Blizzard of Souls

by Michael McBride

  “And even then, how hard was it for us to climb up onto the mountain to get that wood?” Mare added. “All they’d need to do is scurry up it from the other side and drop right down on our heads.”

  Adam looked at Phoenix, who answered his unspoken question with a shrug.

  “Anyone have a better idea?” Adam asked. “We can’t just allow them a free run at us.”

  “No,” Norman said. “That’s exactly what we need to do.”

  “You’re out of your mind,” Missy said, shaking her head. “What chance do we have against these things? We’ll be slaughtered.”

  “We all agree that by blocking off the road they would only have to go over the mountain to circumvent our blockade, right?”

  “Yeah, but we can’t just not try to block off the entrance,” Mare said. “They’d just come pouring right through.”

  “I’m not suggesting we don’t build a barricade,” Norman said, allowing a sly half-smile to creep up his cheek.

  Adam finally understood. “We want them to know they can’t break through our barrier and come over the mountain instead. They’ll think they have the upper hand.”

  “Bingo,” Norman said.

  “Why would we want them to come over the mountain?” Mare asked. “All that would do is buy us a few more minutes to dread dying.”

  “I don’t know about you, but I don’t intend to die out here,” Adam said. “We want them to come over the mountain if they attack from across the salt flats. They’ll have to get down off the cliff above us, right?”

  “You’re proposing an ambush,” Evelyn said.

  “They’ll know we’ll be waiting for them,” Darren said. “If we’re really lucky we might be able to kill a handful at most.”

  “Heck, no,” Norman said. “We can’t try to engage them. There’s no way we could beat them in a fight. We need to outthink them. They’ll come flying off the edge of the cliff knowing that with their superior numbers they’ll be able to overwhelm us, but the surprise will be on them.”

  Norman rose from beside the fire and walked to the enormous pile of long sticks, raising one and planting it on the ground so that the tip pointed straight up into the air.

  “So they’ll think we’re waiting down below to fight,” Evelyn said, “but instead—”

  “They’ll be shish-ka-bobbed,” Mare said with a grin.

  “Exactly,” Norman said.

  “So where will we be?” Lindsay asked.

  “Some of us will have to stay on the beach,” Jill said, recalling her vision. In her mind she could see the snow bank with the spears standing from it, but more disconcerting was the smell of cooking flesh wafting across the frozen lake from the stone island against the horizon. “They’ll need to be able to see us. They aren’t stupid. They’ll attack from across the lake as well.”

  “In what?” Ray asked. “Boats? Or are they going to swim?”

  “No,” Jill said. “They’ll cross the lake on the ice.”

  “Ice? A natural body of water this large isn’t about to freeze solid anytime soon.”

  “It will,” Jill whispered, trapping his stare.

  “Lay off, Ray,” April said.

  Ray debated arguing, but decided to save his breath. While it sounded completely asinine, if Jill had seen this in one of her visions, then he wasn’t about to browbeat her with it.

  “In my vision, I saw myself standing out on the beach with a wall of snow at my back, staring out across the lake through the blizzard at that island. I could see a fire—or at least the smoke from a massive fire—across a sheet of ice buried beneath several feet of snow. I don’t know for sure what they were doing out there, but I could…smell people burning on the fire.”

  They all sat in silence for a moment. Some looked into the fire between them while others looked at anything else.

  “They will come under the Blizzard of Souls,” Phoenix said.

  Jill looked at him, blinking. “That’s what I was shown in the vision I had in the room up there where that woman was entombed. Alive. Is it possible that what’s outside right now is that storm?”

  “I don’t know,” Phoenix said. “We know they’re coming for us soon, so it definitely could be. It would be so much easier to tell if I could understand why it was called the Blizzard of Souls.”

