Bitter Cold (9 page)

“What the fuck are you now, the neighborhood morality police?” Carrie got loud. “What’s the matter? You’re not gettin’ any so you gotta stop us from doin’ it, too?”

Doug patted her shoulder. “Honey, please,” he looked at Jeff. “If you must know, we thought it’d be fun to run naked in the snow. You know, shock your body in the freezing cold, then jump in the hot tub. It’s a rush.”

“Yeah,” Carrie leaned against her headrest. “But it’s a lot more fun when the neighbor isn’t peeping on you.”

“I wasn’t peeping,” Jeff’s gaze moved deliberately from one suspicious area in the yard to the next. “I came here to warn you. It’s dangerous out there. You didn’t see anything, did you? Anything at all out of the ordinary?”

“Out of the ordinary?” she laughed. “You mean except for about three feet of snow and counting. If you haven’t noticed, that’s pretty out of the ordinary for this part of Oregon.”

Jeff shook his head, keeping his eyes on a steady path, scanning for any anomaly. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what are you talking about, Jeff?” Doug sat up. “Because I’d like to know.”

“
We’d
like to know,” Carrie punctuated her husband’s request.

“I’m talking about,” Jeff pulled up his cap and ran his fingers over his closely cropped head, scratching and massaging his scalp. “I don’t know. Goddammit, I don’t know! It looks like snow, only black. Imagine the blackest black you’ve ever seen. Now make it even blacker, and you’ve got what this thing looks like.”

Doug lifted his palms. “If it looks like snow, how can it be black? Snow’s white, dummy,” he shook his head and smiled at his wife. She rolled her eyes.

“I didn’t say it
was
snow,” Jeff glared at him. “It looks like snow, except instead of white…”

“It’s black,” Carrie sipped from her wine glass. “We get it. Since when does snow turn black? What was it? Some sort of pollution?”

“Or maybe it was just a shadow, Jeff,” Doug took a draw from his Coors bottle and belched.

“Doug!” she glared.

“Sorry. But anyway, Jeff, did you think about that? Maybe all you saw was a shadow.”

“A shadow can’t take a kid’s foot off,” he said.

“By god, Amy was telling the truth for once,” Doug stared at his wife. “And here I thought she was just making all of it up so she would have an excuse to leave. What do you know, hon’? Our daughter was right. We
do
have a nutjob for a neighbor.”

Carrie snickered, letting a little wine slip from her nose. Doug laughed at her. He chugged some more beer and let out another hollow burst of gas.

Jeff ran out of places to look. Short of walking down and checking, the property seemed clean. Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling. Something about the dead silence. Their road usually had a relaxed, country feel to it, and the white wintry blanket made the air even softer yet. However, there seemed to be more of a hush over the Mitchell estate than should have been natural. The snowflakes made no sound, as if they were afraid to be heard by the dark creature. The rows of bent, leafless apple trees told no secrets, shutting their twisted, knotted mouths and not speaking of the ancient evil living in their valley.

“Dad!” Logan’s voice was barely louder than a whisper. “We should go.”

“Listen to your son, Jeff,” Carrie’s speech became slurred. “That boy seems to have more sense than you do. A lot more sense. At least he’s not stupid enough to play with matches. Or maybe you taught him that lesson, huh?”

“Carrie!” Doug splashed water in his beer. “Don’t bring that up. Not now.”

“Why not!” she demanded. “I think we should. I mean, look at him. Something’s not right with him. He’s a danger now just like he was a danger twenty-five years ago when he let our little boy die!”

“Come on, Dad,” Logan touched Jeff’s back.

Jeff locked glassy stares with Carrie. “I tried to save Eddy!”

“Don’t you DARE say his name!” Carrie flared.

“Aren’t you ever going to let it go?”

“Let it go? You want me to let it go? You let my son die!”

“I tried to save his life!” Jeff clenched his fists. “Just like I’m trying to save yours, now!”

“Is that it?” Carrie snickered. She turned to her dumbfounded husband. “You hear that? He’s trying to make up for killing our son. Here he is, twenty-five years later, and he’s gonna be our savior,” she returned her glare to Jeff. “We don’t need rescuing. If you can’t tell, we’ve done just fine for ourselves. We
have
moved on. Looks to me like it’s you who hasn’t. I mean really, monsters turning the snow black and eating people. Come on, Jeff. Can’t you do better than that? Or has your guilt thrown you over the edge?”

“Okay, honey,” Doug tried to stop her. Carrie was on a roll.

“No, no. I have to say this. I don’t care if his son hears. It needs to be said. Jeff, we think something’s wrong with you. We knew that the day our son died. I loved your grandmother. We all did. God bless her soul, but she sure did have one rotten grandkid.”

