Side note: this is just my personal opinion, but if you’re looking for a soulmate, you’re probably not going to find him or her at a local dive bar; and especially avoid the ones drunk off their asses, belting “Ironic” by Alanis Morissette at the top of their lungs.
That same year I started dating a woman named Cherry. We got pretty cozy, too. Not “I love you” cozy, but she brought up the idea of getting a dog together. I can thank Stone for that relationship ending. He convinced me getting a dog was somehow one step below marriage. Me being the idiot I am, relayed this to Sharon, who promptly called me an dick and dumped my ass. Never got that dog, though, and I always wanted one. I begged my father when I was a kid, but he claimed he was allergic, and that was that.
Oh yeah, and there was this girl I was dating around the time of the apartment fire, but after the dead boy and all the depression and terrible feelings that came with seeing such horrors, this girl “ghosted” me, as Stone calls it, and I made no effort to reconcile.
Conclusion: I haven’t been in love, and I’ve never been much good at maintaining relationships. I’d say it was because no girl made me feel, you know, that way.
With Eleanor, it was different. I felt like I could really be myself around her. I could be the real Grady.
I felt that way.
I just didn’t know if she felt the same.
In the freezing back room, we played Rummy 500, a game my grandma taught me many years ago. Stone already knew how to play it, thanks to me, and Eleanor had heard of it before, but the version she knew was slightly different than the one I knew.
The flashlight stood upright in the middle of the floor, its beam piercing the ceiling and keeping the harmless shadows back. Next to it were a few packages of Duracell D batteries. Though I had seen a flashlight turn away the giant shadow spider the time of our trek across the lake, I couldn’t say with total certainty that the light did anything more to the wraiths than that. It’s only human to want to avoid the darkness. If burning through a bunch of batteries meant keeping our lives and our sanity, then I had no problem doing it.
The time flew by. We talked and laughed and shared stories of the past like old folks reminiscing on the good ol’ days. Those were the days where snow only came during the winter months, and monsters were imaginary.
When the sun didn’t show like it should have (according to my notes), I became a little more worried than usual. We’d been in the store for close to four hours, going on five.
“Looks like we’re staying the night,” Stone said. He was sitting against what was left of the boxes in the back room with his arms crossed over his chest, hugging himself tightly. His teeth were chattering. It was getting colder.
Eleanor had huddled next to me. Her gloved hands shuffled the cards anxiously. “I don’t wanna spend the night here,” she said. “Mikey is probably going crazy.” She paused, her bottom lip quivered. “I’m—I’m all he’s got left.”
“It’ll be okay,” I said.
“What if he comes looking for us? He’ll get himself killed,” Eleanor said, mostly to herself.
“Kinda like how we came looking for Grady?” Stone said. “Eh, I mean, if I’d risk death for this clown, it’s possible.”
I gave Eleanor’s forearm a reassuring squeeze and glared at Stone.
“He won’t, Ell, don’t worry. And we’ll be back soon enough,” I said.
But I didn’t know that for sure; I didn’t know when we’d be back, and I didn’t know what Mikey’s plans were. He was still a mystery to me. Once you hit your mid-twenties, I think you automatically forget what it’s like to be a teenager, including how they think. Sometimes Mikey seemed like the sweetest guy in the world, a loving brother and a good friend; other times…not so much. He was prone to violent outbursts, which were understandable considering what had happened, and sulking in his room for days at a time.
In truth, Mikey worried me.
Eleanor cleared her throat. “I hope not. He’s all I’ve got, too.”
The sound of her voice was enough to break my heart. I wanted to hug her, pull her close, kiss her, and tell her with one-hundred percent certainty that it was going to be okay, and I couldn’t. Instead, I took the cards from her hands and began dealing them out.
“Let’s go again.”
