White Walker

by Richard Schiver

  WHITE

  WALKER

  RICHARD SCHIVER

  NIGHTMARES UNLEASHED

  Abis Books

  Copyright © 2014 Richard Schiver

  Cover Design Copyright © 2014 Richard Schiver

  Editing performed by Patricia Russo

  All rights reserved.

  No portion of this story may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the express written consent of the author and publisher

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the Author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to Actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not

  purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

  Chapter 1

  The wipers struggled to keep up with the falling snow as they whipped back and forth across the glass, building ridges of ice at each stop, streaking the glass as bits of ice became lodged beneath the wipers’ edges. Even with the defroster set on full, the ice on the windshield continued to grow, distorting his view of the world beyond, forcing Teddy to lean forward in his seat as he struggled to see through the sheets of falling snow that swirled around them.

  While not a rarity for this region, the late winter storm had taken many by surprise, rolling in from the North and becoming lodged against the landmass of the Eastern Continental divide that was Big Savage Mountain, parking itself over the aptly named town of Frostburg that had been built on the Eastward slope of Big Savage. By the time Teddy and Judy left for work, more than eight inches of snow had accumulated, with much more on the way.

  Judy sat on the passenger’s side, wedged into the corner between the seat back and door. Normally she would be right next to him, but today she had opted to remain on her side. Wrapped in a heavy coat, with a woolen cap pulled down on her head, leaving only the worried expression on her face visible. She kept her gaze fixed straight ahead, looking neither left or right, her arms crossed over her chest with her hands tucked into her armpits to keep them warm.

  “Are you all right?” he asked for what must have been the hundredth time that day. Ever since they had gotten up that morning, she had been distant and withdrawn, retreating into her own little world, and it worried him. Looking back, he realized she had been this way all week: he’d just been too busy to notice until now.

  Judy remained silent, nodding in response to his question, her thoughts obviously elsewhere. There was definitely something wrong. He saw it etched in the lines of worry that marred her otherwise blemish-free features. But as he had learned over the course of their relationship, when she was ready, she’d let him know what was wrong.

  “We’re almost there,” he said as he flipped on the blinker, more out of habit than to signal his intentions to the other motorists on the road. Theirs was one of the few vehicles moving. They were one of the few who were brave enough, or crazy enough, to be out on a day like this.

  For Teddy there was no choice. This was his first day as the shift supervisor for Advanced Computer Services, a small call center on the eastern edge of town. The company provided help desk tech support for a software developer whose customers were defense contractors and manufacturers. Several call centers within ACS handled the flow of traffic so the loss of one was no big deal. But a number of the people on his team had not updated their contact information, meaning they had not received the call to stay home, forcing Teddy to go in on a day he’d rather have stayed home himself. He’d always believed there were times when you did what you had to, not what you wanted. It was a philosophy that had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember.

  Beyond the windshield lay a blasted landscape filled with unrecognizable blobs that rose from the ground like bubbles floating on the surface of a stagnant pond. For all he knew they were on a distant planet fighting through an endless blizzard. A wretched place that could only exist at the end of a twisted rainbow that offered little hope of redemption.

  “There’s somebody out there,” Judy said as she leaned forward in her seat to search the sheets of falling snow.

  “I didn’t see anybody,” Teddy said.

  “Right there.” Judy pointed at the side of the road in front of them. “I just saw them again.”

  Teddy gripped the wheel as he tried to see through the blinding snow. He didn’t slow down.

  “Aren’t you going to stop and help them?” Judy said.

  “What makes you think they need help?”

  “I don’t know, but they could, maybe their car is broken down or something.”

  “Or they’re just walking home.”

  “What if they’re lost? What if we don’t stop to help and later learn they were lost and we could have saved them?”

  “You want me to stop?” Teddy said.

  “Yes, stop and help, or see if they need any help.”

  With a shrug, Teddy eased his foot off the gas. He’d learned early in their relationship that there was no sense arguing with her once she’d set her mind to something. As the brakes grabbed, the truck slid sideways on the slick surface of the road. Or at least what he thought was the road. For all he knew they were driving through someone’s back yard, about to plow into their living room. Easing to a stop, the truck came to rest with a final slide.

  “If we get stuck,” he said.

  “We won’t get stuck.” she answered with a confidence he lacked.

  The wind rocked the vehicle back and forth as it shrieked through the narrow gaps and crevices of the undercarriage. Judy was twisted around in her seat, pressing her face to the window, her hands to either side, as she tried to see through the swirling curtain of falling snowflakes.

  “Blow your horn, let them know where we are,” Judy said.

  Teddy hesitated. What if I don’t want the stranger to know where we were? While not a charitable thought, it was the truth.

  “What’s wrong? Don’t you want to help?”