“You stop talking about my dad like that, you bitch!” Logan’s face looked angrier than Jeff had ever seen.

“Logan, no,” he pushed the boy back, digging his heels in the ice.

“Carrie,” Doug made another attempt at squelching her tirade, though Jeff got the feeling the man secretly wanted his wife to continue. He’d seen the way Doug looked at him on the road, passing in their pickups. He’d always wanted to make some sort of peace with the Mitchells. But the looks they’d give him. They seemed to see past him, through him. Maybe they were seeing Eddy.

“Just forget about it,” Jeff forced his son to turn around and made him take the lead out of there. “Just forget I ever came over.”

Carrie didn’t hesitate to respond. “You know what? We’d love to forget, but we can’t. Neither can you, Jeff. That’s why you’re here. You can’t take the guilt anymore. Your guilty conscious has conjured up this, this crazy monster so you can make up for our boy. Well you can’t make up for him! Ever!”

“Carrie. That’s enough.” Doug said.

“Come on,” Jeff prodded his boy. “Let’s get the hell outta here.”

They tore around the deck to the front yard, heading straight through the landscaping for the Ford, tripping over several random juniper bushes buried in the snow.

“Get in and let’s go!” Jeff reached his door first. Logan had to go around, hastening to the passenger side and flinging open the door. Jeff turned the key and cranked the engine as the boy hopped in the cab. When Logan pulled the door closed, something came out of the dark hedgerow along the driveway. Jeff’s blood iced over when a hand reached from the shadows and took hold of his son’s wrist.

“Wait a sec, guys,” Doug’s face became decipherable in the gloom. Cheeks red, lips chapped, he wore a charcoal gray robe, cinched tight against the frigid gale. “I wanted to tell you something,” he made eye contact with Jeff. “Carrie didn’t mean that stuff, okay? She’s just really emotional lately, because of Amy dating older boys and all. It’s been hard on both of us. Listen, I know we’ve been distant, and I’m sorry. That’s our fault. Really, it’s been all us.”

Jeff held up his hand, “No, Mr. Mitchell. I’ve had a lot to do with it, too.”

“Call me Doug, okay? And I appreciate that, but you know as well as I do we haven’t exactly been warm and inviting to you and your son,” he smiled at Logan. “We’d like to change that.”

“We’d like that, too,” Jeff shifted the pickup into reverse and held the brake. “Doug, I know you don’t believe me, but please, be careful. Watch the shadows. I swear something’s out there.”

Doug contorted his face. “So you’re not shitting me, here? No joke? You’re not just trying to pull a prank on your neighbors?”

“Trust me. This is no joke. I don’t pull pranks. Never have,” Jeff maintained a steady, serious stare. Doug backed away, looking at the ground near his feet.

“Uh, what did it look like again?”

“You do believe me, then, don’t you?”

Doug sighed loud enough for Jeff to hear over the Ford’s rattling tailpipe. “Kid, I don’t know what to believe,” he looked over his shoulder. “But I know one thing. You have me spooked.”

Jeff checked the rearview mirror. He eased his foot off the brake, letting the truck inch back. “Just be on the lookout, okay? If nothing else.”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Doug reached into his robe pocket and produced a sleek, silver flashlight. With a
click
, he had the beam pointed behind a young cypress. “Your little horror story’s gonna have me up all night. Thanks a lot, man.”

Jeff grinned. Not in a happy way. He drove past Doug and watched him in the mirror as the pickup pushed down the narrow driveway, through a white landscape, twinkling and flickering in subdued moonlight.

“Dad,” Logan broke his silence. “Can we
please
go home now?”

Jeff nodded. “Sure.”

FOUR-WHEELING THROUGH A MIDNIGHT blizzard, the Ford’s headlights hit something odd. Jeff squinted, then rubbed his eyes. He saw it again and slammed the brakes.

“Dad!” Logan pitched forward against the shoulder harness.

Jeff realized it was a person. A woman. Her strawberry blond hair matted and disheveled, she limped toward the truck, eyes glossy with horror. She lifted a forearm, shielding her rosy face. Jeff flicked it to the low beams. He saw blood on her hand. Her coat sleeve looked torn.

“It’s April!” Jeff ripped off his seatbelt. He pushed the door open and fell out, stumbling in the deep frost. He popped up and sprinted to the despondent young woman. He took April by the hand and asked her what happened as Logan, slipping the whole way, finally got to them.

“It killed him…that-that thing…killed him!” her chest heaved, her breath a thick fog about her face. “It ate him alive! Right in front of me!”