Sleep didn’t come easily that night, but that was nothing new. I was used to feeling constantly drained. Eventually, however, I found myself dozing on the cold floor in between Stone and Eleanor. We were huddled together for warmth, our heavy winter coats rustling loudly in the stillness of the back room whenever one of us shifted the slightest bit. Our combined body heat wasn’t much against the brutal cold, but it helped. Without each other, I think there was a good chance we would’ve probably frozen to death. Maybe that’s just me being dramatic, I don’t know, but it was cold.
The one positive thing we had going for us was the wraiths hadn’t known we were here, and that meant they left us alone. No one called our names, and though I never peered outside, I doubted I’d see Jonas standing in the parking lot wearing the same clothes he died in, waving me toward him. I wouldn’t see the burning boy I failed to save a few months ago, either. For all the monsters knew, we were back at Helga’s house on the lake.
Despite all the bad, when I fell asleep, I must’ve fallen hard. Whether I was dreaming or not, I’m not sure. It’s hard to have nightmares when you’re living in one.
It didn’t matter, really, because I was awakened so abruptly that whatever had been on my unconscious mind would’ve been wiped away in an instant.
Eleanor screamed and writhed away from me. I shot up to my knees and reached for the flashlight, but in my haste and because of my numb hands, I dropped it before I could aim the beam at Eleanor. It hit the concrete floor, shattered, and the light went out. There was a flash, and then total blackness.
“What the hell?” Stone yelled. I heard him roll away and grab his crutches. A few seconds later, he was standing on my right, shoulder to shoulder with me. He got to his feet quicker than I thought possible given his handicap.
But where was Eleanor? I stuck my hands out for her and grabbed nothing but air. “Ell? What’s wrong?”
She spoke from somewhere to my right. Her voice was barely audible. “I saw something. I think it was a rat.”
That eased my worry.
Stone chuckled. “Damn, girl, you can’t be doing that. You almost gave me a heart attack. I thought one of those shadow bastards got in here with us.”
“Or a crazy,” I added.
“Hey, I still got another ski pole. I’m not worried about them. I’m worried about the things I can’t stab.”
I nodded, but he didn’t see me. “Good point.”
“No,” Eleanor said a little more loudly now, “you guys don’t understand. I hate rats.”
“They’re not that bad.” Stone said.
“I can’t sleep in here if there’s rats,” Eleanor said. “It has to go. One of you guys have to get it out.”
My eyes had adjusted to the dark. I saw Stone shake his head, and as he did, the hood of his coat made a swish-swish sound. “Not a chance. I ain’t touching anything that crawls around in the sewers,” he said. “Didn’t the Black Plague come from rats or some shit?”
“Yeah, I think so,” I said. “But what happened to ‘They’re not that bad’?”
Stone gave me the finger. “It’s gonna be a hell no for me, sorry.” He patted me on the shoulder. “Looks like Grady’s your knight in shining armor tonight, Eleanor. Again, sorry.”
I chuckled awkwardly. Me, a knight in shining armor? I reminded myself to punch Stone when Eleanor wasn’t looking.
“You know,” Stone said, “for some reason, I know a bunch of odd facts about rats—”
“We don’t wanna hear them,” I interrupted.
Stone went on anyway. He held a hand up and started counting off the fun facts on his fingers. “Their teeth never stop growing, which is why they can chew t
hrough everything from cinder blocks to lead pipes. They’re hella good swimmers. So yeah, they can definitely swim up your toilet. Fun fact number three: a group of them is called a ‘mischief.’ No joke. Not as cool as a group of crows, which is called a ‘murder,’ but could be worse. They also eat their own feces for the nutritional benefits. Who woulda thunk? If we ever run out of food…”
Eleanor edged closer to me, leaned against the shelves at our backs, and picked her feet up from the floor. “Stone, you’re gonna make me puke.”
“Me, too,” I said. Climbing up on the shelves seemed like a pretty good idea. Or finding the nearest toilet in this joint.
“Okay, okay, just one more. I promise this one isn’t gross. It’ll make you smile.” Stone said.
“No!” Eleanor and I both said.