  “Whether it is or not is irrelevant,” Adam said. “We need to get everything ready now. If they catch us unprepared, we’re as good as dead anyway.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Sunshine,” Evelyn said, standing and rubbing at a knot in her lower back. All of this sitting on rocks was beginning to take its toll. “On that cheery note, I suppose we should get to work.”

  “We haven’t even figured out where to begin yet,” Adam said.

  “Well, it’s not going to be in here, is it?” she said, casting Adam a wink before heading up the stone staircase.

  Adam just stared at her as she walked away.

  “You can close your mouth now,” Norman whispered into his ear, giving him a pat on the back.

  “Did she just put me in my place?”

  “Indeed she did, my friend. Quite nicely, too,” Norman said, offering Adam a hand.

  The others were already ascending the stone stairs, following Evelyn, who disappeared into the darkened tunnel leading toward the outside world. Adam brought up the rear, still mesmerized by the woman’s wink. It was strange to feel anything other than fear and a certain measure of desperation. What exactly was he feeling now anyway? Certainly she was an attractive woman, but was it possible to generate any sort of emotions under such duress? He didn’t have the time to occupy his mind with such thoughts. The others were counting on him not just to lead them, but to keep them all from getting killed. Maybe sleep deprivation was finally beginning to get the better of him. God, when was the last time he had actually closed his eyes long enough to—?

  He bumped into Norman from behind, barely able to see the other man’s silhouette in front of him. They were nearly to the cave by the beach as evidenced by the freezing wind that lanced right through him, tousling his hair with snowflakes.

  “How long were we down there?” Evelyn asked from somewhere ahead.

  “What is it?” Adam asked, standing on his toes to try to see over Norman’s shoulder.

  The procession slowly moved forward, each step bringing a dramatic drop in temperature. Adam could see only their cumulative breath around him like a fog. The dampness in his lips felt like it froze a heartbeat before they split, summoning just a swell of warmth that immediately chilled. By the time he passed out of the tunnel, the others were already huddled together in the mouth of the cave. The storm had intensified to the point that it looked like a sheet of snow in front of him, whipping from side to side at the behest of the screaming wind.

  “Jesus,” Mare said, wrapping his arms across his chest and stepping out of their protective enclave. The wind nearly drove him to his knees, causing him to stumble into snow that was nearly to the middle of his shins.

  “I’ve never seen anything like this,” Adam said. “Even growing up in Colorado, I never even heard of snow that got this deep so quickly.”

  The beach was barely visible as white contrasting the black water on the shoreline, which vanished from sight no more than a few feet out.

  “The Blizzard of Souls,” Phoenix whispered.

  “How can you be sure?” Adam asked, but the answer was obvious. Flirting in and out through the driving snow were ghostly eyes. Hundreds of them. Whiter even than the accumulation. The wind shifted with a shriek and he could see them…tall white birds standing in the snow with crowns of feathers like headdresses. As one they raised their golden beaks to the heavens and released a furious cry.

  When the wind shifted again, they were gone.

  VIII

  The Ruins of Denver, Colorado

  DEATH STOOD AGAIN AT THE EDGE OF THE ROOF, LOOKING OUT ACROSS THE vast wasteland. The briars had grown to the size of shrubs, nearly obscuring the t
orch-lined path. Soon enough the fires would run out of fuel, but it didn’t matter now. His army was more than large enough to make short work of the survivors. No amount of readiness would prepare them for the sheer enormity of his Swarm. They were outnumbered more than a hundred to one. Even as more stragglers joined his encampment, he simply directed them toward the mountains to join with their brethren. Let them butcher the last of humanity and then turn upon each other. Once the stain of man had been bled into the earth, the way would be paved for evolution to begin anew, though even he knew it was only a matter of time before another species assumed dominance and began the process of self-annihilation. Even were he capable of feeling pity, he wouldn’t have spared an ounce for these glorified apes who shunned the most precious gift that God could bestow. They had no concept of the sanctity of life.

  He would revel in their merciless slaughter.