She fell forward. He opened his arms just in time to catch her against his chest. He stepped back, yet kept her upright. Several inches shorter, April didn’t weigh much, not compared to Jeff’s two hundred pounds.

“Just hold on,” his pulse began to build, a steady
Thump! Thump!
in his ears. “Slow down, slow down.”

“Jeff, he’s dead! That thing killed him!”

“You mean the black snow?
That
thing?” he looked at his son.

“Yeah!” she was still short of breath. “The thing that ate Dexter’s foot. It came back for more and it killed him.”

“Killed who?”

“The NWP guy! The guy that tried to kill me!”

“Wait!” he held her shoulders, staring into her tear-stained eyes. “What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean
he
tried to kill you? You mean the monster tried to kill you, right?”

“No, HE tried to kill me. Ran me off the road! My car flipped into a ditch and he tried to shoot me!”

“Whoa! No way!” Logan stepped closer. “Where?”

Sobbing, she indicated to the south. “Down there. Not far from here. Oh my god it was terrible! It crept up and trapped his feet! He looked like some kind of helpless animal! The blackness just digested him—it was disgusting!”

She pushed from him and bent over to heave. Nothing came out, still she heaved again. Jeff didn’t know what to do. He stood close, his hand hovering over her back.

“Are you gonna be okay, or should we take you to the hospital? I mean, you said he shot at you…are you hit at all.”

She coughed, then wiped her mouth and stood straight. “No,” she coughed again. “No. We need to call the police. We need to call the police right now.”

She bent over and heaved once more, letting out a loud moan.

“What’s wrong with her, Dad?”

“Just go in the house.”

“But Dad, I…”

“Get INSIDE!”

The boy lowered his head but kept his stare fixed on April, scanning her up and down.

“Logan!”

He trotted inside. Jeff shook his head.

“Jeff, it’s worse than we thought.”

FOURTEEN

DOUG MITCHELL SNAPPED HIS SIGHT to the darkest corner of the backyard, where an old pine tree swayed in the wind. Its complex silhouette mixed in countless shapes and subtle movements on the snowy ground, a shifting black web, becoming longer and thinner, then shorter and fatter. It gave him a chill despite the 103 degree water.

“You keep looking over there,” Carrie cracked an uneasy smile. “Your girlfriend hiding back there or something?”

He exhaled a half-hearted chuckle. “Yeah, right. She’s down there right now, freezing her ass off, waiting for you to get drunk and pass out. So hurry the hell up, will you?”

“Ha-ha. Very funny,” she peered at him sideways. “You know I’d kill you, right?”

He went back to watching the ever-changing shadows in the yard.

“Stop looking down there, dammit! You’re freaking me out!”

“I can’t help it. Jeff got me thinking.”

She splashed water at him. “Don’t tell me you believe what that deranged maniac had to say.”

“I don’t know,” he looked over her shoulder, thinking he saw a change in the background, darkness within darkness.

“What do you mean you don’t know? What is there to know? He’s mentally ill. That’s all there is to it. I don’t want to hear any more about it, okay? We’ve got the house to ourselves for the night. Let’s have some fun, babe.”

She tried sidling next to him, but in her drunken state, slipped on the floor of the tub. Waves crested over the side, washing away another candle. He grunted when she landed on him, their naked bodies slapping together. He felt her hands run down his chest and belly to his crotch where she clasped his dick like an expert. He took pride in how quickly he could become aroused. Even at his age, the old Johnson fired up on the first try. His wife had something to do with it. Despite pushing fifty and popping out five babies, she still had what he considered an incredibly sensuous body. She might not have been one of those anorexic, model types, but she had a sexy, full figure. And she knew how to give a handjob, too.

“Isn’t this a lot better than worrying about some silly snow monster?”

She swept her tongue down his chest. He rolled his eyes to the top of his skull and sighed up at the tinted Plexiglas skylights.

A dark finger slid across the roof, casting a thin shadow, running the width of the small outbuilding. He blinked. Had to be something in his eye. Another narrow, black band stretched across. He jerked, sitting up and pushing his wife with his knees. She slipped backward, hitting her head on the opposite side of the tub. The water sloshed in a quick surge.

She coughed, her hair dripping. “Damn it! That hurt!”

“You all right, honey? Damn, I didn’t mean to do that, I just—”

“You what? You don’t want to fool around? Is that it? You don’t think I’m sexy anymore?”

“No, no, no. That’s not it. I mean, yes. I do think you’re attractive—more than attractive. It’s just,” he looked up. No sign of the thin, black strings.

Carrie grumbled. “What’s going on?”

