Night of the Wendigo

by William Meikle

  “Are you up to speed?”

  “Big fucking blizzard and flesh-eating cold guys. Does that cover it?”

  “Just about. We’re nearly there. Meet us at the delivery bay. We’re coming in hot, and we’ve got unfriendly company.”

  “Left or right?” Mike shouted.

  Mina looked up from her phone. They approached the T-junction where the road split to circle the small park.

  “Left or right?” he said. “Quickly.”

  “Straight on.”

  “Through the park?”

  “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s mostly grass. We don’t have time to go round.”

  In her wing mirror she saw that the number of pursuers was growing. There were at least ten of them now, the nearest less than fifty yards behind them.

  “Through the park it is.”

  The ambulance shuddered and jolted as they crossed the park boundary. If Mina hadn’t been belted in she would definitely be down in the footwell this time.

  Behind her Jackie moaned as her gurney rattled and shook in the back, but she didn’t wake up.

  “Jon? Are you still there?” Mina said.

  “I’m on my way to the delivery bay. I’ll be there in less than a minute.”

  “Home, coachman,” she said to Mike. “And don’t spare the horses.”

  That got her a thin-lipped grin.

  They bounced through the unbroken snow, the ambulance rolling and yawing like a small boat in a heavy swell.

  “If I remember rightly there’s a lake in here somewhere,” Mike said.

  “It’s more like a pond,” Mina replied. “Try not to go in it. I’m not dressed for swimming.”

  Their attackers had closed to thirty yards by the time they exited the far side of the park. They hit something hard, what felt like a small wall under the snow. The cab suddenly filled with the sound of metal grinding against stone. The back end lifted two feet in the air, and then fell back, sending a jolt of pain through Mina’s lower back. There was a bad couple of seconds when they seemed to stall, but the engine coughed back into life. It spluttered and wheezed, but provided enough drive to keep them moving forward.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Mina said.

  “Best get Jackie unstrapped,” Mike replied. “I don’t think we’ll have time to wheel her in.”

  Mike had to fight the wheel now. It bucked in his hands like a living thing.

  “One of the back wheels has gone,” he said. “And we’re leaking fuel.”

  The forensic building was less than a hundred yards away, the low concrete building almost hidden by snow. The road here was clear of abandoned cars, but it was narrow. The ambulance slid viciously from side to side.

  “Will we make it?” Mina said as she crawled into the back once more.

  Mike didn’t answer. He floored the accelerator and the vehicle screeched in protest.

  They slalomed down the last stretch of road.

  “Hang on,” Mike shouted as they approached their destination.

  He spun the wheel to his right.

  They slid into a two-wheel turn up the driveway, ploughing snow ahead of them, slowing all the time. The engine screamed like a dying dinosaur.

  They slammed into a deep drift, sending Mina and the gurney rattling in the back.

  The engine finally gave up as the ambulance tipped over at a thirty degree angle.

  “Everybody out,” Mike called.

  Mina unstrapped Jackie from the gurney. She slapped the woman lightly on the face.

  “Time to get up,” she said. But the archaeologist’s eyes were rolled up in their sockets. She was out cold.

  The back door of the ambulance opened. Mike stood there strapping on the flame thrower.

  “Come on,” he shouted.

  Over his shoulder Mina saw dark shapes striding through the snow. They were less than twenty yards away, and closing fast.

  CHAPTER 5

  From alt.ufo.kooks

  They’re here. The white humanoids are from Rigel B. I’ve seen them before, on abductions seven and eighteen. Don’t worry. They’re friendly. If you ask them nicely they’ll even let you sleep with their women.

  From the End of the World forum.

  Ragnarok! The twilight of the gods is here. Tell me I’m wrong? The world will turn to an icy wasteland. Fenrir, king of all wolves, will be unleashed to devour the moon, and even Thor’s mighty hammer will not save Midgard from the death of all things. The time of men is ended! Put Wagner on the stereo, break out the mead and pull up a chair in front of the television. Place your bets, ladies and gentlemen. We’re getting a ringside seat at the last great battle. Seconds out, round one.

  From us.politics

  Did anybody tape the broadcast from Brooklyn Bridge? Please tell me somebody did? Did you see the way it cut off at the end? Somebody pulled the plug. The goddamn government is censoring what we can see! Don’t believe them when they tell you it’s localized in New York. I’m out here in Effort, Pennsylvania. It’s snowing heavily, and there are big critters out there. But don’t worry about me, friends. If any get close to me, Granddaddy’s shotgun will take care of business.

  From the End of the World forum.

  The time of men is ended? Thank fuck for that. It was getting boring anyway.

  * * *

  Mike helped Mina manhandle Jackie out of the cab.

  “Can you manage her on your own?” he said.

  Mina dropped her shoulder and put Jackie in a fireman’s lift. With her free hand she lifted the shotgun.

  “I won’t have time to reload,” she said as she headed round the side of the van.

  “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back. Just make sure the door’s open when I get there. I won’t be hanging around.”

  Mike retreated backwards, putting himself between Mina and the attackers.

  They were almost on him already.

