Winter Wake

by Rick Hautala

  John’s dead, she thought. Whatever else happened, that is real!

  “No ... no,” she said in a deep-throated wail as her mind tried to absorb what she had witnessed. She started backing away, knowing there was nothing she could do. John was dead, and if Abby — whatever in the name of Christ she was — had the power to return, Julia knew she would make good her threat to kill them all.

  She suddenly became aware that she had been clutching the keys John had thrown to her. One sharp edge had cut into the heel of her hand, and a thin stream of blood was dripping onto the floor. Still feeling stunned, numb with disbelief that any of this could be happening, she raised her hand and looked at the keys, only distantly aware of what they were and what they might mean.

  Suddenly, it hit her.

  Uttering a low whimper, she ran from the living room, through the kitchen, and out to the car. Her hands fumbled to open the door on the driver’s side. Then she dropped onto the car seat.

  “What … what happened?” Bri asked, her eyes sparkling circles of fear. Her voice hit Julia’s ears with a distant, metallic rattle.

  “Your father’s —”

  She gulped a breath of air and swallowed, wincing at the pain in her throat.

  “He’s dead.”

  All around the car, wind and snow spun. Even in the short time since John had gotten home —

  When was that? Julia wondered vacantly. A lifetime ago …

  — snow had covered the windshield, freezing to ice where the windshield was still warm and had melted it. Julia had a curious sense of being disembodied as she slipped the key into the ignition and started the car. The windshield wipers scraped loudly over the glass as they pushed aside the accumulated snow. Julia snapped on the headlights but could see nothing but a wall of falling snow in front of her.

  “You’ll be next.”

  The voice echoed in her mind like words shouted into a canyon.

  “You and that bastard child you’re carrying.”

  Shaking her head and gritting her teeth, Julia looked at her daughter, aware that she was crying and trembling. Low, tortured moans vibrated above the sounds of the storm. As she looked at Bri, though, something else clicked in Julia’s mind — the only thing, in this explosion of insanity, that made any sense.

  “Come on,” Julia said as she gunned the engine. “We’ve got to get off this island!”

  “Who — what was that?” Bri looked at her mother as tears streamed down her face. “I ... I thought she was my friend … Audrey! What the hell is she?”

  She crumpled forward, covering her face with both hands and cried out her misery and confusion.

  “I haven’t got the faintest goddamned idea,” Julia said as she slipped the car into reverse and started backing slowly out of the driveway. The wheels spun in the deep snow, and the tail end of the car swinging back and forth as Julia tugged to keep moving. She got to what had to be the road — with snow this deep, there was no telling — and shifted into drive. Slowly, carefully, she eased down on the accelerator, thinking the last thing she wanted now was to have an accident.

  “How could she do that?” Bri asked, her voice muffled by her hands over her face. “How could she appear like that and ... and make those things happen?”

  She couldn’t bring herself to say, And how could she kill Daddy?

  Julia was chewing her lower lip as she concentrated on her driving.

  Nothing she had seen in the house made any sense, but it was real — it had happened. And now, whatever may have happened in the house didn’t matter. They had to get to safety. If John was right, they would be safe if they got off the island. They had to try. Normally, that wouldn’t have been much of a problem, but with two miles of snow-covered road that already reached above the car’s wheel wells and whiteout conditions, the bridge to the mainland may as well have been a hundred miles away.

  The headlights made two solid cones of yellow light as they pushed against the onrushing snow. The snow driving straight at them created the weird illusion that they were moving fast even when the speedometer registered less than ten miles per hour. No matter what speed Julia drove, the wipers couldn’t keep the windshield clear for more than a second or two. She drove hunched over the steering wheel, playing it easily back and forth as she used the streetlights — nothing more than hazy blue globes — to keep on the road.

  If only a town snowplow would go by, she thought; but if one did, and if she managed to stop it and talk to the driver, what would she tell him?

  My husband’s dead …and we have to get off the island … The ghost of a dead girl is trying to kill my daughter …and me …and my unborn child … My husband’s at the house … dead!

  Julia hissed nervously under her breath, trying to rationalize the night’s events, but absolutely nothing made sense.

  For a panicked instant, she thought she had missed a turn and was driving along Shore Road, the long way around. But then she passed Pottle’s store and realized they had driven a little more than half mile from their house. All around the car, all she could see were white streaks of wind-whipped snow against a solid black night. Below the steady rumble of the car’s engine, the only sound was the howling wind blowing in off the ocean and bulldozing into the car with hammer-like gusts.

  Suddenly something shifted in the snow ahead of her.

  Julia’s foot went to the brake, but she caught herself before she pressed down too hard and sent the car into a spin. With a few quick taps, she pumped the brakes to slow down and then screamed when a face surrounded by wind-torn black hair shot out of the night at her.

  “Jesus!” Julia shouted, her hands clutching the steering wheel so hard the palms of her hands ached.

  Abby flew out of the storm, straight at the car, her mouth open wide and her eyes glowing wickedly.

  Julia flinched back and prepared for the heavy thud of the body against the car, but before the silently screaming face, underlit by the headlights, zipped up over the car roof and then was gone.