He chuckled nervously. “Damnest thing, really. I thought I just saw…oh, never mind.”

“Never mind? You kicked me! What the hell are you doing, Doug? I want to know!”

“I thought I saw something on the gazebo,” he pointed to the roof.

“What do you mean, some kind of bug or something? A spider? My big, strong man’s afraid of a spider?”

“Of course it wasn’t a spider. It was some kind of…shadow. Scared the hell out of me.”

She squinted. “Don’t start this shit. There are so many other things I’d rather be doing right now,” she leaned and kissed him, pushing her tongue in his mouth.

“Huh,” he smacked his lips when she released him. “Maybe I let my imagination run wild,” he checked the gazebo one more time, then put his head against hers. “I don’t know. Jeff sure was convincing. The way he described that…whatever it was he saw.”

“Whatever it was he
said
he saw,” she sighed. “Big difference. Now let’s stop talking about that. Too many memories,” she pressed a button on the stereo. A saxophone played a lazy, sensuous tune. She turned to him again, her eyes low and narrow, signaling him to come to her. He lifted one corner of his mouth, then the other, grinning wide.

“It must have been a tree branch. Can you believe that? You’re right. He’s got me all worked up and spooked over nothing.”

She slid through the water and pressed her finger to his lips. “Shhh.”

As they came together, he detected the slightest movement outside along the deck railing. Carrie had her hands on the sides of his face and they locked in a kiss, so he couldn’t see much, only a rippling motion near the stairway. Then it reached for the side of the gazebo. He didn’t want to get trapped in the same paranoid thinking as before. He knew Jeff’s story had crazy written all over it. Still, the shadows seemed strange, out of place, forming in odd, unnatural directions.

Then it shot toward the hot tub, a slender tip speeding out of sight below. He flinched, pushing his wife aside once more. She had the prescience to catch herself this time. That didn’t stop her from losing her temper.

“Fuck, Doug! That does it, I’m outta here!”

She gathered her towel, stood up, and wrapped herself. Focusing his attention through the window, he barely noticed her.

“It’s out there,” he moved his head side-to-side. The candle glare hindered his vision. He snuffed as many out as he could.

“I can’t believe this. Now he’s turned
you
into a psycho. Great. What next?” she picked up a bottle and swilled the last gulp. “Goodnight!”

“Don’t step out of the hot tub!” Doug slipped, reaching for her. She pushed, but he held her and forced her to stay in. He’d seen it, in the snow, coming toward them, using the shade as cover. “Oh shit! Oh SHIT!” he blew out the rest of the candles and twisted in the other direction, hoping to get a better look.

“Damn it, Doug! Let me go! This isn’t funny!”

“I’m not kidding, Carrie. Jeff was right. Something’s out there. It’s on the deck right now.”

“Right now, huh? On the deck?”

He breathed strong and quick, looking into her eyes. “Yes. It’s out there. I swear.”

She responded with her own serious face. “Then show me.”

Trembling, he pointed to a deep, dark area behind two snow-covered square planters. She laughed.

“What the hell? A shadow? You gotta be kidding me. I mean, seriously. Really, if you thought you’d scare me with that, then you still don’t know me after thirty years.”

He peered harder, certain the thing was out there somewhere. The overhead floodlights on the second story covered most of the back patio, creating sharp areas of contrast where they didn’t penetrate. Each one of the poorly lit areas was suspect, but in none of them did he find what he’d seen only seconds earlier. No irregularities. No long, black tentacles projecting like fingers. Aside from the heavy snow accumulation, everything seemed normal.

“I saw something, Carrie. I swear I did. It’s out there. I don’t know what the hell it is, but I saw it.”

She let her towel slip off, laying it on the tub’s edge. Part of it soaked in the water. “If this is your way of trying to get me excited, it worked. Just knock it off already and get over here.”

He disregarded his wife’s nude invitation.

“That’s it,” she flung her towel around her chest. “I’m done. See you inside.”

She stepped out of the spa and slipped her flip flops on her feet. She looked at him one last time. “You can stay out here with your damned monsters. A twelve-year-old. That’s what I’ve got. Another kid.”

“Get back in here!” he held out his hand.

“No! You’ve never been able to tell me what to do. What makes you think you can start now?”

“Come on, Carrie!” he searched the snow. “I’m not fucking around, here. Now, please, just get back in the tub. For me, please.”

She shook her head, glaring. “You really think I’ll fall for it a second time. This isn’t funny at all.”

She walked around the gazebo, disappearing behind the corner.

“Carrie, NO!” he splashed to the edge, pushing his head out the open door. He heard a noise somewhere outside. Cracking, grinding. The wind shifted, bringing a sour smell. It turned his stomach, burning his nasal passageways, dulling his brain. He coughed hard, gasping for unpolluted air.