  The nearest, a tall man wearing tattered street clothes and half of a pair of spectacles, was less than five yards away.

  “Stay back,” Mike shouted, but he’d have had as much luck shouting at a wall.

  It kept coming. It had the same white-eyed stare Mike had seen before in the eyes of Brian Johnson.

  How the fuck can these things see?

  Everything in Mike’s training told him to hold back. Despite the blank stare it still looked like a civilian, and it wasn’t armed. Under normal circumstances he’d be under an IA investigation just for pointing his weapon.

  News flash, sports fans. Normal service isn’t about to be resumed anytime soon.

  He pulled the trigger and fired a spray of flame over its head, but it never so much as flinched.

  “That’s all the warning you get,” Mike muttered.

  He flamed it from head to toe, having to stand back from the heat. Even as it burned it kept coming, a human torch of silently roasting flesh. The snow around it hissed and sizzled like water droplets on a hot plate.

  Mike tasted cooking meat in his throat, and felt his gorge rising.

  Just let me get out of this in one piece, and I swear to God I’ll never eat pork again.

  “Die, you bastard,” he shouted, and flamed it.

  One of the white eyes melted, flowing like thick yoghurt down a smoldering cheek.

  Finally it fell, face first in the snow where it spluttered and sizzled.

  Three more stepped into its space, stamping the smoldering ruin down into a puddle of grey-black slush.

  All of his instincts told him to run, but Mina was somewhere at his back. He had to buy her some time.

  He retreated, washing flame after flame over his attackers.

  They burned and they fell, but more always stepped forward to take their place.

  The smell was almost unbearable. Through his gloves Mike felt the muzzle of the flame thrower growing warm in his hands.

  He kept retreating, slow as he dared, hoping that Mina had already reached safety.

  He knew he must be very
near the corner. The delivery bay was less than five yards past that, but he couldn’t afford the time to turn and look.

  He had torched six now.

  Six people, a small voice said at the back of his mind. He pushed it away.

  Four more still came for him. He had to back off faster to avoid getting caught in the backwash as he pulled the trigger and sent out another jet of fire.

  The weapon spluttered, almost gave out, and then caught again, washing over the frozen ones.

  Clothes burned and stuck to the bodies. The hair of one that had once been a young woman caught fire and lit up like a halo around her head.

  The air was suddenly filled with acrid black smoke.

  Three of the four attackers fell to the ground, still burning, but the fourth had been partially protected by the others. Although burned and smoldering down one side it kept coming, a single white eye fixed straight ahead.

  Mike pressed the trigger of the flame thrower.

  And nothing happened.

  He’d run out of fuel. He let the muzzle fall, swinging by his side.

  He reached for the shotgun slung at his back.

  It caught in the straps of the flame thrower. When Mike tugged to try to free it he overbalanced and fell on his side in the snow, trapping the gun beneath him.

  The frozen thing kept coming inexorably on at the same steady speed.

  Mike reached inside his suit with his free hand, searching for his service pistol.

  The frozen creature lurched towards him, less than a yard away now.

  Mike’s hand closed around the grip of the pistol, but when he tried to pull the gun out it caught up in the material of the survival suit.

  I’m not going to make it.

  The creature bent over him, giving Mike a close up of a mouth full of chipped and broken teeth. Its tongue looked like a dead grey slug, and its breath stank, of raw meat and congealed blood.

  Mike forgot about trying to unholster the gun. He threw a hand in front of his face, stifling a scream.

  Something whirred, an almost metallic sound.

  A heavy meat cleaver embedded itself in the creature’s forehead, almost splitting the skull in two.

  Mike kicked out with both feet and the frozen body fell away from him.

  Another shape loomed out of the night, a squat bulky figure in a heavy overcoat, face white as snow.

  Mike finally managed to get his pistol from inside his pocket. He took aim at the figure’s left eye.

  The man blinked, brown eyes staring at Mike.

  “Don’t shoot, for Christ’s sake. I just saved your life.”

  * * *

  Mina reached the delivery bay doors just as they opened.

  She’d carried Jackie less than thirty yards, but the snow had been piled deep in places. She felt as if she’d done a five-mile run carrying a fifty-kilo pack.

  Jon stood just inside the door, pale and obviously afraid. He held a pistol in his right hand, but it was shaking alarmingly. She dropped the shotgun and held out her free hand.

  “Give me the gun, Jon. You’ll have better luck handling Jackie here.”

  The technician handed her the pistol. He looked thankful to be rid of it.

  “Take her to the lab,” Mina said, almost dropping Jackie into his arms. “And try not to lose her on the way.”

  She turned back to the door, just in time to see Mike run around the corner alongside a short, stocky figure.

  “He’s with me,” Mike shouted. “Close the door. We’ve got incoming.”

  Mina moved to one side, giving Mike a free run. She paused, her hand over the button that would both close the door and bring down the internal security barrier.

  Behind Mike, four of the frozen ones came round the corner.

  “Close it. Close it now,” Mike shouted.

  Mina counted to three, and then hit the button.

  The doors started to close.

