by Tobias Wade
“No,” I screamed, pounding the glass.
“Go!” Brandon yelled. They were closing in—just a few feet from him, now. “Drive!”
I shook my head.
“Nicole, please!” One of the men grabbed him by the shoulders, and pulled him towards the darkness. A few more paced towards the car, their jack o’lanterns floating inches from the window.
No—not jack o’lanterns.
Or, at least—
Not the kind made out of pumpkins.
“Drive!” Brandon screamed, as they pulled him into the forest.
I jumped into the driver’s seat, and put my foot to the floor.
***
We buried an empty casket.
They never found the body. And sometimes I think it’s better that way. Something tells me that the body wouldn’t have been… recognizable. And seeing the man I love, broken up like that, would break my heart all over again.
And if he’s still alive…
Well, that means he became one of them.
And that’s even worse.
So, please, take it from me. If you’re driving on a desolate, wooded road, and you see some orange lights through the trees—
Say a prayer for Brandon Wright.
Then get the hell out of there.
Blizzard Warning
“The storm is getting worse. Do not go outside under any circumstances. If you need assistance, dial 911.”
I plopped down on the couch with a bottle of wine. “We certainly picked the right time for a honeymoon, huh? We’re going to be snowed in for days.”
“I don’t mind,” Daniel said, with a wink.
I rolled my eyes. “No, seriously! I picked this cabin for the view. Pines for miles, with herds of deer and wild turkey. Now it’s just—this.” I gestured to the window. It was all white, save for the fuzzy gray outline of a few trees.
“Come on, it’ll be a funny story to tell our—”
Crack.
A sharp crackle of static on the radio, followed by the announcer’s hurried voice—
“Close all curtains and blinds. I repeat, close all curtains and blinds.”
I shot a glance at Daniel. He shrugged back.
“If you have any windows without blinds—including cellar windows, glass insets on front doors, and mail slots—cover them with a sheet.”
“That’s weird.”
“I bet it’s because of snow blindness,” Daniel said, pouring himself a glass. “You know, they don’t want anyone looking out their window, and getting blinded by the sun reflecting off the snow.” He stood up, and slowly lowered the blinds, until we were left in shadowy darkness.
“I’ll turn on the lights,” I said, flicking the switch.
Click.
Darkness.
“The power’s out?! No wonder it’s so cold in here! And how are we supposed to watch Game of Thrones? Or charge our phones? Or—”
“Rebecca, it’s okay. Here, sit, and drink the rest of your wine. I’m going to find some matches; then I’m going to chuck that stupid radio out into the snow, and we’re going to sit in front of a roaring fire. Okay?”
“Okay, fine.”
He disappeared into the kitchen.
The light through the blinds was fading now, and the room was steadily getting colder. The wooden bear in the corner—that I thought was cute and rustic—now looked like some sort of monster. And the antlers hanging from the walls looked no better than sharpened spikes, ready to impale anyone who dared to walk by. “Hurry back,” I called, pulling the blanket up to my neck. “It’s cold without you here.”
“One final warning.” The announcer’s voice came over the radio, muddied with static. “Do not go outside—do not open the door—no matter what you hear. And don’t—”
Static.
I grabbed the radio, shook it, and sighed. “The reception’s gone!”
“Good!” he called back. “And I think I found some matches!”
I clicked the dial forward.
A cheery voice came on, clear as day.
“We are handing out free supplies at the edge of the forest on Maple Street. Bottled water, canned food, blankets, and battery packs.”
Daniel rushed back in with the matches, looking confused. “Wait—I thought they said—”
I turned up the volume.
“Come out and get yours as soon as you can. There is limited supply.”
The firelight flickered across the cabin. The shadows jittered and jumped, as if they were alive. The chill settled in, and I pulled the blanket tightly around me.
“So every phone number goes to voicemail. Including my mom’s, and she always wants to talk to me.” I swirled the dregs of wine in my glass. “And there’s no mention of anything on the news. Where does that leave us?”
“Stranded?” Daniel said, with a dry laugh. “Dead?”
“Daniel!”
“Kidding, kidding! Here, let me see if I can find anything online about it.” He pulled out his phone. The blue glow contrasted sharply with the fire. “Instead of looking on news sites, I’m going to just Google with wild abandon. Let’s see… ‘Minnesota’… ‘radio broadcast’… ‘put sheets over windows’… ugh, page loading, we’re down to 3G.”
The fire crackled and hissed.
“Aha!” he said, thrusting the phone in my face. I took it and began to read.
queenofthenorth89
Hey, anybody in C___, Minnesota? We just got a really weird radio broadcast. They told us to lock up and shut our blinds, but now other broadcasts are saying to come out and get supplies on Maple Street. Anyone know what this is about?
CrazyCatGuy
The second one’s fake. It’s been playing on repeat, on every local station in range, for the past six hours.
excalibrrr
Guys, I did a lot of research, and a similar thing happened back in the ‘70s. YOU WILL BE OKAY, if you follow these rules:
Don’t look at them. Don’t let them see you.
