Werewolf Suspense (Book 1): Outage

by Piperbrook, T. W.

  "Rob?" she hissed.

  The quiet was unnerving, and it made her feel as if she should be quiet, too.

  No answer. The wind churned; the trees creaked and swayed. She located her cellphone and tapped the button on the side. Her fingers were stiff and frozen, and she wiggled them to restore the circulation. She glanced at the phone. As she waited for it to spring to life, she had the sudden premonition that the battery would be dead, that the phone would have no service.

  The phone lit up without issue.

  She stared at the screen. 12:21 a.m. It was earlier than she'd thought. That meant it would be dark for six more hours.

  By that time, the house would be an igloo.

  She brought up the Internet on the phone and attempted to find the number for the electric company. The webpage was loading, but slowly.

  "Rob!" she hissed again.

  She set the phone on the nightstand and crawled into bed. Then she took hold of Rob's T-shirt and gave him a shake.

  "Wake up, honey," she whispered. "The power's out and it's snowing."

  The shadowed figure rolled onto his back but didn't speak. She waited a few seconds before shaking him again. By the glow of the window, she could make out his eyes. It looked like they were open.

  "You awake?"

  Rob blinked, but didn't answer.

  Outside, the wind gusted. A shiver ran the length of her body, and she clutched her hands to her chest. Why wasn't he answering? Was her husband messing with her? He'd been known to play pranks before, but she doubted that was the case now. Not tonight. Not at this hour.

  "I'm serious, Rob. Wake up. I'm scared."

  She shook him again. Nothing. She reached back and grabbed the phone, then shined it on his face.

  This time Rob's voice broke through the silence.

  "What the heck, Abs!" he said, his throat cracked and hoarse.

  Abby sighed with relief.

  In the light of the cellphone, she could make out her husband's wrinkled brow, his bearded face. He wiped his eyes and stared at her, confused.

  "What time is it?"

  "Just after twelve. The power's out."

  Rob blew on his hands.

  "Why's it so cold in here?" he asked.

  "The furnace is down. It's a freaking blizzard outside."

  She watched as her husband processed the information. Normally Rob was quick on the uptake, but given that he'd just woken up, she'd cut him some slack. After a few seconds, he nodded.

  "Dammit. And we just went grocery shopping." He rolled his eyes.

  "I'm going to call the power company and report it."

  "Good idea. How long have you been awake?"

  "Just a few minutes. The neighbors are probably still sleeping. I'm not sure if anyone's called it in yet."

  "OK."

  With her husband awake, Abby felt her fear subside. She returned her attention to the phone. The Internet was still loading, and she tapped the screen to refresh it. Rob sat up next to her on the bed.

  "I'm gonna hit the bathroom," he said.

  "OK. I'll wait for the number to come up."

  "Do you want to use the home phone?"

  "No, it's fine. I'll call from here."

  "OK. We'll go back to sleep afterward."

  Yeah, right, she thought. She wouldn't be able to sleep. Not through this.

  The bedsprings creaked as Rob dismounted the other side. She heard the pad of his footsteps on the carpet, then the slap of feet on the hardwood as he reached the hall. The house was a raised ranch, and the only bathroom was upstairs. She listened as he clicked the door closed. Although they'd been married a year, Rob still liked his privacy. She shook her head and smiled.

  She glanced back at the phone. The webpage still hadn't loaded, and she was growing impatient. Perhaps she'd use the home phone as Rob had suggested, even if it meant walking through the cold house to get it. She could get the number from the directory. She felt a sudden draft from the window, and her bare legs prickled.

  I should put on long pants.

  She slid off the bed and made her way to the dresser. The bureau was stationed right next to the window. She used the light from her iPhone to illuminate the second drawer, then opened it and picked out a pair of gray sweatpants and a sweatshirt.

  After changing into them, she sidled back to the window. From the other room, she could hear Rob finishing up in the bathroom. It sounded like he was washing his hands.

