The Incident | Book 3 | Winter of Darkness

by Johnson, J. M.

  WINTER OF DARKNESS

  The Incident Book 3

  J.M. Johnson

  Copyright © 2021 J.M. Johnson

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of J.M. Johnson.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names (other than place names) characters, businesses, organizations and events are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events of persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  The town of Mores Lake is a fictitious place and is not meant to resemble any particular town in the province of British Columbia, Canada.

  Cover Design: J.M. Johnson

  Part 1 – The Incident

  Chapter 1 - Blackout

  “Damn.”

  Miriam stuck a bleeding finger into her mouth. The sudden loss of light startled her enough that the knife had slipped from its intended target. She peered at the square of cheese she was slicing. “No blood on it, that’s good,” she muttered to herself.

  “Powers out!” Miriam peeked around the arched doorway into the living room. Stan was squinting at the newspaper in his lap. He looked up and scowled.

  “Yeah, I see that. I hope it’s not for too long.”

  “Me too.” Miriam gave up on the cheese and came to sit across from him. “Last time it was all night.”

  She glanced through the picture window. The sun was setting and the sky was ablaze with red and orange. Across the street, an abandoned lawn mower sat in the middle of the front yard. An orange cord stretched behind it and disappeared into the open garage door. A few minutes ago, Stan had grumbled about the roar of the engine at this late hour. It was nearly ten, but they were far enough north that true dark was still an hour away.

  The silence was broken by the crash of the back door being flung open. Fifteen-year-old Tara, her red hair flying behind her, rushed in.

  Stan jumped to his feet. “Damn it, Tara…” he began but stopped when he saw her face. “What?”

  She stopped to catch her breath. “Call the police, Dad. There’s all kinds of accidents downtown and people are hurt.”

  “You ran home to tell us this?” Miriam grabbed her daughter’s arm. “Why didn’t you call them on your cell?”

  “It’s not working.” The girl held up her phone which showed a dark screen. “Nobody’s phone works. I thought the landline would be okay.”

  Stan groped under the chair cushion for the cordless phone. “You were a block away from the police station.” He frowned at his daughter. “Why didn’t you go there?” He shook the phone. “Why isn’t this working?”

  “I don’t know.” She looked at her mother for support. “It was scary and I just wanted to get home.”

  Miriam hugged Tara. Stan stabbed at the phone, muttering to himself.

  “Damn thing’s not working!” He grabbed the car keys from the hook beside the back door. “Probably faster to drive down there. It’s only a few blocks.” The door slammed behind him.

  Miriam sank down onto the couch, Tara beside her. They both turned as Danny galloped down the stairs.

  “Hey, what’s up? I just saw Dad running down the street!”

  Miriam stared at him. “Running? He was going to drive to the police station.”

  Danny shrugged. “Take a look.” He waved towards the picture window.

  Sure enough, Stan was trotting past the Thompson house. The tail of his shirt flapped against his round buttocks and the slippers he still wore slapped at his heels. The children started to giggle.

  “I’ve never seen Dad run.” Tara laughed before noticing her mom’s face. “I guess something must be really wrong.” Her voice rose. “What do you think is wrong, Mom? All the cars crashing, then no phones, then Dad running!”

  Miriam tried to smile. “The power is out, that’s all. Dad must have decided that walking was faster than getting the car out of the garage.”

  Seeing that her children weren’t convinced, she grabbed their hands.

  “Let’s have ice cream. We don’t want it to melt.”

  Danny grimaced. He had been working part-time at the ice cream parlour and was getting tired of ice cream. It had been fun at first when Mr. Reilley told him he could have all he wanted, but after a couple of weeks, he craved a hamburger.

  “Come on.” Miriam tugged her son’s hand. “I’ve got some cheese and crackers too. I’ll fix them while you run down and get the ice cream.”

  As Danny disappeared down the basement stairs she called after him. “Grab some flashlights too. They’re on the shelf over the washing machine.”

  The kitchen was completely dark when Miriam sent the children up to bed. They each took a flashlight and reluctantly left her alone at the table. When the bobbing lights disappeared into their rooms Miriam picked up her own flashlight and made her way to the couch. Stan had been gone for over two hours and she was beginning to worry. It was a twenty-minute walk to the police station, even considering he had run out with his slippers on. No traffic had passed, no lights shone from the neighbour’s windows. The black hole left by the open garage door across the street suddenly looked threatening. She shivered involuntarily feeling very alone. She stretched out on the couch, covering herself with the afghan that had been folded over the back.

  The click of the front door opening woke her. “Stan?” She rubbed her eyes and reached toward his shadowy form.

  “Why are you down here?”

  “Waiting for you. What happened? What time is it anyway?” Instinctively she reached for the lamp.

  “Don’t bother.” The couch sank slightly as he lowered himself onto it. “It’s about three o’clock, I think. No power yet.” He yawned noisily.

  “It’ll be light soon,” Miriam said absently, taking his hand.