  Closing his eyes, Death urged his mind to take flight. When he opened them again, he was standing at the edge of a great valley of snow. The sun was beginning its descent above the horizon, a mere circle of weak light through the thick storm. Down the steep, pine-infested slope, mountains gave way to foothills, which in turn succumbed to a flat sheet of white that extended from the edge of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains in western Colorado to the border of Utah where another distant mountain range stood like tombstones. By the end of the coming night, his forces would be in those mountains. The following night they would lay siege to their prey. When the sun rose again on the following morning, two days from now, the world would be bereft of the destructive urges of man, free to begin the process of healing. There were a handful that the Almighty had singled out to take a stand against him, though. A dozen-plus-one who it would pain Him to eliminate, but Death would do so without reservation. He was God’s chosen son, and as such he would carry out his Father’s wishes.

  Through War’s eyes he turned from the western horizon and back to the east. Thunder dropped to its front knees, blasting twin plumes of fire from its skeletal nostrils, sensing Death within its master. He favored it with a glance, the deep snow melting away from its elongated snout.

  He stomped down the slope from just above timberline to where the dense pine and juniper forests encroached upon the rocky hillside. The ambitious snowflakes had nearly filled the tracks of his minions, who were hidden from sight. It was as though he stood all alone in the middle of the forest, miles from the nearest living entity. Until he looked up…

  They filled the trees, packed close to the trunks and shielded from the sunlight by the thick branches beneath a burial of snow. With claws latched into the pulp, seething with amber blood, they clung however they could. Upside down, right side up. Hanging from branches and crumpled into the nooks. Black scales and hardened metal, the occasional yellow crescent of an eye opening to salute his presence before hurriedly closing. Dewlaps drawn tightly against their necks, they blended into the shadows so well that if he hadn’t instinctively known they were there, he might never have seen them.

  Death looked down the slope, sensing that nearly every tree within his field of vision was filled with his armada. Closing his eyes again, he left War to watch over the sun slinking behind the clouds to the west and again found himself atop the black skyscraper with the snow swirling around him. The wind battering him from all sides at once, he turned and stormed back into the tower to observe his own preparations for the future…just in case the softness he sensed in the Lord, this momentary sentimentality He felt for His wayward children proved to be His Achilles heel.

  Death knew he had been summoned for this one purpose, and be it his Master’s ultimate will or not, he would answer the calling and wipe every trace of Homo sapiens from the face of the planet. And perhaps this time, he would be able to claim what was left.

  Chapter 4

  I

  Northern Iran

  GRAY STOOD ON THE LOADING DOCK AT THE HOME DEPOT WAREHOUSE, trying to see the hotel through the blizzard. The tracks they’d laid on their way in were already filled with snow, leaving only the faint impression that they’d ever been there at all. He wished he could talk to Carrie, just to make sure that everything was all right. It made him paranoid even thinking about what he was preparing to attempt with all of the talk of dreams and visions. Was it possible that his thoughts weren’t even safe? He knew that Richard wasn’t the kind of man you wanted to cross, but he didn’t know to what lengths the man would be willing to go to stop him.

  God, if he’d done anything to endanger Carrie…

  There was no doubt in his mind that he needed to get the woman and her child out of there, but still he was terrified of the consequences. Carrie was his love and his life, the woman he’d sworn to lay his own life down to protect. He’d made no such vow to that lady and her kid. He could just grab his wife and get the hell out of there. No looking back. Just load her up in the camper and drive off into the storm. No one would come looking for them. They could settle anywhere in the world. Maybe way down south on a beach in Aruba where it was warm and there was no snow or threat of attack—

  It’s okay, the boy’s small voice repeated in his mind.