Even if you’re camping in a tent, or sleeping in your car, you can survive. Just be sure to cover any windows and apertures with something opaque.
Keep all pets (and other animals, even livestock) inside. Don’t put out the garbage. Don’t light a fire. They can smell the smoke from miles away.
Daniel and I looked at each other.
And then at the roaring fire.
***
Thud.
I jolted awake.
The blanket was tangled around my feet. My neck ached, and my hands were cold as ice. The cabin was pitch-black now, save for the dying embers in the fireplace.
“Daniel?”
He only snored in response.
“Daniel!”
“What? ”
Thud.
“Did you hear that?”
“Probably just a branch, or something. Don’t worry about it.”
Thud! Thud, thud, thud!
The thuds echoed across the cabin, coming from every direction—even the roof. Daniel jolted awake, threw on his glasses, and sprung off the sofa.
“What the hell—”
Thump! Thump!
A sharp knock at the door.
“Hey, open up!”
A man’s voice, loud and clear through the silence of the blizzard, coming from the other side of the front door.
“Police! Open up!”
Daniel stood up, and hesitantly stepped towards the door.
“What are you doing?!” I hissed.
“It’s the police, Rebecca.”
“It’s a trap!” I leapt up and chased after him, as he slowly walked down the hall—away from the fire, away from the warmth. “They said don’t open the door for any reason, remember?!”
He stood in front of the door, frozen.
A shadow fell across the sheet we had pinned up. At a first glance, it looked like the silhouette of a normal person—a nor
mal policeman. But the longer I stared at it, the stranger it looked. The neck was just a hair too short, the legs too long; and the head was cocked at an unnatural angle.
“Police! Open up!”
“We have to let him in,” Daniel said, staring at the covered window.
Staring, staring…
At the corner of the window, where part of the sheet had come undone.
I darted in front of him. “Do not open that door! It’s not the police! It’s them—whatever they are!”
“Rebecca, it’s the police!”
He darted his hand under my arm, past my waist—
And yanked the door open.
“No!” I screamed.
For a moment, time froze.
The silence of the blizzard filled the cabin. Wayward flakes floated in, landing softly on the wooden floor. Daniel stood still as a statue, right on the threshold, gazing into the storm.
He let them in.
There’s no coming back from this, no way to save us now. We’re going to die, right here, before our marriage has even begun.
But then I had an idea.
I leapt up, and in one, violent motion—
Smacked the glasses right off his face.
Clack.
As the glasses fell from his face, the scales fell from his eyes. His expression turned from apathy to terror. He grabbed the edge of the door, and with all his might, pushed it shut.
Or tried to.
“Shut it! Shut it!” I screamed.
“I can't!” he yelled. "It’s pushing back! I'm not strong enough—
Crash!
The sound of breaking glass, from deep inside the cabin.
“It’s too late!” I screamed, tugging at his arm. “They’re inside!”
“Close your eyes!” he yelled.
“What are you doing?!”
“Just trust me!”
Creeaaak! Thump, thump, thump!
I heard the door fly open—and the sound of rapid, heavy footsteps.
Daniel grabbed my wrist and yanked me forward. I felt the wooden bear poke at me, the antlers scrape against me.
Ting, ting.
The jingle of keys.
And then I was yanked out into the cold. The flakes stung my face, my ankles burned in the snow. I stumbled through it, crying and terrified, but pushed forward, until I felt the familiar leather seats under my hands.
“I got you,” Daniel said, hoisting me into the car.
Slam.
The engine rumbled underneath me. The car jerked forward, and then swerved unto the road. “Good thing we have four-wheel-drive,” he said. “Oh, and you can open your eyes now.”
“But—won’t I see them?”
“I don’t see any on the road,” he said.
I opened my eyes.
The scene wasn’t much different from the dark of my eyelids, save for the headlights. Black trees flanked the road, stretching up towards the starless sky. A myriad of snowflakes glittered in the light, hovering in the branches, as if miraculously suspended in mid-air. No—not snowflakes.
Eyes. Hundreds of eyes, watching us from the treetops.
Thump. Thump.
Shadows dropped from the trees, like raindrops falling from the sky. The car lurched forward, flying over the blanket of snow.
“They’re in the road!” I screamed.
“What? Where?!”
“Everywhere! Can’t you see them?!”
“Of course I can’t see them! I can barely even see where we’re going! You took my glasses, remember?!”
The shadows came closer, flitting into the headlights’ beams. I closed my eyes tightly shut. We’re safe, I thought. We’re in a car. Protected by layers of glass and steel. Even that Excalibur guy on the internet said you’re safe in a car.
The car swerved again.
But that’s if they haven’t already seen you.
The car swerved violently. My head glanced off the window. The engine roared, as Daniel muttered under his breath, “come on, come on…”
“Why are we slowing down?!”
“I don’t know!” Daniel said, his voice starting to quaver. “Everything’s working fine. I don’t think the snow is deep enough to stop us—”
Rrrrr-rrr-rrrr!—the sound of wheels, spinning against the snow.
“I think they’re stopping us.”