  “It’s a mess, Miriam. It’s not only the electricity that’s out. Everything with a motor or a computer in it appears to have quit too. Somebody saw a plane crash over in the west. Everybody’s car quit at the same time, that’s why they all crashed into each other. Nobody could call for help because their phones didn’t work.”

  “Is that why you didn’t take the car?”

  He pulled his hand free and leaned forward, putting his head into his cupped palms. “I couldn’t open the door to the garage. An automatic door is very convenient, but not if the power goes out.” He sighed. “Not that it would have done any good if the car won’t start.”

  Miriam stood up. “Come on, you need to sleep. It’ll probably all be back to normal in the morning.” She glanced outside. Already the light was changing and the yard was washed in a pearly glow. Birds tweeted, and the cat from next door sprinted across the deserted street.

  “You’re right. I’ll sleep for a few hours, then I have to go to work.” Stan stood unsteadily. “Are you coming?”

  “Of course.” Slowly they made their way upstairs to sleep and wait for the world to return to normal.

  Chapter 2 – Day One

  Mores Lake is a tiny town nestled in the mountains of northern B.C. To the west, mountains heavy with forests, and with hidden lakes yet to be discovered, loom over the town. The nearest city of any size is a hundred and sixty kilometres away accessed by a winding, two-lane highway. The town boasts a swimming pool, an arena, and a curling rink that are always busy in their season.

  Summers are pleasant, with long twilights that last until nearly midnight in June and July. Winters are long and cold. Snow piles to the eavestroughs by Chris
tmas. Starting in October, the residents hunker down, leaving town only for necessary shopping or minor hockey tournaments.

  The downtown is small, with only three or four blocks of stores and office buildings. It’s surrounded by subdivisions that taper gently into country roads, large acreages, and farms.

  Stan was up early, despite his long night. Coming down the stairs he flipped the kitchen light switch. Nothing happened. He sighed. No power meant no coffee before work.

  He glanced at his phone. The screen was black.

  “Maybe you should stay home.” He jumped slightly at Miriam’s voice.

  “You startled me.”

  Wrapped in her housecoat, hair tangled, and sleepy-eyed, Miriam joined him in the kitchen. “There won’t be anyone there, and you can’t work anyway.”

  “I know.” He answered. “But it’s only a short walk, and maybe someone will know what’s going on.”

  “Okay, but I’m going back to bed.” She gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Be careful out there.”

  He laughed. “What could happen in Mores Lake?”

  He stopped on the front porch to inhale deeply. A warm breeze ruffled his hair and the leaves of the willow in the front yard. The only sound was the twittering of birds. It was a perfect day for a walk. He wondered why he didn’t do it more often. Instead, he and his neighbours jumped into cars and drove five minutes to their offices and stores, often missing the day entirely.

  Across the street, Bill Watson emerged from his garage and waved. Stan waved back.

  “Quite a thing, hey?” Bill called. He began rolling up the cord of his lawnmower. “I don’t know if I should go to work or wait for the lights to come on.”

  “I’m going in,” Stan answered. “Have to walk though.”

  Bill acknowledged him with another wave and disappeared inside, pulling the mower behind him.

  Stan whistled as he strode down his front walk and onto the street. As he passed the Thompson house, he noticed that Will’s red Mustang was not parked in its customary spot. Somebody peeked through the kitchen window as he passed. Probably old man Thompson. He hardly ever came out of his house, preferring to stay inside and drink, even on the sunniest days. Stan thought the younger Thompson, that boy Will was following in his father’s footsteps. All he wanted to do was chase girls and disrupt the neighbourhood with that noisy car of his. That would be one good thing if the car was out of commission permanently.

  Stan walked faster, shaking thoughts of the Thompsons out of his mind. He had more important things to consider, like what in hell had happened to the town, and how long would it last.

  He stopped whistling when he turned the corner onto Main Street. Despite the early hour, the street was crowded. People milled about in loose groups, leaning over their disabled vehicles and huddling in doorways with their heads close together.

  “Hey, Phil.” Stan waved at his partner who was standing in one of the groups. “You’re up early.”

  “Who could sleep?” Phil Mathews ran a hand through his thinning grey hair. As usual, he stooped as if trying to hide his six-foot-six body. His narrow face was showing an overnight bristle of whiskers. “This whole thing is driving me crazy.”

  “It’s only one night,” Stan soothed. “We’ve had power outages before.”

  “Not like this!” Phil waved his hand, indicating the cars piled onto each other, some leaning against light poles. “Power outages are one thing. Cars and phones suddenly powerless are another. And did you see that plane that went down? We couldn’t even go and see what happened because the damn doors on the fire station wouldn’t open.”

  Another man chimed in. Stan recognized one of the lawyers who had an office a few buildings further down the street. “They could open the doors manually, but the trucks won’t start anyway.”

  Voices rose around them. Some sounded scared. Some were angry. All were confused. Somebody tugged on Stan’s arm. “What about insurance, hey? Are we going to be able to claim anything?”

  Stan ignored him and spoke to Phil. “Let's get out of here, Phil. Nobody knows anything. We’ll go to the office and decide what to do.”

