Winter Wake

by Rick Hautala

“I didn’t do anything wrong! I didn’t do anything wrong!” he kept mumbling to himself.

  And then he saw something ahead of him — the snow-covered lump of his car.

  With one frantic glance over his shoulder, he saw something else — a mind-numbing sight that, like Abby, was impossible ... impossible but there. Closing the gap between them, leaping and burrowing over and through the snow, came an onrushing tide of rats, squeaking and chittering, lusting to taste his heated lifeblood.

  In a sudden surge of speed, John reached the edge of the field and scrambled over the humped plow ridge. Every square inch of his exposed skin was numbed, and the dim thought chilled him that, even if he made it home, it wouldn’t matter.

  Abby would have gotten them already.

  Julia and Bri would be dead.

  And Abby would be waiting for him!

  He slammed into the side of the car, almost knocking the wind out of himself. Peeling off a glove, he jammed his hand into his coat pocket, suddenly afraid that he had lost the keys back in the barn. He tried not to imagine turning around and cringing back against the car, trying to scream but unable to as the seething black mass of rats swarmed over him, their teeth and claws tearing the last shreds of life from him. Inside the middle of the mass of rodents, an image of Abby’s face appeared as she was twenty years ago.Her face was horribly pale … her neck strangled … her bloated tongue sticking out between her teeth … dried blood dribbling down to the point of her chin.

  “YOU DID THIS TO ME!”

  Abby’s face slowly dissolved into his own, and he screamed a silent death knell as imagined being dragged to the ground and covered by rats and drifting snow.

  But then the cold shock of what was in his pocket ripped him back to reality.

  The car keys! … I’ve got them!

  His hand trembled out of control as he unlocked the car door, swung it open, and flopped onto the front seat. The sudden glare of the dome light stung his eyes, and he almost screamed when he caught a glimpse of his face in the rearview mirror. It looked as pale and rotted as Abby’s.

  He slammed the car door shut, but something stopped it from closing tightly. Down by his feet, he heard a loud squawk. When he opened the door a crack, enough to turn the dome light back on, he saw that the door had crushed the skull of one rat that had scrambled up into the car.

  “Almost, you bastard!” John hissed as he kicked the dead rat out onto the snow.

  He had time to swing the door out and yank it shut before the rest of the rats slammed into it. In a sudden and furious barrage, the rats hurled themselves against the car, their claws scraping the car’s side and roof like a sudden blast of hail.

  “Not tonight, you bastards!” John shouted with maniacal glee.

  He stuck the key into the ignition, praying silently that the car would start.

  The engine cranked loudly, almost died, and then caught. John pushed the accelerator down hard and let the engine roar.

  The car was buffeted by strong gusts of wind. From every side came the heavy thumping sounds of rats bouncing off the metal and glass. Pumping the gas pedal, John let the engine warm up. He didn’t want to kill it now. Then, snapping on the headlights, he popped the shift into gear. The windshield was covered with heavy, black bodies, but these were whisked aside when he turned on the windshield wipers. With tires spinning wildly in the deep snow, the car shifting from side to side, John turned the car around and drove as fast as he dared back to the house. The only thing on his mind was, even if he ended up dying from these rat bites, he had to warn Julia and Bri.

  II

  Julia was crazy with worry after John left. She tried — unsuccessfully — to hide it from Bri, and the two of them, not knowing what else to do, sat at the kitchen table, their attention fastened on the telephone. An hour — which felt more like twenty hours — later, the harsh ringing of the phone made them both jump and shriek with surprise. Trembling, dreading what this call would be, Julia grabbed the phone.

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly.

  “Julia? Hey, it’s Randy,” the voice on the phone said. “Did I call at a bad time?”

  “No — I ...” But that was all she could say.

  “Well, uh, look — I don’t know if John mentioned this to you,” Randy went on, “but he and I had lunch today and I was — uh, I’d like to talk to him if he ain’t busy.”

  Julia glanced at Bri, her eyes signaling her helplessness.

  “Julia?” Randy said. “Can I talk to John?”

  “He ... umm, he’s not home,” Julia said when she was unable to come up with a convincing lie.

