Blizzard (BearPaw Resort #2)

by Cambria Hebert

  It rang. And rang. Rang some more. When the generic voicemail came on, sweat dripped down my back. “Call me,” I demanded, then hung up.

  Shoving the cell into my jeans, I ran for the door. It banged against the wall when I wrenched it wide. My secretary nearly fell out of her chair when I charged into the hall.

  “Liam?”

  “Call the police,” I yelled. “Send them to my house.”

  And then I started to run.

  Bellamy

  I didn’t scream. Maybe I was beyond screaming. It never helped anyway. Jerking back around the wall, out of sight from the intruder, I picked up the landline and dialed 9-1-1.

  Charlie started going crazy, and I looked up in time to see the big dog lunge at the man who was suddenly right there, rushing around the corner.

  This time I did scream.

  The dog attacked, knocking the man onto his back. He shouted in pain, and I knew Charlie hit his mark. Seconds later, the dog was shoved away. He skittered across the kitchen floor, hitting the side of the island.

  The phone was still in my hand. I still needed to press the final button to actually send the call through. Just as I was about to, the intruder produced a gun and took aim right at Charlie.

  “No!” I yelled and threw the cordless right at him and leapt in front of my dog.

  A shot exploded in the house, so loud my ears rang. Still trying to protect Charlie, I glanced up, realizing the shot had gone wide because the phone hit the gun.

  The pistol was lying near the intruder, and I briefly thought to lunge for it, but the chance I would make it first was slim. And it would leave Charlie unprotected. The man’s ski mask was ripped, and red dripped out of the tear and over his lips.

  Blood coated the back of his hand as it extended for the gun.

  Seeing him recover snapped me back into action. I grabbed the dog by his collar and dragged his heavy body toward the back door. I fumbled with the lock with one hand as Charlie began barking and growling again. I felt sick with fear. If I didn’t get him out of here, that man was going to shoot him.

  The door flew open as another shot fired, and the sound of wood splintering made me shriek and duck, but I didn’t stop. I shoved and pushed a very reluctant and aggressive Charlie outside. “Get out of here!” I yelled at him. “Run!”

  A heavy hand clamped around my hair. The leather of the gloves seemed to tangle it instantly as he dragged me back into the house.

  Charlie started to lunge, but I kicked the door shut, forcing him to stay away.

  As the man dragged me backward through the kitchen, I started to fight. The excessive length of my hair gave me freedom of movement, so I spun, ignoring the way it tugged on my scalp, and kicked out.

  I hit his knee, and he stumbled, so I took advantage and slammed my arm down over his, dislodging his hold on my hair.

  I ran for the hallway. The sound of my phone going off filled the bedroom, but my phone wasn’t what I was after. Wrenching open the closet door, I glanced up to the emergency bag I had packed… and then I looked beside it. To the case with the gun inside.

  Frantic, I went for it, but the man grabbed me from behind. His arms were like vises, clamping down around me, lifting me off my feet. I kicked and yelled, and in a fit of desperation, I slammed my head backward, headbutting him.

  The force of the hit caused him to let go and stumble away. I dove at the gun case and yanked it down. Several other items fell with it, littering the floor around me as I hit my knees and threw open the top.

  The cold, unmistakable butt of a pistol slammed against my temple. I fell to the side but quickly pushed back up and reached for my gun.

  He kicked the case just out of reach. It skittered beneath a large scarf that had fallen.

  I went for it, but he appeared in front of me, pushing the gun right between my eyes. I froze. The memory of my father being shot and the way the blood splattered haunted me. I had a moment of clarity. So this is how he felt.

  “Any last words?” the man intoned, and I jerked up.

  I didn’t know that voice. “Who are you?” That wasn’t Spidey underneath that mask. This was someone new.

  “Your own personal grim reaper.” He had a New York accent.

  Since I was low to the ground, I had the perfect vantage point. I swung out with everything I had and punched him right in the nuts.

