“What’s your rush?” the stranger asked.
“Please,” Randy moaned as terror thundered through him.
“Sit for a spell.” The stranger reached out and touched Randy’s shoulder. Firewood fell from his nerveless fingers as intense agony doubled him over. He rubbed his shoulder where the stranger had touched him. From that spot, an intense pain spread across his chest like the searching fingers of a wintry chill. He coughed, struggling to breathe as his chest contracted and his lungs shriveled from the intense cold invading them.
“Help me,” Randy managed to whisper as he dropped to his knees in front of the stranger. He looked up into the stranger’s face and the last thing he saw were two malevolent eyes. Then he fell face first into the waiting snow.
The stranger touched Randy’s shoulder with his booted foot, shrugged, and turned to the schoolhouse.
***
“Let’s play a game,” Harriet said as she moved away from the window. When she did, the stranger appeared out of the storm and approached the front door.
“What shall we play?” Victoria asked.
“How about Duck Duck Goose?” the Davydov twins asked in unison.
Harriet considered this as the older children groaned in dismay. The activity would help to keep the children warm, but it was a game more suited for the smaller children.
“How about musical chairs?” Harriet offered. She had the old phonograph in the corner they could use, and the activity would keep them both occupied and warm. A knock interrupted them and Harriet crossed to the door.
“Don’t, Ms Simmons, “ Rebecca cried out, “it could be the bad man.”
“Nonsense, Rebecca, it’s just Randy coming back with more wood,” she said as her hand settled on the cold metal knob; a small part of her was hopeful that what she had said was the truth. She swung open the door and all hope died when the stranger was revealed standing in the doorframe. Harriet attempted to shut the door but the stranger blocked it with one arm.
Charles stood in the corner alone, his gaze fixed on the door, whispering an old name whose origins lay in the distant past. “White Walker,” he said.
The door was driven open and he stood upon the threshold. He wore the guise of a man dressed in a long leather coat that remained motionless as the searching fingers of the winters wind quickly invaded the warmer interior of the schoolhouse. A battered leather hat was pushed down upon his head with a filthy red scarf wrapped about the lower portion of his face, hiding his mouth and nose. His eyes sparkled in the shadowy depths cast by the wide brim of his hat.
Harriet spun from the door and raced back to her desk, avoiding his outstretched hand. She snatched the coal lantern from her desk and spun around to confront the stranger.
“Get out, now,” she shouted as she drew back her arm.
The stranger smiled and Harriet threw the coal lamp. It missed, splashing coal oil on the dry wood next to the door, which was ignited by the burning wick. The flames drove away the stranger and the small fire, fed by the wind, was quickly fanned into a raging inferno that feasted on the dried wood inside the schoolhouse.
Smoke overwhelmed them as the flames greedily consumed the schoolhouse. They cowered in the corner, each passing into unconsciousness, overwhelmed by the smoke that made it nearly impossible to breathe. Harriet was the last, struggling to breathe as the flames edged closer still, the heat making her sweat into her heavy dress as the flames dried her skin and pulled the flesh of her face taunt against the bones of her skull. She clung to consciousness, her charges lying about her in a twisted heap with their arms and legs intertwined as if they were seeking comfort in death that had not been available in life. She had sworn she would protect them at all costs.
In her final moments, as unconsciousness claimed her and her life dimmed, Charles came to her, emerging from the flames, a being of fire himself, his hand held out to her.
“It’s okay,” he said, “the flames don’t hurt once you get used to them.”
She lifted her arm to take Charles’s hand and when the flesh of her fingers molded into his palm, she saw them gathered around her. Her charges, the children she had struggled so valiantly to save, were with her as they would be for an eternity. In the storm she saw the stranger’s face, the white walker as he truly appeared. His flesh the color of fine marble, his eyes as cold as the winter’s chill. A beard of glittering icicles hung from his chin.
“They are mine,” he said, nodding at the children huddled around her.
“Not as long as I exist,” she said as she reached out for him with one flaming arm, satisfied to see him shrink from her contact.
The images faded from Jasmine’s mind and she looked up into the empty room. The shadowy shapes of the children had vanished. Yet the stench of burnt flesh was still present, as were David’s remains.
With a sound like a gunshot, one of the diagonal beams in the Pratt truss near the southeast corner of the building, directly over the training room, suddenly gave way. The interior ceiling sagged noticeably as the weight of the wet snow on top pressed down upon it.
Inside the training room, the desk lamp flickered before going out completely, plunging her into a black abyss. She was aware of the ceiling pressing down upon her, the loose tiles rattling in their frames as they were forced down by the immense weight of the snow slowly piling on top of them.
She felt it then, that forlorn loneliness, that creature of the storm, forever cursed to wander alone searching for a way in.
Chapter 17
Norman sat across from Teddy and Cody at one of the tables in the break room. Chilled to the bone, they shivered uncontrollably while Teddy’s teeth chattered. Cody laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Teddy said.
“You, man. I’d always heard stories about people’s teeth chattering from the cold but I’d never seen it until now.”