  “He went out? On a night like this?” Randy said. “Where the hell’d he go?”

  “I don’t know,” Julia replied as a flood of tears spilled from her eyes. “He got a phone call and said it was a wrong number, but then he left.”

  “He didn’t say who the call was from?” Randy asked.

  Biting her lower lip, Julia shook her head.

  “No — he said it was someone asking for ... I think he said ‘Sally.’”

  “Sally … Sally Curry?” Randy said.

  “That’s the name.” Julia swiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Why? What do you know about it?”

  There was a long pause at Randy’s end of the line. Then his voice, low and tentative, said, “I don’t know how much — if anything — you know about what’s going on, but today at lunch, I mentioned Sally Curry to John.”

  “Who is she?” Julia shouted, filled with a sudden flash of panic. “What the hell is going on?”

  “Sally Curry’s the sister of John’s old girlfriend, Abby,” Randy said softly. “But when we were talking about her, I was gonna tell John I heard that Sally had died. Bone cancer, I think.”

  “Why would someone call here asking for her?”

  The queasiness in her stomach was worse, and she feared she would throw up if she didn’t find out what the hell was going on.

  “I have no idea,” Randy said, keeping his voice mild and controlled. “Look, Julia, are you all right? If you want, I can come over until John gets home.”

  Julia’s eyes locked onto Bri’s. As much as she wanted to push aside the swelling tide of panic, she couldn’t. In the core of her soul, she knew that something was desperately wrong with John … and maybe them.

  “That’s not necessary,” Julia said after a long pause. “It’s not safe to be out in a storm like this, and, anyway” — she forced a lilt into her voice that she didn’t feel —”I’m sure John will be home soon.”

  “You’re sure?” Randy said. “I don’t want you worrying yourself sick.”

  “I’m sure,” Julia replied.

  “Call me as soon as he gets home, ‘kay?”

  “I promise,” Julia said. “‘Bye-bye.”

  Julia carefully replaced the phone on the hook and took a deep, dry breath. She didn’t want to turn around, fearful of letting Bri see her so shattered, so uncertain.

  “Who was that?” Bri asked, her voice trembling with suppressed fear. “Is Dad all right? He didn’t have an accident, did he?”

  Julia was about to answer her, but she and Bri both screamed when John suddenly burst through the kitchen door. At first, neither of them recognized this horrible, bloodied person. Even after he called out their names, his bleeding face and hands and his shredded coat were unrecognizable. His eyes … the wild, crazy look in his eyes sent spikes of terror through both of them.

  “She’s back! ... Abby’s back!” John wailed, his throat so raw he didn’t sound like himself. “She isn’t dead! Not anymore!”

  Grabbing Julia by both arms, he shook her wildly, staring crazily at her.

  He’s out of his mind! Julia thought, torn between pity for him and fear for her own and Bri’s safety. He’s been drinking, and he’s out of his mind.

  “I saw her! She was at the barn! Haskins’ barn!” John was panting heavily, his face close to hers. His breath washed over her, and she was sur
prised that she didn’t smell alcohol.

  “What are you talking about? Calm down” Julia said, trying to sound rational, but looking at him unnerved her. She knew Bri was watching them in stark, silent terror. After glancing over her shoulder at her daughter — and seeing her own shock and horror mirrored in her face — Julia turned to John. Her mind frantically searched for something she could do. It was pitch black outside … in the middle of a blizzard … and they were alone in the house with a madman.

  “We’ve got to get out of here! Now!” John shouted. “We’ve got to get off the island! That’s it. She can’t leave the island! She couldn’t! Otherwise, she would have done something to me before now! She must be trapped here. Come on! Get your coats! We’ve got to leave!”

  “We aren’t going anywhere except to a hospital,” Julia said. “Look at these cuts. Bri, call the —”

  “You don’t understand!” John shouted. “I’ve seen her, and she’s coming here!”

  “Who? Who’s coming?”

  “Abby ... Abby Snow!”