  A choked sound gurgled overhead, and I scrambled away, crawling until I could jump to my feet. He was standing in front of where my gun was, so instead, I ran for the door.

  He fired again, and the shot went past me and shattered the window. Snow and cold air rushed in. It was snowing again, the kind of snow that seemed to attack the ground.

  Glass crunched under my feet, slicing through my socks and piercing my skin. I didn’t cry out, but kept going, yanking open the door as more snow drifted inside, spreading over the threshold and covering the floor.

  He caught me before I could rush out into the blizzard. This time when the gun hit me in the side of the head, everything around me went dark.

  ***

  I came to on my back, the hard floor pushing into my shoulder blades creating sharp jabs of pain. Blinking awake, consciousness surged over me, and I gasped, the force of it bringing me up.

  “Not so fast.” The man grunted and shoved me back with his meaty hand.

  I fell back, the ache in my head real. His heavy weight settled over me when his body straddled my hips. My stomach churned, and my limbs felt weak. I couldn’t shove him off, but when he forced his face down near mine, I grabbed the ripped mask and tore it off his head.

  His hair was gray and buzzed close to his scalp. A large scar cut through his right eyebrow and down to the corner of his eye. His face was smeared with blood, the gash still bleeding, and it gave me some satisfaction.

  “Take a good look, sweetheart,” he rasped. “This is the last face you’re ever gonna see.”

  I twisted, trying to get out from beneath him. He pushed his body down against mine even more. Breath stalled in my lungs when he reached out and caressed my chest with a knife I hadn’t even noticed he had.

  I turned my face away, looking behind him to where I knew my gun lay. If I could just get there, if I could get it in my hand, everything would be okay.

  A strong gale of wind made the door slam against the wall, and frigid air came with it. The sound of more wind beating against the side of the house filled the place with an ominous feeling.

  “Did Crone send you?” I asked, trying to figure out my next move.

  “It’s nothing personal, doll. I’d come after anyone whose death was worth two million.”

  So that’s what my death was worth?

  What about my life?

  “Please.” I gasped. “I’m pregnant.”

  He laughed. “Nice try, sweetheart. I’m a man of no conscience.”

  I grabbed his wrists and started to fight. The knife he held fell out of his hands when he moved to subdue me. I twisted, grabbed it, and felt a moment of triumph.

  A moment that was entirely too brief.

  He knocked it away, then slapped me full on across the face. My eyes watered and my head rocked against the floor. I squinted up at his ugly face as he levelled the gun right at me.

  This was it.

  All the fighting. All the running. All the hiding… It all led to this.

  “Say bye-bye.” He grinned, blood dripping into his mouth and giving his teeth a sickly outline.

  And then he shot me.

  Liam

  Outside, a blizzard was raging. Inside me was far much worse. I shoved out the back door, letting the weather pummel my clothes, body, and skin.

  All I could think of was Bellamy, praying I wasn’t too late.

  My snowmobile was parked near the building, the snow coming down so fast it was partially covered. I didn’t feel the icy cold penetrate into my bare hands or the moisture from the snow soaking through my jeans.

  Snow flew up behind
me as I gunned the sled forward, bursting through the small bank that formed while it was parked.

  The headlights barely cut through the arctic blast.

  It didn’t matter.

  I would drive across this resort blind and still get there. I didn’t have a choice.

  Bellamy

  I waited for the pain. For the blinding white light everyone says offers you a welcome into eternity.

  None came.

  I lay there cringing and anticipating.

  The weight of the intruder’s body was no longer over me, and I couldn’t understand. Terrified to lie there, terrified to get up, I made a choice.

  Squinting open one eye, I peered up. The only thing I noted was the crackling of the fire and the sounds of the vicious blizzard raging outside.

  Sitting up, I pressed a hand to my head, fighting back a wave of dizziness. A weight across my legs sent fear shooting up my spine. I gasped and looked down.