“I’m so glad I could provide some comic relief.” Teddy said.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Cody shot back, his demeanor instantly defensive.
“Nothing, man, don’t worry about it.”
“You’re being a fucking smart ass again.”
“What the hell is your damned problem?” Teddy said, his own anger rising. “I didn’t mean anything by what I said. Quit being so sensitive. Not everyone’s making fun of you behind your back.”
“I’m sorry,” Cody said, holding his hands up. “I just...” The door rattling in its frame interrupted him. All three of their gazes shifted in the door’s direction.
Norman gulped as he fought to dispel the memories he’d kept buried until today. There had been an investigation, his lie had come out, and he was forced to admit that he had been with Jimmy the whole time. Had witnessed his abduction, yet had refused to say anything about it. In his defense he had never in a million years even once considered the possibility that Jimmy was in any more danger than a swift ass kicking and banishment to his house after the two boys were done with him. When the truth came out, he was sick to his stomach.
The guilt lay heavy in his heart. If he had come forward in the beginning none of it would have happened. Jimmy would have been saved, he’d still be alive today, and his own life might have taken a turn for the better.
At the same time he understood it could have been him. But would they have tortured and killed them both if they had been together? It was a question that would forever haunt him.
His eyes had become fixed on the back door, the image of his friend’s battered and bloodied face firmly planted in his mind. Every time the wind rattled the door he cringed, imaging that Jimmy was on the other side trying to get in.
***
While Judy was busy putting on a pot of coffee to help warm them, Teddy and Cody spoke in hushed whispers about what they had seen, while Norman’s gaze remained fixed on the back door.
“Did you hear it?” Cody said.
“I heard footsteps in the snow,” Teddy said.
“Did you see anythin
g?” Cody said.
“I didn’t see a thing,” Teddy lied, opting to refrain from saying anything about the lone figure in the storm. Or what he had seen inside the building when he was unconscious. He still didn’t believe it himself, choosing instead to classify what had happened as a dream.
“I saw him, for a second or two,” Cody said.
“What did you see?” Teddy said.
Cody shook his head. “It was one guy, dressed in a long coat, and with a cowboy hat pulled down over his face. All I could see was his eyes. They sparkled in the shadows.” Cody shuddered at the memory.
Teddy cringed inwardly at Cody’s description that matched his own, confirming they had both seen the same thing.
“Did he say anything to you?” Teddy said.
“He asked if he could come in. I said no fucking way, man. When I was a kid, my mom used to tell me about some guy she saw walking through a snow storm when she was a kid. I always figured it was bullshit. Just a story she made up to try and scare me and my sister. She called him a White Walker, and said he faded in and out of the snow storm.”
“My nanny told me a story about her grandmother,” Teddy said. “Telling her about a creature that lived in snow storms. She called it Byelii, which she said translated to White One. It was supposed to have saved the village she lived in when a German patrol came through during World War II.”
“You had a nanny growing up?” Cody said.
“Yeah, didn’t you have one?”
“Fuck no, we were lucky to have a babysitter when my mom worked. My dad was a worthless shit, always drunk, could never hold down a decent job.”
Judy placed two steaming cups of coffee on the table between them. Norman had been silent while his gaze remained fixed on the back door.
“So what was the story your mom told you?” Teddy said.
“She said one night during a bad winter storm she was sitting at her window watching the snow fall when a man dressed in a long coat with a hat pulled down over his eyes stepped out of the woods into her back yard. He stood there and she knew he was watching her, and then she heard him in her mind asking her to let him in. She got away from the window and tried to go to sleep, but several times through the night she sneaked to the window to see if he was still there, and each time he was. Just standing in the back yard staring up at her window, and every time she peeked she heard that same voice in her head. Asking to let him in.”
“What do you think he, or it, wants?” Teddy said.
Cody shrugged. “Don’t know, don’t wanna know. I just want him, it, whatever to leave me alone.”
“What about you, Norman? What have you seen?” Teddy said.
“Nothing!” Norman said.
“Bullshit,” Cody said, “you saw something out there, I know you did.”
Norman turned his bleak gaze on Cody, who settled back into his seat, silenced by the terror in Norman’s eyes.
“I didn’t see anything. Now shut up,” Norman said before he returned his gaze to the back door.
They became silent, each retreating into their own thoughts, as Judy returned and busied herself helping each of them into their winter coats.
Chapter 18
Teddy’s question had struck a nerve with Cody, who had grown up in a dysfunctional home ruled by a drunken old man who hadn’t put in an honest day’s work his entire life. His mother had been forced by circumstance to work three jobs to keep the bills paid, put food on the table, and keep his father immersed in a drunken stupor.
To this day, he could not understand what it was his mother had seen in his father. He also learned, the hard way, that alcoholism was for him a fact of life. Of all the things he could have inherited from his parents, he got stuck with the one thing he didn’t want. He was so afraid of becoming just like his old man, yet at the same time the allure of becoming lost in a drunken stupor was too much for him to resist.