  He did, but he didn’t. A part of him wanted to help in any way possible. After all, it was his nature; it was what had driven him to volunteer for the local Volunteer Fire Department as an Emergency Medical Technician. But the things he’d faced in his past, after his parents’ deaths, had taught him to be wary of strangers, and in the current economic climate you really couldn’t trust anyone.

  Torn between his natural desire to help others and a lifetime of bad memories, he tapped the horn, cringing inwardly as that brief blat of sound was lost in the rising voice of the wind.

  “You gotta do it more than once,” Judy said as she leaned across the cab of the truck and laid on the horn.

  Teddy experienced a moment of self-loathing. He was acting like a little kid. Afraid of a stranger in a snowstorm; it didn’t make any sense, yet he couldn’t deny the sensation that there was something more going on. It lay just beneath the surface of his subconscious. Like a name hidden right on the tip of the tongue. You knew what it was, but you couldn’t see it clearly because you were too focused on trying to figure it out.

  “I don‘t see him anymore. Maybe you should go see if you can find him,” Judy said.

  “Me?”

  “Of course you. I can’t do it. What if he’s fallen down and needs help?”

  She was right and Teddy knew he was acting like a child. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that stepping out into the
storm was the worst thing he could do right now.

  “Hurry up. I’ll flash the lights on and off, and keep blowing the horn so you can find your way back.”

  Along with whatever else was out there, he finished to himself.

  Zipping his coat, he leaned into the door and pulled the handle. At first nothing happened; the door remained firmly closed. Maybe it was frozen shut, he had time to consider before it popped open and the dome light behind his head came on.

  A cold wind invaded the warmth of the cab as flakes of snow fluttered to the seat beside him, melting instantly. He pushed the door all the way open, allowing the storm entry as he spun around in his seat and slipped from behind the wheel.

  Closing the door, he stood next to the truck as the storm raged around him. The wind yanked at his collar, slipping down his neck to caress his flesh with a chilled lover’s touch. As he stood there, surrounded by the voice of the storm that came in the shrieking cry of the wind, he heard the unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching through the carpet of snow. A leisurely, measured sound, as if that which was walking towards him had all the time in the world.

  He felt its presence on a deep, primitive level. Whatever was coming was a part of the storm, a physical extension of a meteorological event. On the surface it was an irrational thought, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching him from the storm itself. The footsteps stopped, somewhere to his left, an unknown distance away. For all Teddy knew whoever it was could be standing right next to him, and the thought sent a jolt of fear through him.

  He spun around, trying to catch sight of whatever was sneaking up on him. There was nothing there. Yet he felt it watching him, as if the storm itself were full of eyes that observed his actions in a detached, clinical manner.

  The sound of a footstep came from his right and he spun around in that direction. Nothing moved among the swirling sheets of snow. The sound came from behind him and he spun around to confront: nothing. He pulled open the door and climbed in behind the wheel. Slamming the door behind him.

  “Did you find him?” Judy said.

  Teddy shook his head as he dropped the shift lever into low and gently stepped on the gas. The wheels spun as they pulled away from the curb, throwing up slushy snow in their wake.

  “What happened?” Judy asked.

  But Teddy remained silent. There had been something in the storm, something that had watched him from the falling snow. Something that he sensed on a dark, primitive level that had no right to exist. Judy gave up her questioning and retreated back into herself as she settled into the corner of the seat, her arms crossed over her chest, her emotionless expression offering no hint to what lay behind her eyes.

  ***

  Usually it was a task to find a place to park, but today the lot was nearly empty. He glanced at Judy in the passenger’s seat. Wrapped in her winter coat, her gaze remained fixed straight ahead. She was probably still pissed over what had happened earlier. And Teddy had to admit; with a bit of distance between now and then, that he’d acted like a scared little kid. There wasn’t anything in the storm that could hurt them.

  “Are you all right?” he asked again, more out of habit. Her response a silent shrug as she continued to refuse to look in his direction.

  Maybe she knew what he had been agonizing over ever since he’d been promoted. She had been at the call center longer than he had, so she was aware of company’s policy on fraternization. They had not done a very good job of keeping their relationship a secret from their co-workers, and Teddy knew all too well, and he was sure that Judy understood, that it wouldn’t be possible for her to work for him while they were involved.

  An office romance between co-workers was one thing. But a romance between a manager and a member of his team was strictly forbidden. There were no two ways about it. He had worked too hard and too long to get where he was to throw it all away over a woman. She would have to quit her job or they would have to quit seeing one another.

  “Have you ever thought about what it would be like to get married, settle down, and have a family?” Judy asked as she kept her gaze fixed straight ahead.

  “Sure, but that’s in the future.”

  Judy sighed.

  “What is wrong with you today? You have been like this all week.”

  “I’m late!”

  Teddy glanced at his watch and noted that they still had fifteen minutes before the shift started.

  “We’ve got plenty of time yet.”