  At least the water works.

  Even so, they wouldn't have hot water for long. Not with an electric water heater.

  She cracked the shade and peered back outside.

  The snow was coming down furiously. The flakes were as big as any she had ever seen, and Abby's mouth dropped at the sight of them. In the driveway, the couple's Honda Civic looked like a cloud with antennas and tires, and the street was paved a lustrous white.

  Abby was about to step away when something caught her attention.

  Across the street, in the Pierces' driveway, something had moved.

  She went stock-still and squinted into the night. But there was nothing there.

  Was she imagining things? She wiped her eyes, trying to rid herself of sleep. Then she saw it again. Something was out there, all right. It looked like an animal, but she couldn't be sure. The shape slipped around the back of the Pierces' house and out of sight. She cupped her hand, holding it over her forehead to block the snow's glare, but the form was gone.

  She looked over her shoulder.

  "Rob? Are you almost done? There's something outside."

  She turned back to the window. This time she saw the figure in plain sight—it was a person coming down the Pierces' driveway.

  The person was wearing a thick, hooded coat and gloves. It looked like John Pierce. She watched as John idled toward his Nissan SUV.

  So she hadn't been imagining things.

  John was carrying a tote bag, and he opened the door of the car and got inside. The vehicle's interior lights came on, and she saw another person in the passenger seat. Were the Pierces leaving?

  The vehicle's headlights flashed; the engine rumbled. A second later, the rear windshield wipers started to move. The blades struggled against the snow, creating a mini-avalanche that tumbled onto the ground below.

  The car went into reverse, fishtailing on the slippery driveway, then switched to drive.

  Abby watched the vehicle roll down the road and disappear around the bend.

  The wind continued to howl.

  A cold fear seized hold of her chest. We need to leave.

  The thought hit her with such force that she reeled back from the window. She pulled out her phone and looked at the time. 12:43 a.m. The snow continued to cascade to the ground below, flakes sticking to the glass. Every minute they waited would make it more difficult to get out. The couple's Civic could barely drive in the summertime, let alone the winter.

  She and Rob only had one car. They'd been meaning to buy another one, but they were still getting settled.

  With the Pierces gone, the neighborhood suddenly felt empty and abandoned, as if she and Rob were the last survivors on a sinking ship. In a matter of moments they'd be overtaken by the elements, buried in a sea of white powder, condemned to die and—

  Stop it, Abby.

  She tried to calm herself, but her thoughts were running rampant.

  The house felt colder than ever.

  "Rob?"

  Abby hadn't heard her husband in several minutes. She dropped the shade and listened, certain he'd have returned by now. There were no sounds save the occasional creak of the floors. The wind quaked.

  "Rob, where the hell are you?"

  She tried to compose herself, but her voice was shaking. The house seemed cold and menacing and uninhabitable, and she stared at the ceiling, certain a branch would come crashing through the plaster at any moment.

  Don't be silly. You'll be fine. The Morgans and the Hamiltons are still here, and so is the new neig
hbor at the end of the street.

  Abby sucked in a slow breath, doing her best to calm herself down. If worse came to worst, she'd walk to the Hamiltons'. It was possible they had a generator. The power would be restored soon. They weren't going to be stranded in the middle of the storm without help. There were plenty of options.

  Get ahold of yourself, Abby.

  She was overreacting, as usual. Her vivid imagination had gotten the best of her. Calm down and stop worrying so much. She felt her pulse start to decelerate, and she even cracked a smile.

  Her smiled faded when another car started up outside.

  Chapter Two

  Abby watched the Morgans' silver Chevy Blazer roll down the street, the somber light of the sky glinting off the hubcaps. The driver and passenger were staring straight ahead, two silhouettes forged in shadow. Neither of them gave Abby's house a glance.

  "Rob? Where are you, Goddammit?"

  There was no answer from the other room.