  “Your girlfriend from high school?” Julia shook her head, trying to push aside her panic and confusion, and think rationally. “You or Randy said she didn’t live here anymore. I was just talking to Randy on the phone, and he said something about Abby’s sister —”

  “It’s not her sister!” John shouted, flecks of foam flying from his mouth. “It’s her! Abby!”

  “But you said Abby was —”

  “She is dead!” John yelled, his bloodshot eyes bulging from his head. “She killed herself! She hanged herself in the barn, and when I found her, I — I buried her. But now she’s come back!”

  “Jesus Christ, John. Get a grip,” Julia said. “Do you hear what you’re saying?” There was a trace of calmness in her voice, but she didn’t feel it. All she could think was, John is crazy — dangerously crazy — and he could turn whatever the hell he’s thinking on us.

  Hurt us.

  Maybe even kill us.

  “I saw her ... in Haskins’ barn! You’ve got to believe me!”

  With that, he ran to the front hall closet, grabbed Julia’s and Bri’s winter coats, and rushed back into the kitchen.

  “Put these on!”

  All this time, Bri had been standing by the kitchen table, both hands covering her mouth so she wouldn’t scream. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing, and she was too frightened to say or do anything.

  “Take it!” John shouted at her, shoving her coat into her hands. “Will you do what you’re told, for Christ’s sake? She’s coming!”

  Thinking the only way they would be safe was to do what he said, Julia cast a quick glance at Bri and nodded, signaling for her to put on her coat.

  “Get your hats and gloves, too,” John commanded as he darted over to the kitchen window and looked out at the storm. Snow was streaking past the streetlight, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Abby was out there and coming steadily closer.

  “John,” Julia said mildly. “You’re cut up pretty bad. You’re hurt. Sit down, and let me take a look at those wounds? How did this happen?”

  As she spoke, she pulled on her coat and tucked her hair up under her woolen hat.

  “We don’t have time,” John shouted at her. “She’s gonna be here any —”

  “Audrey?” Bri said suddenly, turning around as a dark figure filled the living room doorway. “What are you …?”

  The question was barely out of her mouth when the figure glided into the glaring light of the kitchen. Bri saw Audrey’s face clearly. It was a sickly gray that matched the color of her heavy wool sweater. Her long, dark hair was tangled and knotted, caked with snow and ice around her shoulders. But it was the side of her face that sent blinding terror singing along Bri’s nerves. Long strips of skin hung in loose flaps from her cheek, exposing pale bone beneath. Bri’s hands covering her mouth muffled the piercing scream she let out.

  “Oh, Christ!” John shouted. Standing by the kitchen sink, his face turned a sickly white.

  Julia looked at the horror facing them. She immediately recognized the face and hair. This was the same person she had seen swimming alongside Randy’s boat the day they had gone lobstering.

  I didn’t imagine it!

  “You didn’t honestly think you could get away from me, did you?” Abby said in low, even tones. Her voice was curiously muffled and, as she spoke, clumps of dirt and mold rained onto the linoleum floor.

  Abby looked from John to Bri to Julia, her rounded yellow eyes widening as her dead lips twisted into a horrible grin.

  “Did you think that?” she said, her voice rising gleefully.

  Slowly, she reached out. Her arms were pale and thin; her fingernails yellowed and cracked and crusted with dirt.

  “But you realize, I hope, all of you have to die! All four of you!”

  Instinctively, Julia’s hands went down to her stomach in a protective gesture.

  “No!” Julia said, thinking no matter who or what this horrible vision was, she would do anything and everything to protect her unborn child.

  “Oh, yes ... You will all die,” Abby said, followed by a mocking laugh. “It has to be that way!”

  The family stood frozen in place, looking unbelievingly as Abby shifted slowly toward John. When she waved her hands, her fingernails made tiny clicking sounds that sounded like insects as she raised her hands level to his throat.

  Suddenly Bri became aware of a low, trembling sound … barely audible below the howling of the wind whipping around the house. It sounded like … organ music.

  “The church wood,” she whispered so softly no one could hear her.

  But Abby —

  Audrey!

  — turned and looked at her over her shoulder and laughed.