  Bri cowered on the car seat, her knees drawn up in front of her. Without a word, Julia pressed down on the gas pedal harder.

  “You’ll be next! … You and that bastard child you’re carrying!”

  The words rang in her memory as clearly as if the figure flying over the car had screamed them in passing. The wind whistled shrilly, like voices joining in chorus.

  Gritting her teeth, Julia tried to steady her nerves and hold the road. Her last and only hope was that John had been right … that this thing — whatever it was — wouldn’t be able to cross the water and follow them to the mainland.

  Maybe Abby was trapped on the island.

  How can any of this be happening?

  The road unwound slowly as the car, enveloped by blinding snow, swerved and slewed its way down the road. The only reprieve was when they got around to the landward side of the island. Visibility improved slightly, now that the wind was coming at them from behind. It was impossible for Julia to know exactly where they were, and her fear now became, What if I miss the turn for the bridge? … What if I drive past it?

  Aware that Bri was still cringing on the seat beside her, crying, Julia reached out to comfort her. Bri flinched at her mother’s touch and screamed.

  “You’ve got to pull yourself together,” Julia said sharply. “Wipe your eyes and keep looking ahead. I need all the help I can get if we’re going to get out of this alive. Tell me when you can see the bridge.”

  Sniffing back her tears, Bri leaned forward and peered into the dark night ahead. Every streetlight they passed had a watery halo around it that broke into dazzling light fragments. She kept wiping her eyes with the back of her glove, watching the lights dissolve into spears of fading color.

  Pointing off to the left, she suddenly shouted, “There it — No! Maybe not.”

  “Jesus, Bri! Don’t shout,” Julia said as she jerked the steering wheel to the left, then quickly corrected herself. Her hands were throbbing with pain from gripp
ing the steering wheel. A low, steady crunch-crunch sound filled her head, and she was vaguely aware that she was grinding her teeth from side to side. Ice thickened on the windshield, and when the wipers tried to whisk it away, they smeared it into wide, arced streaks.

  “We’d better get to that bridge pretty damned fast,” Julia whispered under her breath. “‘Cause if we don’t ...”

  Then, up ahead — she and Bri saw it at the same instant. The snow-filled turn onto the bridge, barely illuminated by the streetlight. They had almost driven past it, but Julia hit the brakes hard …harder than she wanted to … to avoid missing it entirely. She played the steering wheel back and forth to compensate, but the wheels didn’t have any grip on the snow-packed road. Before she could stop it, they were spinning out of control, heading for the edge of the road.

  “Hold on,” Julia said, fighting to keep her voice calm.

  The tail end of the car started swinging around in a slow, stomach-spinning glide. Slush splattered the underside of the car, and in the glow of the dashboard lights, she saw the stark fright on Bri’s face.

  “We’ll be all right … we’ll be all —”

  But that was all she could say.

  Suddenly Abby was there. Her arms in front of her like a diver, she swept out of the darkness surrounding the bridge and slammed into the windshield. In an ear-shattering explosion of glass, she burst through into the front seat. Julia tried to scream as Abby’s frigid hands closed around her throat and choked her.

  As the car shot off the road and down toward the frozen bay, the only thing Julia was aware of was the utter blackness … infinitely darker than the surrounding night that closed over her like a tidal wave. And then there came a long, trailing scream that could have been Bri’s —

  — or my own.

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Across the Bay

  I

  “ ... don’t die! ... Please … don’t die! ...”

  The words came to her as though someone —

  Who? ... How can I see who it is in this pitch-dark?

  — was speaking to her from the end of a long tunnel.

  She sensed a rough rocking motion and thought crazily that she was on a boat at sea. She expected at any moment to feel icy waves splash over her face.

  Maybe Randy Chadwick’s lobster boat, she thought. But how can I tell where I am if I can’t see?

  “Come on, Mom! … Wake up! Say something! … Please, don’t die! …”

  “… I’m …”

  That single word seemed to originate at the bottoms of her feet and rip through her body to her mouth like a chainsaw blade, tearing and burning her flesh as it went. She was distantly aware that trying to speak caused intense pain, but with that came the realization — If I can feel pain … I’m alive ... I’m not dead .

  “Come on, Mom!”

  In a tiny corner of her mind, she finally recognized Bri’s voice, calling her back from the night-stained edge of … what?

  She saw herself as nothing more than a feather being sucked into a whirling, black vortex.

  Although the movement sent spikes of pain racing through every cell of her body, she managed to shake her head from side to side. Something soft and cold yielded beneath her head when she rolled I from side to side.

  What is that? she wondered. Is that snow ... or the crushed pulp of my skull?

  She opened her eyes, but at first could see nothing.

  She might as well have left her eyes shut.

  Maybe she had.

  She was surrounded by darkness, and then the darkness shifted with a bluish, grainy look … like an old-fashioned photograph.

  After a few more seconds, she realized that she was looking up at snow blowing past a streetlight overhead. With that realization came the sudden awareness of being cold ... freezing cold.

  “Mom? … Mom!” Bri shouted.