  My killer was sprawled there, half of him still on me, the other half bleeding out all over the floor. I stared numbly… So much blood. The thick, sticky substance spread toward me, offering me a taste of death.

  Shuddering, I lunged back, near hysterical, trying to shove him off my lower half.

  He shot me.

  I saw the gun. I heard it explode.

  So why was I still here and he the one bleeding?

  Movement near the back door finally caught my notice. Spidey was standing there, menacing and undisguised, a large black gun gripped tightly in his hand. I swear it was still smoking from the shot he’d just taken.

  “You.” I gasped, scrambling backward, finally free of the dead body. “Y-you, don’t you work for the same side?” I stuttered, glancing at the man he just killed.

  He smirked, barely even flicking a glance at the life he’d just robbed. “The only person killing you is me.”

  “Well, that’s not a healthy thing to be obsessed over,” I blurted out.

  Oh my God. I was losing my mind.

  He threw back his head and laughed. It was a sound that would haunt my days and nights. As if to punctuate his vileness, a large gust sent more snow into my kitchen, the white powder creating a cloud at his back.

  A horrible cracking sound cut through all the terror and demise in the room, and the house nearly shook when a huge branch outside the living room window broke off a tree and dropped to the ground. A few of the small branches growing off the side scratched the window on the way down, making an eerie sort of scream.

  “Must have been the weight of all that snow,” I mumbled as if somehow that was relevant or even mattered to what was happening.

  “It was fun to play, but the games are over,” Spidey intoned and took a step closer.

  I sprang into action toward the closet and my gun. I slipped in the pooling blood and fell hard, shrieking because the sticky, metallic liquid seeped into my clothes and clung to me as if it too was trying to pull me into death.

  I forced my way up, a strange sucking sound following, and dove into the closet. My hand closed around the case, and hope surged inside me. Spidey chose that second to haul me back, one arm wrapped around my middle.

  I clung to the case, but the gun fell out as I moved, leaving me with a useless hunk of plastic. Feeling like I had a second chance here, I swung the case back and hit him in the side of the head. I fell onto the floor, but he instantly gripped me again.

  I struggled still, but the sound of an engine cut through.

  Both Spidey and I paused, listening to the noise as it grew closer and closer.

  I knew the sound. It was Liam’s snowmobile. The one he drove to the resort just this morning. Somehow he knew I was home. Somehow he knew I was in trouble.

  But, oh my God, now he would be in trouble, too.

  “No!” I screamed and kicked, getting loose and diving for the gun.

  I picked it up and stood, pointing it right at the man who had caused me hell for so long.

  He chuckled. “You even know how to use that?”

  I didn’t take my eyes off him when I removed the safety and cocked it.

  “Touché.”

  I flicked a glance at the large scar on the side of his neck from when I stabbed him with the pen. I’d say my choice in weapon was much better this time.

  “Bellamy!” Liam yelled. His voice carried through the wind and inside the house. He burst through right after. I couldn’t see him from my position, but I heard.

  Spidey glanced at me and smirked. The gun he had pointed directly at me swung away. “No!” I roared and threw myself at him.

  The gun went off right before I slammed into him, and we both went down. He started to laugh, a sound that could melt the blizzard.

  I shoved off him and turned to see Liam on the ground, flat on his back, unmoving.

  Liam

  Well, that fucking hurt.

  Still, I’d take another and another of those damn flesh-ripping bullets if that meant they stayed out of Bells.

  “Liam!” she cried. I could hear her scuffle with Spidey. “Liam!”

  The raw fear and grief in her voice was enough to mute the pain and allow me to sit up.

  “Bells,” I rasped, putting a hand to my shoulder where the bullet cut through me on its way out the door. “I’m okay.”

  She cried and started toward me.

  Behind her, Spidey rose like some kind of phoenix from the ashes.

  “No!” I roared and leapt up.

  Bellamy spun and fired off a shot, knocking the bastard onto his ass. He sprawled out on the living room floor, and Bellamy rushed to my side.