  But it wasn’t. If he left them there, Lord only knew what Richard might do to keep them all to himself and his secret safe. The man was a power monger. If he was using this kid’s visions to make the others tow his line, then losing the child would threaten the entire foundation of his burgeoning rule. And if he and Carrie screwed up, he knew an example would be made of them. It would be the opportunity Richard was waiting for to flex his empirical muscles. The people followed him because of the dreams he claimed to have, but fear was a far better tool. Give him both and Richard’s reign would be unquestioned, his power unopposed. And that had been the whole cause of their problems. The source of the evil that had given rise to weapons of mass destruction had placed them in the hands of men like Richard who just couldn’t wait to use them.

  “Truck’s loaded to the gills,” a man said from behind Gray, nearly causing him to jump.

  Gray turned and nodded, his heart beating so fast that he was unable to speak. His first thought had been of his shotgun, but it had already been requisitioned by the recently designated Chief of Security.

  “You okay?” the man asked. He was burly, but affable, a bald man whose smile was at odds with the prison-green tattoo of a coiled snake on his neck. “We got the whole trailer packed with enough wood to build another hotel around ours and enough PVC to plumb it.”

  “What about the barbed wire?”

  “Left on the first truck. They should already be stringing it by now.”

  “And the generators?”

  “Man, you worry too much. Just ‘cause they put you in charge don’t mean the rest of us are stupid.”

  “I’m sorry, I—”

  The bald man laughed. “Heck, bro. I was just messin’ with you. I’ll grab you a beer when we get back. You got to learn to relax a little. After all, it ain’t the end of the world.”

  Gray forced a smile.

  “That’s better, m’man. Now let’s get back inside before we start pissin’ icicles.”

  Nodding, Gray walked around to the front of the cab and climbed up. There was a rumble as the other man dragged down the trailer gate. He appeared through the passenger door and hopped up beside him.

  “Heck of a storm,” the man said, watching the windshield wipers drag arcs through the snow as they rolled out. There had been many trucks on the lot, but the majority hadn’t worked. For whatever reason, only the older trucks that hardly looked roadworthy would even start. One of the other men had said something about an electromagnetic pulse knocking out any equipment that ran on computer chips, which did make a fair amount of sense. The camper in which they’d crossed the country was a relic itself, and, come to think of it, every other vehicle they’d come in with had been ancient. It made him wonder if trying to set up the generators would be a complete waste of time. They’d probably be better off sitting in a cave a
round a fire.

  Gray laughed at the thought.

  “What’s so funny?” the man in the passenger seat asked as they slowed to approach the gate that would grant them access to the hotel parking lot.

  “Everything.”

  “That’s the spirit,” the man said with a chuckle. “Name’s Oscar. Oscar Dominguez.”

  “Gray Ciccerelli.” He offered his hand across the console and Oscar shook it firmly.

  Gray recognized his shotgun pointed at them through the iron gate. The man in the Army gear held it leveled at them through the front windshield. It seemed astoundingly excessive. If they’d wanted to get through the gate badly enough, Gray could have just pinned the gas and plowed right through. The man on the other side of the gate knew that too. It was merely a demonstration of power and authority meant to both intimidate and inspire a sense of subservience and security.

  Peckham lowered the shotgun from Gray’s face and unlocked the gate, drawing it back through the snow and ushering them past. Everyone turned from their posts to watch the semi pull into the parking lot. A dozen men lined the fence, standing atop chairs from the lobby, coiling barbed wire over the horizontal rail of the fence so tightly that it looked impossible to climb over without flaying oneself. He didn’t know how long they’d been out there in the gloves and parkas they’d obviously only recently procured, but they were nearly finished stringing the entire front of the property and had already moved around to the far side of the building.

  Gray was startled by tapping on the driver’s side window and turned to see Peckham preparing to rap again with the barrel of the shotgun. The soldier mimed for him to roll down the window.

  “You’ve got to be freezing out there,” Gray said, doing as he was instructed.

  “Any more trucks in your caravan?” Peckham asked.

  “Nope. We’re the last.”

  “What’s your cargo?”

  “We’ve got about a million two-by-fours and a ton of PVC piping.”