  Julia forced her eyes to focus, and finally she could make out a dark shape leaning over her.

  It’s Bri … It has to be Bri!

  Her daughter’s eyes glowed unnaturally bright — twin spots of glistening blue that gushed tears. For a moment, Bri forgot all about the raw wind tearing at her face or the horror she had felt when the car spun out of control and rolled down the hill toward the bay and that horrible thing that looked like Audrey —

  But couldn’t be!

  — careened through the windshield and wrapped its hands around her mother’s throat. A stomach-dropping emptiness filled her when she recalled her mother’s words:

  “Your father’s dead!”

  And now, if my mother dies, too …

  As she slowly came around, Julia frantically thought, It didn’t happen! … None of it happened … It was all a dream!

  But her mind cleared, and she became aware that she was lying on her back in several feet of snow. Something had happened … something bad.

  She wondered if, when her car skidded off the road, in the instant before blacking out she had imagined everything that had happened back at the house.

  Or had it … could it really have happened?

  John wasn’t dead … and that thing Bri called Audrey ... it couldn’t possibly have been real …

  “What the … What happened?” Julia said, struggling to shift up onto her elbows. The snowy night came more clearly into focus, and she shivered wildly.

  “You skidded off the road,” Bri said tightly. “You don’t remember?”

  With a sudden sickening rush, Julia’s mind replayed the last few seconds before the crash. She saw the face of that girl … that horrible skeleton face, loom out of the darkness at her over me hood of the car. She clearly remembered hearing the windshield exploding inward, the glass sparkling with diamond-like brilliance. She saw those bony hands reach out for her … and feel them wrap around her neck … and squeeze.

  Involuntarily, she reached to her throat where the flesh felt like it had been seared by red-hot irons. Even through her gloves, the skin felt hot and raw.

  “Is … she … still here?” Julia asked.

  Forgetting the pain in her legs and back, she lurched to her feet, brushing the snow off herself. Grabbing Bri by the arm, Julia started to pull her after her and shouted, “Come on! We have to get out of here! We have to get off the island!”

  The streetlight was at the beginning of the bridge — their escape route.

  The family car had plowed over the embankment and down into the smooth, deep snow beside the frozen bay. The car had rolled to one side and was tipped forward, its tail-end aimed straight up into the air. The taillights glowed a baleful red, staining the snow like blood.

  “How did you — ?” Julia started to say, but Bri interrupted her.

  “The car was going real slow when we went off the road. The deep snow slowed it down. I jumped out and, once it stopped, came down to get you out. Good thing it stopped, too, ‘cause we were a couple of feet away from going into the water.”

  “What about … her?” Julia said, still rubbing the hot ring around her throat. She found it difficult to swallow, and breathing the freezing air was painful.

  Bri shrugged.

  “She wasn’t there when I got to the car,” she said. “I don’t know where she went … or if she was even there.”

  “Jesus Christ!” Julia muttered. “She’s still around somewhere … Come on. Let’s get the hell across that bridge!”

  Struggling through snow that was well over her knees, she started climbing up the embankment with Bri at her side. The grade was steep, and they kept slipping back down almost as much as they climbed, but eventually Julia got a grip on one of the railings and pulled Bri up after her. As soon as they were out of the shelter of the bridge embankment, the full force of the storm slammed into them and almost blew them back down.

  “Hold on to my hand so we don’t get separated,” Julia said.

  She had to shout to be heard above the roar of the wind. Snow, like tiny shotgun pellets, stung as it whipped into her face. She snugg
led deep into the collar of her coat, and Bri’s reply was lost in the sound of snow splattering against her coat.

  It was obvious the town plows hadn’t been by for some time. The road across the bridge wasn’t any clearer than the road they’d been on. But the bridge would take them across water — to safety.

  As they struggled down the road, Julia became aware of a pain deep inside her gut. At first she gave it, like the other pains, little credence; but she suddenly realized that this pain was different.

  This one was …

  The baby!

  Oh, God — please, no!

  Don’t let me lose my baby, too!

  Slowing her pace, she led the way across the bridge, tugging Bri’s hand. Above them, the storm wailed as it vibrated the bridge’s suspension cables. The line of lights along the bridge receded in the snow until they disappeared into blue puffs of lights. The wind off the ocean was razor sharp. It sliced into their backs, pushing them roughly forward.

  At first, Julia didn’t care if they stayed on the snow-blanketed pedestrian sidewalk or not. If a car or truck, maybe a town snowplow, came along, they could flag it down. But then she realized that a driver might not see them until it was too late, so they held close to the side of the bridge, using the outside rail as a guide through the blinding snow.

  Although it was difficult to see it overhead, they passed by one of the two support towers. The blinking red lights at the top were lost to sight in the storm, but this told Julia they were a little more than halfway across the bridge. It felt as if they had already walked miles. Wet snow dragged at their legs. The wind, pushing at their backs like a schoolyard bully, threatened to knock them down with every other step. Through the curtain of falling snow, Julia couldn’t see the black hump of the mainland yet, but knowing it — and safety — were up ahead gave her strength and courage.