  “You’re such an idiot,” she said as she flung open her door and slipped down from the cab. He felt like he had just missed some important clue and he watched her cross the parking lot to the front door of the building. As she crossed the lot he became aware of several small snow devils, miniature whirlwinds of snow that seemed to move with a sentient purpose, swirling behind her. When she slipped inside they dissipated, collapsing into the swirling sheets of snow that danced before him.

  Shutting off his truck, he followed her. His uncle had always said women were nearly impossible to comprehend, an observation Teddy was slowly coming to appreciate.

  With his head down, and his hands stuffed into the pockets of his heavy coat, he ran across the lot towards the front door of the building that housed the call center. Reaching the sidewalk that ran the length of the front, stopped and turned to look back at the sheets of falling snow. The wind whipped the snowflakes to and fro, shifting direction almost instantly. A rhythmic display that reminded him of a flock of birds gathering to head south for the winter and how they flew as a group with one mind. Twisting and turning in an instinctive dance as they prepared for their long journey to warmer climes. Once again he spotted three swirling snow devils that skittered back and forth to his right, weaving in and out of one another’s path.

  He was mesmerized by the almost hypnotic precision as the snow swirled around him, taking on a life of its own. Slowly he became aware of a pattern. The snowflakes were no longer aimlessly darting back and forth as they were driven about by the shifting wind. They all began flowing in one direction, following a clockwise pattern as they were drawn into a vortex swirling around a very tight axis that slowly formed a snowy funnel.

  The swirling column of snow measured a mere five feet across at its widest point, narrowing to a tip that danced across the surface of the ground as the body of the vortex undulated above it like a snake. It grew taller, taking on substance and form, towering above him. Teddy was forced to tilt his head back as far as he could in order to watch as the funnel rose towards the muted sky above.

  His earlier feelings of unease returned, stronger than before. While fascinating to watch, the action of the snow had an unsettled effect on him. A moaning cry drew his attention and he looked up to see the wide mouth of the funnel as its body nearly doubled over upon itself, and the black eye at the center of the funnel gazed down upon him. It was an image he was familiar with. One he had seen before in the past. Then it came to him: the sandworms from the movie Dune.

  Teddy turned and swiped his id card through the reader next to the door. After the beep signaling that the door was unlocked, he yanked it open as that inhuman roar reached a crescendo, filling the world around him with a shrieking cry of agonized anger as he slipped into the safety of the building. He stood at the door for a moment, watching the storm, that towering funnel having dissipated, and then he turned to vanish into the building’s depths.

  Chapter 2

  Teddy sat on the edge of his seat as he waited for Marie, the general manager, to return to her sparsely furnished office. Aside from a desk whose surface was neat and tidy, the only other piece of furniture was a narrow bookcase beneath several framed diplomas occupying the wall to his right. The bookcase contained, from what he could see without being too obvious, several first editions of some well known classics. A reader himself, his curiosity as to their authenticity was stirred. But that wasn’t why he was here. In his various dealings with Marie she had never struck him as someone
willing to strike up a conversation over anything outside of work.

  Behind the desk was a window and his gaze kept being drawn to the storm outside as the sound of the wind battering itself against the wall filled the office with a low roar. He shuddered when a swirling snow devil danced across the width of the window. He felt a chill as an errant breeze wafted through the office. He’d rather be at home with his feet up, safely encased in his apartment, yet his responsibility as a supervisor had forced him to be here.

  His job was his responsibility; he’d made a promise, not only to his employer, but also to Judy, the only real family he had. He knew to get ahead you had to exchange a portion of your life for the means to provide for your loved ones. To give them a sense of security. But sometimes the line between your job and your life became blurred, as it had for his mother and father. A pair of workaholics whose greatest contribution to the world was their eagerness to put aside promises made to family to fulfill the needs of their employer.

  His childhood had been one of constant disappointment. Family vacations promised yet never taken. His daily needs entrusted to a parade of strangers as both of his parents worked towards their own success. Never once considering that to Teddy their presence in his life would have meant more than all the toys in the world.

  He’d never lacked for anything, and always had the latest and the best toys, making his friends jealous. But they had something he would never know. They had known the loving touch of a father’s hand, the caress of a mother’s lips upon his cheek, a cool hand on his fevered brow. His parents were at work when he woke up in the morning, and still away when he went to sleep. Several times he had tried to wait up for them, only to fall asleep on the couch long before they arrived.

  When he was twelve, the two strangers that were his parents died in an accident and the money they had given up their lives to put back for his future was siphoned off by a succession of semi-relatives who crawled out of the woodwork after their deaths. From the so-called aunt in Arlington, Texas who insisted that he come live with her, to his father’s half-brother who didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was pulling one over on Teddy’s dead parents. Each in their turn fed at the trough of a trust fund that was supposed to protect the money. Only it didn’t. It had been put together by the relative of a friend of a friend who didn’t really know what he was doing. But the price had been right.