Even with my eyes closed, I could feel them. Their eyes, that glittered in the headlights like the freshly-fallen snow. Their silhouettes, that were little more than shadows, or wisps of smoke. And—after they killed us—their new forms, shaped into eerie, uncanny versions of us.
Tap-tap-tap.
They were at the glass, now. How long did we have until they broke through, just like they did in the cabin? Minutes? Seconds?
The wheels stopped spinning. Click. Daniel shifted into park.
“What are you doing?”
“I have an idea.”
I opened my eyes, shielding my gaze from the forest with my hand. Daniel reached into his pocket, and pulled out the book of matches.
Fzzzssshhh.
He struck the match. The flame fizzled and glowed, and small wisps of black smoke floated towards the ceiling.
“Wait—isn’t that going to attract more of them?”
“Exactly,” he whispered.
No.
My heart began to pound.
I trusted him. I let him pull me across the snow. Pull me into the car. Pull me to my death, trapped here as they closed in.
The man sitting with me, here in the car…
It wasn’t Daniel.
It was one of them.
“What did you do to Daniel?! You killed him, didn’t you?!”
“What are you talking about?!”
“You’re leading them right to us! You said so yourself!”
“Not leading them to us! Leading them to this.” He took a piece of paper from the glove box, crumpled it, and held it to the match. The flames crawled over it, curling the edges of the paper. “I’m going to throw this out the window. Hopefully they’ll follow it.”
“…Oh.” I shook my head. “Wait, that makes no sense. Won’t the wind extinguish it?”
“You got a better idea?”
The metal groaned and screeched, as they worked to pull it apart. The tap-tap-taps echoed across the glass, like the ticks of a clock.
He rolled down the window. In my peripheral vision, I saw the orange ball piercing the darkness; heard the movements of the creatures, thumping over the car, over the snow—
Eeeeeeeeeeeee!
A shrill screech.
And, involuntarily—I looked up. The figures weren’t running towards the fire. They were running away.
In seconds, the silence of the forest returned. Snow slowly drifted to the ground. The trees were still as statues. And the branches above were dark—no glittering, white eyes.
“They’re afraid of fire,” was all he could choke out.
After holding him for what felt like an eternity, I realized how little sense that made. “But wait. That Excalibur guy on the message board said that they were attracted to fire—attracted to the smoke. Why would he say that?”
“I guess he didn’t know. Or—” My voice faltered as the realization sunk in, “—maybe he saw one of them. Maybe he was speaking for them.”
“But then why would he tell everyone to stay inside and cover their windows, too?”
“Maybe being trapped inside our houses, waiting out the storm, is exactly what they wanted.”
Daniel looked at me, his eyes wide in the darkness. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that maybe… the second radio message was the one we should have believed.”
We raced back to the car. I thrust the keys into ignition, and the car rumbled to life.
“We’re going to Maple Street.”
***
When we
turned onto Maple Street, a strange sight greeted us.
A small house sat on the edge of the forest. It was surrounded by dozens of small fires, their trails of smoke merging into one large pillar that reached up towards the sky. Several people stood in the yard, and a few started pointing to us as we approached.
As we entered, a black-haired woman ran over to us. “Stand over here to the side, please. We need to test you first.” She picked up her handheld radio. “Two more just arrived, Mark.”
“Test us?”
“We need to make sure you aren’t compromised, ma’am.”
We awkwardly stood in the yard, the fire hot against our backs. “Maybe this was a bad idea,” Daniel whispered. “Are we sure that—”
“Hey there!” A burly man walked over to us, wearing an ill-fitting flannel shirt with a rip across the chest. He slipped a flashlight out of his pocket, shined it in our eyes, and then called over: “Hey, Nancy, they’re good!”
She motioned for us to come inside. “Make yourselves at home. Eat some dinner, take supplies—we have plenty. Not many have come by… we were too late in intercepting the alert, it seems.”
“What are they? In the forest?” Daniel asked.
“Are we safe here?” I added.
She didn’t reply. Instead, she led us to a table of sandwiches, and hurried away.
Daniel and I took food and joined one of the emptier tables. Across from us sat a teenager, chin resting on her hand, pushing the coleslaw on her plate in circles.
“Why won’t they tell us anything?” I said to Daniel, my voice low.
“And how did they set this up so fast?” Daniel said. “Firewood, an external generator for power, tons of food—it’s almost like this has happened before, and they were ready.”
“It did happen before.”
We looked up. The teenager was staring at us, smiling like a child divulging a secret. “My dad told me it happened back in the seventies, and they’ve been prepared ever since.”
“That’s what that Excalibur guy on the internet said,” Daniel said. “I guess there was some truth in his words.”
I nodded. “So—uh—what are they?” I asked, a little too loudly. From across the hall, Mark shot us a disapproving look.
“I’ve heard the name ‘ice shadows’ thrown around,” she replied, shrugging. “But who knows what they really are? Shape-shifters, phantoms, demons… We had one outside our bedroom window, talking in my mom’s voice, telling Dad she wanted to get back together. Saved him in a nick of time.”