But Stone was determined to torment us. “Okay, get this…rats have belly buttons. How cool is that! Innies or outies, I’m not sure, but it’s sweet, huh?”
An image of a rat with a human belly button popped in my head. It was revolting, but also somewhat comical. I found myself laughing. Soon after, Eleanor was laughing, too.
Stone said, “Told ya! Hey, maybe we should catch the little guy and see for ourselves.”
“How’d you like it if some giant furless thing caught you and made you show them your belly button?” Eleanor said.
Stone nodded his head from side to side. “I certainly wouldn’t put up much of a fight, that’s for sure. If they wanna see my belly button, then they can see my belly button. But if they wanna see my…naughty parts, then they at least gotta buy me a drink first.”
I cracked up this time. Stone was too much, man.
Eleanor was laughing, too, bent over and clutching her stomach. “Jesus Christ, Stone, your naughty parts?”
“Hey, don’t judge me now.”
I raised my hands, palms out. “We’re not judging, just…okay, yeah, we’re totally judging you.”
“Tsk, tsk, Grady,” he said.
“Please don’t catch the rat and show us its belly button, Stone,” Ell said. “Please.”
“No promises.”
We needed this, I knew that, but once we all calmed down and went back to normal, I got to work. Being the dumbass I am, I had broken the flashlight and knew I’d need another—not only to survive, but to catch the rat. Even a lighter would work, though that lacked in the convenience department.
As I turned to head out, Eleanor grabbed my shoulder, bunching the swishy material of my coat in a death grip. “Where are you going? Don’t leave me in here with the guy who wants to see rat belly buttons.” She shot Stone a glance that said she may or may not be joking.
“I’ll be back in a second. Think I saw another flashlight by the register earlier.” She didn’t let go. “Unless, Ell, you wanna come out there with me?”
She looked down at her dangling feet and furrowed her brow as she weighed her options. Finally, her hand relaxed and smoothed out the wrinkled patch on my coat.
“No, no, I guess I’ll stay. But hurry. You’re my knight in shining armor, remember?”
Stone snorted at this comment.
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, okay, I see how it is. You guys came back for me because you’d have no one to make fun of if I died.”
Stone was smiling. “Well of course not, Grady.”
“In all seriousness,” Eleanor said, “I won’t be able to go back to sleep if there’s a rat running around.”
“I agree with Ell on that front,” Stone said. “Be my knight in shining armor, too, Grady. I need my beauty rest!”
I flipped Stone the bird, who lovingly flipped it right back. Then to Eleanor, I said, “I’m sure the rat’s just as scared of us as we are of it.”
That was something my grandma always used to say. She lived out in the country, so she was pretty familiar with all sorts of critters breaking into her farmhouse. One winter, when an influx—I’m sorry, a mischief—of rats took up residence in her basement, she entertained the thought of hiring an exterminator. My dad told her to just get a cat. Grandma, not really a cat person, surprisingly took my father up on his advice. I went with her the day she adopted an orange tabby with a missing eye. His name was Chester, but he didn’t respond to it, so I accidentally gave him a different name. On the ride home, which was pretty long since my grandma lived out in the middle of nowhere, I said we should get the cat an eye patch, the kind a pirate wears. My ol’ granny thought that was hilarious, and because of that, the name “Patches” was bestowed on the tabby.
Sure enough, when she let Patches loose in the house, the rats disappeared and never came back. A couple of them turned up on my grandma’s welcome rug and pillow, too…
Patches shortly became my grandma’s best friend. He was with her to the very end. After she passed, he went a few months later. He wasn’t very old, but he was brokenhearted and lost. He stopped eating and drinking. Barely moved. My dad and I took him to three different vets, who all ran tests and found nothing. Antibiotics worked for a bit, but when he was through with them, he eventually started going downhill. In truth, the poor cat was suffering, so we opted for euthanasia. I don’t know if you’ve ever had to do that, but it’s one of the hardest things I’ve had to see. Just thinking of Patches on that cold steel examination table makes me tear up.