A frantic shriek sent sharp, frosty needles under his skin. He only had time to watch Carrie slide by on her back, surrounded by what looked like an oil slick in the snow. Only this stuff looked alive, with swaying edges, a rippling and bubbling surface, and long, flexible limbs, flickering like snakes tongues.

Crying, she reached her hand. He shot out of the tub and snatched it. He stared into her eyes. Pure dread. Her mouth dropped open. Gurgling from the back of her throat, she spit up some blood and looked at it. Her horror deepened.

“Don’t you let me go,” her voice sounded weak and thin. “You hear me, don’t let go!”

As she inched further below the surface, the part of her body above the black pool convulsed. His stomach twisted, exposing its disdain for the wretched smell. Charbroiled feces and burnt bone. He imagined the stink of hell. This had to be it.

“Carrie! Hold on!” his fists became iron clamps around her fingers. “I’ll get you out!”

He steadied his weight and pulled, but had no leverage sitting naked in the slippery tub. So instead of dragging her toward him, he heaved himself toward her. Toward the creature.

His skin felt hot when it came near the black snow. He could see the soft tissue in Carrie’s ankles. Bright red muscle, pearly white tendons. The strangest thing, though. Besides what she’d already coughed up, he saw no blood. It seemed to coagulate on contact with the thing’s digestive juices.

Breathlessly, she spoke once more. “Doug, don’t let me die…please…”

His body flushed with anxious energy. He anchored in the spa, leaning his full weight, hooking his arms over the edge. One hard tug and she came out of the blackness. Only a little, though. She made her agony plain with a sickening moan. He examined her and gagged. Her legs below the knees had disappeared, her ankles shrunken to mere sticks, protruding bones the color of charcoal.

Shivering, wincing, he tried to drive the nightmare aside. But he knew it had to be real. All too real. His wife had been attacked, and he needed to do anything and everything he could to stop it.

He saw her life slipping away. The color in her brown eyes turned hazy, and her pupils drifted to some faraway place. Her throat gurgled again. Frothy blood surfaced on her lips. He held tight as her body lurched hard, pulling him onto the frozen ground. He felt her slipping out of his grip and screamed at her to hold on. She seemed to have nothing left, no strength, no will. He wouldn’t give up. He stood, unclothed, and watched the blackness drag Carrie to the stairs. Her eyes opened wide and she started breathing once more, coughing and spitting. She fixated on Doug.

“Help me! Please!”

Just like that, the monster swept her down the steps, across the lawn, and into a group of young pines. Without covering himself, he sprinted in pursuit. His feet felt on fire in the deep freeze. After a few more paces, they turned numb, as well as the rest of his body. He didn’t care if his balls froze off. Finding Carrie. That’s all he cared about.

He followed the trail in the snow to the grove of Douglas-firs which marked the edge of the driveway. There the tracks stopped cold. He stopped, too, thinking he’d been lured into a trap. Then Carrie’s muffled cries made him even more frenzied.

He pushed aside a series of low-lying branches, heavy with white powder. She had to be close. Under the trees, he got on his knees and scooped handful after handful, convinced he’d find her. He dug until he scratched dirt and snapped off a fingernail, leaving a speckled trail of blood. The searing pain didn’t slow him. Neither did the deep permafrost. He forced his fingers into the earth, knowing she was there.

“Carrie! CARRIE!” he pounded at the ground, feeling his strength slipping away as the cold swelled his joints, making it almost impossible to flex his fingers or move his arms. Then he heard something above him. He stood quickly, thinking Carrie might have escaped into the branches.

He looked up. Near the trunk he saw what he thought was her face, but something about her disturbed him. The look. The expression. She seemed gone.

“NO!” he jumped and caught a limb. He couldn’t let the love of his life die alone, in the cold dark of night. He tried to pull himself up, but the branch snapped clean, dropping him into the deepfreeze.
Humph!
he landed on his butt, driving the air from his lungs. Gasping, he stood again, resolved to reach Carrie.

He heard soft clicking, smacking, then more clicking.

“Carrie?” his throat was scratchy. “Is that you? Baby, hold on! I’m coming to get you!”

The tree rocked, sending down a shower of snow.

“Doug,” a faint call from above pushed shivers through his dulled nervous system. “Doug, is that-is that you?”

“Carrie!” he cleared his throat. “Carrie! Where are you!”

Silence. The low rumble of the winter storm blowing through the forest. Doug stretched his neck, looking for his one and only, the only girl he’d ever truly loved. His high school sweetheart.