  John started backing away as Abby turned to him again and continued moving foward. As she got closer, a drafty chill washed over him. The cold reached into his muscles, freezing muscles and nerves.

  “Starting with you,” Abby said, glaring balefully at John, her shuffling steps bringing her closer.

  Neither Bri nor Julia could move. They watched in absolute terror as the strains of organ music rose.

  “Catch!” John shouted. “Get the hell out of here!”

  He spun around and lobbed the car keys to Julia, who surprised herself when she caught them on reflex.

  Abby tilted her head back, exposing the rotten gray flesh of her neck, and let out a wild, warbling laugh.

  “As if that will do you any good! … Killer! … Murderer!”

  With a sudden burst of speed, John moved around the kitchen table and then headed into the living room. Abby’s face contorted into a wild expression of anger and hatred as she wheeled around and went after him. In the flurry of activity, Julia grabbed Bri by the arm and shook her.

  “Go on! Get into the car!” she yelled, giving her such a rough push toward the door it almost knocked her down.

  Numbed by what she had seen, Bri stumbled across the kitchen floor, swung the door open wide, and stepped out into the snow. A frigid blast of air and snow swept into the kitchen, but the whistling sound of the wind and the pealing organ music didn’t mask the sounds coming from the living room. Julia ran to the living room doorway and looked on in stunned horror.

  John was slowly backing away from Abby as she steadily, unrelentingly approached him. Her arms waved in wild circles over her head, and everything in the living room — all the furniture and rugs and pictures on the walls — were spinning and tumbling around as if caught in a tornado. The organ music throbbed and pulsated with a weird Doppler effect, making Julia feel dizzy.

  Suddenly there was an ear-shattering crash as something — Julia couldn’t see what — careened through the picture window. Snow came howling into the room like a leaping wolf and started sweeping around the raging circle of flying furniture.

  “Get the hell out of here!” John shouted when he saw Julia in the doorway.

  She could barely hear his voice a
bove the insane roaring in the living room. He held his arms up protectively and ducked as a footstool flew past his head,

  Abby glanced over her shoulder at Julia and smiled. Pointing at her, she shouted, “You’re next!”

  With that, Abby thrush her hands forward as if against great resistance. The motion made Julia think she was pantomiming trying to close — or open — an unyielding door. The organ music shot up the scale until it was an irritating, high-pitched buzz. John was yanked back, his arms and legs flopping in the air as though some unseen person had grabbed him by the coat collar and tugged him. He flipped over, and with his legs aimed up at the ceiling, he flew through the gaping hole in the picture window.

  For an instant, Julia thought he had been sucked outside, but then she saw that he hadn’t made it. His legs had snagged onto the fang-like edges of broken glass. With a horrified scream, she watched as his full weight came down on the inverted spikes of glass that stuck like spears through his stomach.

  “No!” Julia screamed, only distantly aware that it was her own voice.

  Through the spiral of airborne furniture and snow, she saw John’s lifeless body impaled on the daggers of glass. There was a loud crunching sound as slivers of glass broke beneath his weight. Blood as black as India ink gushed from underneath him and ran down the glass and stained the living room carpet.

  As Abby lowered her hands, the furniture crashed to the floor in a wild jumble. Turning to Julia, a wild gleam shined in her eyes, but there was also a trace of …

  What?

  Exhaustion, Julia thought.

  That took a lot of her strength.

  Abby’s arms sagged, and her head drooped.

  She’s exhausted,, Julia thought. She’s losing her power!

  “You’ll … be ... next,” Abby rasped, her voice distant and hollow as she raised her hand and pointed a bony finger at Julia. “You and that bastard child you’re carrying!”

  Darkness enveloped Abby, sweeping over her like a dark wing.

  Then, in an instant, she was gone.

  For a stunned moment, Julia stood there staring in complete shock at the devastation in the living room. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the motionless body of her husband, hanging halfway out through the hole in the window. Already, his body was covered with drifting snow. One of his legs dangling into the living room was still twitching. His boot made a tap-tap sound on the floor like a distant drum. By the dim light coming from the kitchen, she could see large red splotches soaking into the snow.