  “You’re shot!” She gasped, her hand hovering over me.

  “What the hell happened?” I asked as blood leaked through my fingers.

  “Sit down!” She fretted. “Sit down!”

  I dropped onto a nearby barstool. “Cops are on the way.”

  “How did you know?” she asked, rushing to get a tea towel from beside the sink.

  “Charlie.”

  “He’s okay?” She whimpered. Her face was swollen, and there was a bruise forming on her temple.

  “He’s okay.” I assured her, trying to pull her into my arms.

  She resisted and pushed the towel into my shoulder, making me wince.

  “They’re dead,” she murmured. “They’re dead.” It was almost as though she were reassuring herself.

  “They’re…?”

  Bellamy stepped out from in front of me, glancing across the room. I saw the second body then, and my heart nearly stopped.

  “Liam?” a familiar voice called. Stomping up the deck stairs drew my attention. I glanced out the wide-open door and squinted through the angry falling snow.

  “Dad!”

  “I saw you racing out of the resort and heard you yell for the police.” He stormed inside, his eyes widening when he saw Bellamy holding a towel against my shoulder.

  “You’re shot!”

  “He needs a hospital!” Bellamy fussed, swaying on her feet.

  “Dear God!” Dad swore, reaching for her. “What the hell has happened?”

  A wheeze brought all our heads around. Spidey was on his feet, looking like the walking dead with a literal hole in his chest and blood pouring out by the second. He swayed, his eyes glazed over. But he smiled.

  And lifted the gun.

  “No!” I yelled, reaching for Bellamy.

  “No!” she screamed and pushed me back so hard that I slid backward off the fucking barstool.

  The gun went off, and my life condensed into painfully slow seconds.

  I hit the ground as Bells spun toward my father, trying to shove him back, too. He evaded her hands and leapt in front of us both.

  “Dad!” The sound was deep and drawn out as I screamed his name, almost as if I were underwater.

  The second the bullet slammed into him, he dropped to the floor, partially on top of me and Bellamy.

  Catapulting up, I bent over him, pressing my hands against his ch
est wound, tears already filling my eyes as he gasped and gurgled for breath.

  Sirens echoed outside, and bright emergency lights shone off the snow.

  “Hang on, Dad. Help is here. Don’t you die on me!” I screamed.

  His hand covered mine where I was pressing as hard as I could against his wound. “Son,” he rasped, barely audible.

  “Don’t talk. Save your strength.” I urged.

  “Bel-Bell—”

  I realized what he was trying to tell me. In my haste to make sure he was okay, I’d lost track of Bells.

  Another gun went off. It fired until the sounds of an empty clip echoed through the house.

  Bellamy

  I tried to protect them, both of them.

  Both of them had bullet holes. Both of them were weeping blood. I stood there staring down at the man I loved more than life as he pled with his father not to die. I thought of the baby growing inside me who almost had no chance at life.

  The grief and horror was so overwhelming I felt a part of me completely shut down. Sound dimmed out, leaving the humming echo of silence everywhere around me.

  I turned, staring at where Spidey had fallen to his knees, gasping for breath as blood dripped from his lips. He raised his weapon one more time, pointing it at me…

  I snapped.

  Marching forward, I stared down the barrel of his pistol as a cough wracked his body. I kicked the gun out of his hand, and it skittered across the floor. My weapon was lying near my feet, right where it had fallen when I tackled him.

  We both saw it at the same time, but I was faster.

  I picked it up and took aim.

  Spidey smiled.

  I shot him over and over. I shot him until there were no bullets left, but I kept on pulling that trigger.

  If I could, I would kill him a thousand times over.

  Warmth I didn’t even know existed anymore enveloped my side. A hand much larger than my own wrapped around and pulled the gun from my grasp. My arm fell as though it weighed a hundred pounds, and I stared down at the man I’d known as Spidey.