  She moved toward the doorway, hands tucked under her armpits. Her lungs felt like ice. If the lights had been on, Abby swore she would've been able to see her breath. When she reached the edge of the bedroom, she heard noises from the other end of the house.

  "Rob?"

  She choked back a sob. She was scared now, really scared, and if her husband didn't answer her soon—

  "In here!" Rob called.

  His voice was still hoarse, as if he was in the process of waking up. Either that or he's freezing to death. She stepped out into the hallway, trading the plush of carpet for the smooth gloss of hardwood. Across from the bedroom was a door leading to an office. Eventually Abby and Rob had hoped to use it as a nursery, but they hadn't settled on a timeline.

  There'd be plenty of time for that later, Rob had said.

  Now she was starting to wonder if she'd die of frostbite first.

  She continued down the hall, passing the open bathroom door on her left. About ten feet farther on, the house opened up into the living and dining areas. She navigated her way by the light of the cellphone. The windows in the adjacent room were uncovered, and the pale light of the sky glinted through the windows.

  Rob was kneeling by the large bay window in the living room. His nose was pressed to the glass.

  "Why didn't you answer?" Abby demanded.

  "I was just messing with you." Rob grinned, and he punched her arm. "This is some storm, huh?"

  His words were more of a statement than a question.

  "You can say that again," she said.

  "You didn't hear anything on the news today, did you?"

  "Nope. Not a thing. I didn't even know it could snow in October."

  Rob turned to look at her, his unkempt hair sticking out at odd angles. She'd told him he needed a haircut, but he'd insisted on letting it grow.

  She often teased him about his appearance, but his non-conventional looks were one of the things that had drawn her to him in the first place. Rob was a graphic designer, and his artistic nature extended from his trade to his appearance.

  She walked over and put her hands on his shoulders.

  "Did you get ahold of the power company?" he asked.

  "No. The Internet is crawling. I'm going to use the phone book."

  "I think we have an old electric bill in the kitchen drawer. It should have the phone number on it."

  "OK. Thanks."

  She started to walk away and then hesitated.

  "Did you see the Pierces and the Morgans pulling out? I think we should leave."

  "I saw them. They're a bunch of wussies. We'll be fine."

  Abby shook her head. Instead of being comforted, she was worried. The two of them were from Georgia, and this was their first winter in New England. She'd seen plenty of snowstorms, but all of them had been from the safe, warm confines of a Vermont ski lodge.

  None of them had been like this.

  Sensing her unease, her husband waved her back to the window.

  "Come here, baby," he said.

  She walked over and bent down next to him, letting him pull her in for a kiss.

  "We'll be fine."

  "I'm worried, Rob. Every time I hear something snap I think a tree's going to fall on top of us."

  "That's what we have homeowner's insurance for, right?"

  "What if one of them comes through the roof and hits us? What if a branch falls on the car?"

  "You need stop worrying so much," he said. "Think of it as an adventure. It'll be romantic. We'll have the whole street to ourselves. We can cuddle in bed and get warm."

  She forced a smile. "Famous last words. They'll find our frozen bodies stuck together in the spring when the snow thaws."

  "Would that be so bad? At least we'd be together."

  She squeezed him tight and then stood up again. Rob reached for her, but she avoided his hands.

  "Where are you going?" he asked, feigning hurt feelings.

  "I have to call the power company. No one else is going to do it." She smiled into the darkness. "I'll be right back."

  Abby stepped away from her husband's crouched figure and headed into the kitchen. When she reached the counter next to the stove, she slid open the top drawer and sifted through the papers inside using the light of her cellphone. Checkbook. Mortgage statement. Stamp book. She finally found the latest electric bill on the bottom of the pile, and she pulled it out, searching for the number. She located it on the bottom of the statement.

  "Got it," she muttered to no one in particular.

  She tapped a few buttons on her phone and started dialing. While she waited for the number to connect, she walked over to the sink and peered out onto the deck. The porch, which was normally gray in color, now shone a glossy white. She flicked on one of the nearby light switches, but the backyard remained dark.