  Mike and his companion threw themselves forward and made it through with inches to spare as the sliding glass door shut behind them.

  The metal security barrier came down just as the frozen ones reached it. The outer glass broke as the four bodies threw themselves at it, and then came the deep thud of icy fists on metal.

  The metal buckled slightly in places, but the barrier held.

  Mina turned to where Mike and the new man lay sprawled on the ground.

  “Well don’t just laze around there, man. We’ve got work to do,” she said.

  She offered Mike a hand and pulled him to his feet and into a hug. Their weapons and suits got in the way, but she had never felt so good.

  She kissed him, full on the mouth. It lasted for several seconds before Mina was distracted by an embarrassed cough.

  “I take it you two know each other?”

  She pulled away from Mike, reluctantly.

  “Oh, we’re just good friends,” she said. “Who are you?”

  Mike put a hand on her shoulder.

  “He saved my life out there. I owe him one.”

  “Then I owe you one as well,” Mina said. She stuck her hand out for the newcomer to shake.

  “I’m Mina.”

  The man shook her hand while looking around him.

  “Cole. Cole Barter. What is this place?”

  “The County Forensics Lab,” Mike said. “But don’t get her started about it. She’s the boss. She’ll bore you for hours.”

  “Forensics? Do have any painkillers?”

  He showed Mina the weeping sore on his left palm.

  Frostbite. And it’s nearly down to the bone, she thought.

  She tried to keep her voice light.

  “Normally the people we see in here are way past the point of feeling pain,” she said. “But we’ve got a full medical kit down in the lab. Jon’s got our other patient down there. He’ll have broken the kit open already. I’ll take you down.”

  “I’ll stay here,” Mike said. “Just in case.”

  “These doors are centrally locked,” Mina said. “They’re steel…an inch thick. Nothing’s coming through there.”

  “We’ll see,” Mike said grimly. “But we’ve both seen the movies. They always break in. Somehow, they always break in.”

  As if to prove him right the pounding from the other side of the door rose in ferocity.

  Mike dropped the flame thrower to the ground at his feet and cradled the shotgun in his right arm.

  “Get our hero here some bandages and Novocain,” he said. “And bring me back a coffee when you get time.”

  “You sure about this?” Mina asked softly.

  Mike nodded.

  “We can’t be too careful. I’ve no idea what’s happened to those people. All I know is that they’re fast and vicious. We’ll be in deep trouble if they get past the barrier. Hurry back, darlin’. I’m missing you already.”

  * * *

  When Mina got Cole to the lab, Jon was standing over Jackie Donnelly. She was still out cold.

  The tall technician seemed unsure what to do next.

  “I never thought I’d hear myself say this, Jon,” Mina said. “But you have my permission to take that woman’s trousers off.”

  Jon reached down and, very slowly, inched the sealskin leggings down.

  Mina watched him for several seconds.

  “On second thought,” she said. “It’s obvious you’re far too long out of practice. Take care of Cole here. I’ll handle Ms Donnelly.”

  Cole Barter jerked as if he’d been slapped.

  “Not Jackie Donnelly?”

  “That’s the one,” Mina said as Cole walked over and looked down at the sleeping archaeologist. “Do you know her?”

  It took the man a while to answer.

  Something’s wrong here. This man looks like I’ve just caught him with his hand in the cookie jar.

  Cole looked away from the sleeping woman. He refused to look Mina in the eye.

  “We’ve met,” he said. He allowed Jon to lead him to a chair. He
intentionally refused to look anywhere near the unconscious Jackie.

  He’s guilty, of something at least, Mina thought. I don’t need Mike’s spider-sense to tell me that.

  Mina put it away in the back of her mind to join the other stuff she’d packed in there to think about later.

  Getting busy in there.

  For now, Jackie was her priority. She eased the sealskin leggings down.

  Back in the ambulance she’d only had a quick look at the damage. Now that she had more time, she could see it was even worse than she thought.

  She’d cut the archaeologist’s denims open earlier. Now when she spread the material apart, dead frozen flesh came away with it, leaving behind deep weeping wounds.

  “Jon,” she said softly. “I’m going to need some help here when you’re done.”

  “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

  Mina carefully parted the denim so that the whole extent of the damage was visible. Where the icy hand had grabbed the archaeologist around the calf, the muscle had been frozen and killed in a deep, five-fingered pattern; now no more than five massive sores. In one of them, the white of bone was clearly visible.

  “Shit,” Mina whispered.

  Jackie was in for a deal of hurt: surgery, physiotherapy, not to mention any psychological damage. Currently, in her drugged state, she looked peaceful, almost calm.

  “I’ll try to keep it that way for you,” she whispered. “Jon. I really need your help.”

  “Coming.”

  Mina bent over the wounds again, feeling nausea rise. Dead people she could handle. Live ones she’d been sharing a beer with earlier that evening were a different matter.

  * * *

  Cole flexed his left hand, half expecting a new flare of pain. None came. The technician had done a good job. With the bandage, and a healthy handful of painkillers, Cole was pain-free. He felt floaty, slightly disconnected from reality.