His friends were no help. They were always after him to go out and get drunk. And it was so easy, drink a few beers, a couple of shots of whiskey, and kiss his sorry-ass life goodbye for a few hours. He could pretend that he was important. That he really mattered.
But you do matter, Cody, that sinister voice whispered in his mind, accompanied by the crunch of snow beneath a booted foot. Open the door, let me in, I will make your life matter.
“Get out of my mind,” Cody whispered as he clamped his hands over his ears.
“What’s wrong, Cody?” Teddy said.
“Is he all right?” Judy said.
Cody lowered his head as he growled in his throat.
“It’s the stranger,” Norman said. “He’s gotten into Cody’s mind.
“How do you know that?” Teddy said.
“Because he’s been in my mind, digging through my memories, looking for a weakness he can use.”
“Why?”
“Because he wants in,” Norman said.
“What are you talking about?” Judy said. “Who wants in?”
Teddy knew. He understood what was going on, though he didn’t know why. He hadn’t quite figured that out yet, but he felt like he was on the verge of uncovering the secret. It had something to do with the children and the woman who looked surprisingly like Judy.
From the main room came a sound like a gunshot. The lights flickered momentarily before plunging them into total darkness. Judy screamed. Norman moaned in terror and the door rattled in its frame as the wind continued to batter against the outer wall of the building.
Here and there emergency lights kicked on creating pools of light, like islands of safety in the thick emptiness that lay beyond their reach.
Teddy, Cody and Judy moved to the hallway, which was softly illuminated by the dim light coming through the window in the back door. In the break room a single light offered some illumination on the far wall.
The lights came back on. From somewhere within the depths of the building came the sound of a motor starting up, and then it died as the lights blinked out once again.
The three of them had reached the hallway, leaving Norman alone in the break room. From the shadows behind him Norman heard the sound of dragging footsteps.
“Please,” he whispered. The steady buzz of the emergency light on the opposite wall was the only response he received.
The lights flickered on and off for a brief second and Norman saw Jimmy standing in the break room twenty feet away from him. In the ensuing darkness he heard dragging footsteps as the moan trapped in his throat erupted into a scream of terror as he jumped to his feet and raced to the relative safety of the hallway.
He found Cody, Teddy and Judy at the far end of the hallway. Cody held a lighter above his head as the three of them peered into the darkness of the main room.
“What was that all about?” Teddy said as Norman reached them.
“Nothing,” Norman replied as he glanced back at the black maw of the break room door. From the shadowy depths came the sound of something dragging itself across the tiled floor.
The light coming through the small window in the rear door filled the hallway with a soft glow. As the four of them peered into the deeper shadows of the main room, something blocked the light coming through the window in the back door.
Norman was the first to turn around to find the silhouette of a head wearing a wide-brimmed hat outlined in the window.
“Who’s blocking the light?” Cody said, the rest of his statement unspoken as he turned to find that silhouette.
“What’s wrong?” Teddy said as he turned to find themselves being scrutinized by something beyond the back door.
“He’s trying to get in,” Cody said, filled with the same terror he’d experienced as a child when his drunken father would try to crawl into bed with him at night. There were no sexual overtones in his father’s act. Just the loneliness of a shattered man seeking some kind of comfort.
I can make it all better for you. That sinister voice returned, caressing Cody’s thoughts with the memory of a cold and
desolate place. I can take all the bad things away and leave only the good.
“Leave me the fuck alone, you asshole,” Cody yelled as he raced to the rear door and beat at the wire reinforced glass with his fist. The shadowy form beyond the window watched with silent mirth.
Teddy and Norman pulled Cody away from the back door, his knuckles broken and bleeding, splotches of blood staining the glass.
“Get the first aid kit.” Teddy said. Judy nodded before she turned and vanished into the shadows of the main room.
“I’m sorry,” Cody said as he cried. It was his fault, and his alone; he was the reason his father had started drinking. He had taken his father’s freedom from him with his birth. He had become a burden, an obligation, and the cold grasp of reality that strangled his dreams.
His father had told him once, during a rare moment of sobriety, that when he was younger he wanted to be a singer. But then he’d met Cody’s mother, and the next thing he knew she was pregnant. He had tried to do the right thing. But the nine-to-five grind was not to his liking and it wasn’t long before his options had dwindled to none. He loved Cody’s mother, and loved Cody as well, but the drinking had twisted that love into a mockery of itself. Making it so easy for him to lay the blame for his failure at the feet of an impressionable child.
The lights came on, flickered several times, and then steadied as Teddy and Norman led Cody to the bathroom to clean his wound.
Chapter 19
Andrea wanted a cigarette. There was no request for forgiveness in that statement, no anger, no remorse. Stated plain and simple, she wanted a damned cigarette. She had given up years ago on quitting, accepting the fact that she would always smell of cigarette smoke, and that she was risking her life by inhaling all the toxic fumes that they said were contained within the smoke itself. But who really gave a shit? She was going to die anyway. They all were. If not today, then sometime down the road the reaper would catch up with each of them in its own way.
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