  “The office?” Phil stooped even further and pushed his face near to Stan’s. “What for? We can’t call anybody. We can’t answer any questions. I don’t even know why I came down here.”

  “Hey!” A rough voice interrupted the two men. “Aren’t you the insurance guys?” Phil straightened and turned away, leaving Stan to answer.

  He watched in dismay as his partner pushed through the crowd and strode away. Stan shook his questioner off and moved quickly to his office. Before opening the door, he turned to take one more look at the usually peaceful street. Shaking his head, he locked the door behind himself. Phil was right, there was nothing he could do and no way to find answers.

  The morning sun couldn’t quite dispel the shadows in the corners of the office. Dust motes swirled around Jade’s empty desk. Her chair was pushed back from the computer, ready for another day. He wondered if she would bother coming in. He stepped towards the coffee pot, pursed his lips and turned to look back at the street. The letters on the window were backward from this side, but they were familiar to him. “Morrison and Mathews, Insurance Brokers, Always here for you”. The words were meant to be reassuring, but who was going to reassure him?

  There was a pounding on the door. Through the glass, he saw the man who had accosted him earlier. He moved to open the door, then stopped. At least ten men were pressed against the window. None of them looked happy. He didn’t think they could see him standing in the shadows. Suddenly afraid, Stan stepped into his private office. He would wait here until they left, then if the lights had not come back on, he would go home. Miriam would be worried.

  Chapter 3 – Realization

  It was near noon when Stan walked into the kitchen. He stepped aside as Miriam’s sister Maureen brushed past. She dragged two sobbing five-year-olds by their hands.

  “Bad day?” Stan questioned, grinning.

  “Don’t even ask!” The back door slammed.

  “What's with her?” He pulled out a chair and joined his wife at the table.

  Miriam looked up from the list she was making. “Everybody’s just tired,” she said. “What are you doing home?”

  “Powers still out, so nothing to do. Plus, I thought I’d better get out of there before I was mobbed.”

  She shook her head and her long hair swirled around her face. “Mobbed?”

  “Yeah, by all the people wanting to put in claims for their wrecked cars.” Stan loved his wife’s long curls. He resisted the urge to reach out and grab an auburn tendril. “They don’t seem to understand that nothing is going to happen until we have computer access again.” He looked around the quiet kitchen. “Where are the kids?”

  “They went to work. Danny thought Mr. Reilley would need help at the ice cream parlour, and Tara went down to the pool, just in case they decide to open.”

  “It’s going to be hot today, so opening the pool might be a good idea.”

  Miriam added something to the list. “It would give people something to do besides worry.” She reached for her phone, “I should call Maureen and suggest she take the twins…” her voice trailed off as she held the useless device. “Darn!”

  Stan laughed. “I’ve been doing that all day.” His expression changed to wistful. “But mostly I just want a cup of coffee.”

  They were interrupted by the front door slamming. Tara stomped into the kitchen, her long braid bouncing on her back. “This is bullshit.” She threw herself down beside her Dad.

  “Hey, hey!” He held up his hand. “Language!”

  “What’s wrong?” Miriam eyed her with concern. “No lifeguarding today?”

  “Can’t get in.” Tara folded her arms and pushed her bottom lip out. “Electronic locks.”

  Her parent’s eyes met as they tried not to smile. Miriam pushed back from the table. “Never mind, you can help me find all the things o
n my list. I have to go shopping and I can use the help carrying stuff.”

  “What kind of stuff?” Tara tried to seem unconcerned, but her eyes betrayed her interest.

  “Oh,” her mother answered. “Exciting things like batteries and candles. Hot dogs for lunch, since we can’t cook on the stove. Water to drink. Food we don’t have to cook.”

  Stan looked worried. “I’d better come with you too. There are going to be a lot of people who need the same things. Do you have any cash?”

  Tara’s interest had died with the mention of batteries. Her idea of shopping was cute clothes and shoes for the upcoming school year. “You don’t need me if Dad’s going. I’ll stay here and text Julie.” Her best friend had recently moved to Toronto, and Tara was bereft without her. She had tried to fill the time with this lifeguard job her mom had forced her into, and now that was gone too.

  Her mom’s voice was gentle. “No phone, remember?”

  “Shit! Shit! Shit!” Tara laid her head on the table. “What can happen to me next?”

  Stan gripped his daughter’s shoulder. “Watch your tongue, young lady. It’s one day. You can live without texting for one day! Now grab your shoes and let’s go.”

  A sullen Tara followed her parents to the local grocery store. Only the sight of the Thompson boy sitting on his step perked her up. He gave her a little wave as they passed. A cigarette dangled from his lips. His friend Biff leaned against the corner of the house. Tara smiled and waved back. Her Dad scowled and walked faster.

  They stopped in surprise when the parking lot came into view. A crowd billowed around the glass doors. A man with a battery-operated megaphone stood on a chair and tried to get their attention. His words went unheeded as people shouted and shook their fists in his direction.

  Stan told his wife to stay where she was and pushed into the crowd. He grabbed a man by the arm. “What's he saying?”