
####
AUTHOR’S NOTE
Thank you for reading Night Chill. I hope you enjoyed the journey into the dark side of human behavior and inclination. While the supernatural elements of this story came from my over-caffeinated imagination, the abduction of children by deranged individuals is a real and terrifying issue. Fortunately, the world is also filled with good people willing to fight to protect the innocent. A special thank you to the law enforcement officials who tirelessly search for missing children in America.
This book is part of the independent publisher movement and your support is greatly appreciated. If you enjoyed this book, please help by sharing with your friends and writing a review. I appreciate you taking this journey with me. Thank you!
Jeff Gunhus
www.jeffgunhus.com
ALSO BY JEFF GUNHUS
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Jack Templar Monster Hunter
Jack Templar and the Monster Hunter Academy
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Wake Up Call
Choose The Right Career
The Little Book Of Secrets
Reaching Your Reluctant Reader
Copyright
Kindle Edition, License Notes
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2013 by Jeff Gunhus.
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Seven Guns Press. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
Cover design by Eric Gunhus
Formatting by RikHall.com
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Gunhus, Jeff
Night Chill / Jeff Gunhus
ISBN-13: 978-1-4486-5235-8
ISBN-10: 1-4486-5235-9
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