But it’s true; a broken heart can take even the best of us.
If there’s an afterlife, I like to think they’ve found each other. I like to picture my mother petting him while my grandma tells one of her hilarious stories.
“The rat’s just as scared of us?” Eleanor said. “I don’t know about that. I’m kinda terrified of rats…”
“You’ll feel better once we get some light in here.” I crossed the back room and eased the door open to the front. I eased it because I was slightly afraid of rats, too. Yeah, I’ll admit it. Stone pretty much hit it right on the head: never mess with a thing that crawls around the sewers, belly buttons or not.
I stepped over the threshold and immediately froze. I was looking ahead, at the door, which was no longer barricaded. There was a crack large enough for someone to slip through. I ripped the gun from my pocket and aimed it in front of me. Had another crazy person come for us? Was it the wraiths?
I got my answer soon enough. All I had to do was look down.
4
Rats
I wished my eyes had never adjusted to the darkness.
They covered the floor, all of them writhing and climbing over one another. They were mostly hairless, their flesh a sickening shade of pink. From their mouths, a chittering-squeaking sound leaked out around their long teeth—teeth that could apparently chew through concrete and lead pipes.
I would’ve yelled, but my voice was gone.
Rats. Tons of them.
I stepped backwards toward the door, nearly tripping over my feet. I stumbled, hit the jamb with a loud clatter. All at once the legion of rodents turned their eyes toward me. Their eyes glowed a muted, dull red.
They weren’t real. They were the wraiths.
I moved and fell through the door, onto my ass in the backroom.
“What the fuck?” Stone shouted.
My lips worked, but words weren’t coming out. All that came out were airy gasps.
Eleanor looked on in utter horror. Her hands came up to her cheeks, and her fingernails raked down her smooth skin. Tears began to fall again.
“What is it?” Stone demanded. He dropped a crutch, which fell to the floor next to me, making a loud sound in the relative silence of the room, then picked me up with a strong arm. He did it as easily as if I weighed nothing.
“Rats,” I finally answered.
Stone limped to the door, and as he reached to push it open, he turned back and said, “Don’t fuck with us, Grady. I’ll kick your ass. You know I can.”
“He’s not lying,” Eleanor said. “Shh, listen.”
We went quiet, but all I could hear was the thunder of my heartbeat in my temples.
“What the fuck is that?” Stone said after a moment. “Something’s moving out there. Is it another crazy person?”
“That doesn’t sound human…” Eleanor said.
“Rats!” I repeated, this time louder and with more confidence. “But they’re not real… It’s them. It’s the wraiths.”
“How many?” Stone picked up his other crutch and held it like a weapon.
I shook my head. “Dozens.”
“We have to get out of here,” Eleanor said. She was shaking violently. I walked over to her and put my arm around her waist. She relaxed a bit and buried her head on my chest.
“We can’t go outside,” Stone said. “The sun’s not out, but you can bet your ass the shadows are.”
“He’s right,” I agreed. I was starting to gain some of my composure back. Having Eleanor in my arms helped. It reminded me that I had bigger things to worry about than myself.
“Boxes,” Stone said, pointing with his crutch. “We can barricade the door until they leave.”
“They’re rats,” I said. “They can chew through anything. You said so yourself.”
“Fuck!”
Eleanor spoke in a voice of cold confidence neither of us were expecting. “We have to fight. If we don’t fight, we’re dead.”
Stone was shaking his head, his eyes darting all around. I knew that reaction. His mind was running a million miles an hour as he looked for a solution. “Well, that’s gonna be kinda hard, isn’t it? You know, because Grady broke the flashlight.”
“There’s another in the front,” I said.
“That’s all well and good, Grady, but how do you suppose we’re gonna get the damn thing? If one of those rats touches us, we’re done for.”
I took a deep breath, steadied myself. “Well, we just don’t let them touch us.”
Whiteout (Book 2): The Dark Winter Page 4