  After a few rings, the phone connected. She followed the automated prompts until she'd reached the reporting line.

  "Please enter the phone number for the location in which you are reporting an outage."

  She punched in her home number.

  "Is the property without power located at 5 Jameson Street in Plainfield?"

  She confirmed that it was.

  "The outage in your area has already been reported. At this time, there is no estimated time of restoration. Updates will be posted as soon as they are available."

  Abby held the phone away from her ear and stared at it in disbelief. After a few seconds, she hit the number again, listening to the message repeat.

  "Well, that's just great."

  A few hours ago, she hadn't even been aware there was a storm. Now they were stuck without heat and power, with no way of knowing when it would return.

  She held her hands to her face to capture the warmth from her cheeks. The house contained a fireplace, but they hadn't gotten it cleaned yet. Even if they had, they didn't have any firewood.

  Welcome to New England, Abby.

  "Honey?" she called, trying to keep her composure. "I have bad news."

  She sucked in a cold breath and stuffed the phone back into her pocket, then returned to the living room. Rob was still kneeling at the window, staring intently at the storm. She shared the news with him.

  "We need to leave. I don't want to stay here anymore. This house is just going to get colder and colder."

  Rob kept his nose pressed to the glass. Outside, a gust of wind spattered snow across the pane. After a few seconds, he sighed.

  "You know what, Abs? I think you're right."

  "Where should we go?" Rob asked.

  "I don't know. A motel? Anything would be better than this icebox."

  Rob continued to rifle through the cabinets. After a few more seconds, he held up the flashlight in triumph. There was a click, and then he illuminated Abby's face in a bright white beam. She squinted through the glare.

  "Really, Rob?"

  "Sorry." Rob laughed and lowered the flashlight. "Where do you think everyone else went?"

  "Probably to stay with fami
ly."

  Her husband lowered his eyes. She could tell he was trying to avoid an argument. It'd been Rob's idea to move to Connecticut. He'd been offered a job at a design firm, and they'd chosen to follow his career rather than stay in Georgia.

  Although she'd agreed to move, it was times like this that made her wish they'd stayed close to relatives.

  Rob pulled out a handful of candles and placed them on the counter next to the stove.

  "What are those for?"

  "Backup."

  "Backup for what?"

  "In case the car won't start."

  Abby's face grew pale.

  "Don't even joke like that," she said.

  "I'm sorry, honey. I'm sure we'll be fine. I'll go fire up the car. Why don't you start packing?"

  Rob handed her the flashlight, then kissed her on the forehead.

  "Relax. Everything will work out just fine."

  "You really think so?"

  "It's a winter storm, Abby. I'm sure we'll get a lot more of them before the end of the season. We'll survive. We'll just have to be better prepared next time."

  Abby remained doubtful, but she followed her husband through the kitchen anyway. Cold or not, at least she was with the man she loved.

  And that was all that counted, right?

  She heaved a sigh, her socks sliding across the hardwood.

  Till death do us part, Abby.

  If they couldn't get the car started, maybe death would come sooner than she thought.

  Chapter Three

  Abby laid two duffel bags on the bed. Using the flashlight, she trekked to the bureau and picked out several sets of thick winter clothing.

  The cold air nipped at her hands and cheeks.

  Thank God we don't have any children.

  If they did, her worries would have been amplified. But she did want them. Someday.

  After packing her things, she made her way over to Rob's bureau. It was difficult to prepare when they didn't know how long they'd be gone. Would it be one day? Two?

  She had no idea how long they'd have to wait for the power to return. In all likelihood, the electric company wouldn't send out trucks until the storm had subsided, and who knew how long that'd be. She'd seen how slippery the roads were when the neighbors left. She doubted the plows were even out yet. She stowed a few of Rob's clothing items and zipped up the bags.