Bitter Cold

by J. Joseph Wright

  “Isn’t this a lot better than worrying about some silly snow monster?”

  She swept her tongue down his chest. He rolled his eyes to the top of his skull and sighed up at the tinted Plexiglas skylights.

  A dark finger slid across the roof, casting a thin shadow, running the width of the small outbuilding. He blinked. Had to be something in his eye. Another narrow, black band stretched across. He jerked, sitting up and pushing his wife with his knees. She slipped backward, hitting her head on the opposite side of the tub. The water sloshed in a quick surge.

  She coughed, her hair dripping. “Damn it! That hurt!”

  “You all right, honey? Damn, I didn’t mean to do that, I just—”

  “You what? You don’t want to fool around? Is that it? You don’t think I’m sexy anymore?”

  “No, no, no. That’s not it. I mean, yes. I do think you’re attractive—more than attractive. It’s just,” he looked up. No sign of the thin, black strings.

  Carrie grumbled. “What’s going on?”

  He chuckled nervously. “Damnest thing, really. I thought I just saw…oh, never mind.”

  “Never mind? You kicked me! What the hell are you doing, Doug? I want to know!”

  “I thought I saw something on the gazebo,” he pointed to the roof.

  “What do you mean, some kind of bug or something? A spider? My big, strong man’s afraid of a spider?”

  “Of course it wasn’t a spider. It was some kind of…shadow. Scared the hell out of me.”

  She squinted. “Don’t start this shit. There are so many other things I’d rather be doing right now,” she leaned and kissed him, pushing her tongue in his mouth.

  “Huh,” he smacked his lips when she released him. “Maybe I let my imagination run wild,” he checked the gazebo one more time, then put his head against hers. “I don’t know. Jeff sure was convincing. The way he described that…whatever it was he saw.”

  “Whatever it was he said he saw,” she sighed. “Big difference. Now let’s stop talking about that. Too many memories,” she pressed a button on the stereo. A saxophone played a lazy, sensuous tune. She turned to him again, her eyes low and narrow, signaling him to come to her. He lifted one corner of his mouth, then the other, grinning wide.

  “It must have been a tree branch. Can you believe that? You’re right. He’s got me all worked up and spooked over nothing.”

  She slid through the water and pressed her finger to his lips. “Shhh.”

  As they came together, he detected the slightest movement outside along the deck railing. Carrie had her hands on the sides of his face and they locked in a kiss, so he couldn’t see much, only a rippling motion near the stairway. Then it reached for the side of the gazebo. He didn’t want to get trapped in the same paranoid thinking as before. He knew Jeff’s story had crazy written all over it. Still, the shadows seemed strange, out of place, forming in odd, unnatural directions.

  Then it shot toward the hot tub, a slender tip speeding out of sight below. He flinched, pushing his wife aside once more. She had the prescience to catch herself this time. That didn’t stop her from losing her temper.

  “Fuck, Doug! That does it, I’m outta here!”

  She gathered her towel, stood up, and wrapped herself. Focusing his attention through the window, he barely noticed her.

  “It’s out there,” he moved his head side-to-side. The candle glare hindered his vision. He snuffed as many out as he could.

  “I can’t believe this. Now he’s turned you into a psycho. Great. What next?” she picked up a bottle and swilled the last gulp. “Goodnight!”

  “Don’t step out of the hot tub!” Doug slipped, reaching for her. She pushed, but he held her and forced her to stay in. He’d seen it, in the snow, coming toward them, using the shade as cover. “Oh shit! Oh SHIT!” he blew out the rest of the candles and twisted in the other direction, hoping to get a better look.

  “Damn it, Doug! Let me go! This isn’t funny!”

  “I’m not kidding, Carrie. Jeff was right. Something’s out there. It’s on the deck right now.”

  “Right now, huh? On the deck?”

  He breathed strong and quick, looking into her eyes. “Yes. It’s out there. I swear.”

  She responded with her own serious face. “Then show me.”

  Trembling, he pointed to a deep, dark area behind two snow-covered square planters. She laughed.

  “What the hell? A shadow? You gotta be kidding me. I mean, seriously. Really, if you thought you’d scare me with that, then you still don’t know me after thirty years.”

  He peered harder, certain the thing was out there somewhere. The overhead floodlights on the second story covered most of the back patio, creating sharp areas of contrast where they didn’t penetrate. Each one of the poorly lit areas was suspect, but in none of them did he find what he’d seen only seconds earlier. No irregularities. No long, black tentacles projecting like fingers. Aside from the heavy snow accumulation, everything seemed normal.

  “I saw something, Carrie. I swear I did. It’s out there. I don’t know what the hell it is, but I saw it.”

  She let her towel slip off, laying it on the tub’s edge. Part of it soaked in the water. “If this is your way of trying to get me excited, it worked. Just knock it off already and get over here.”

  He disregarded his wife’s nude invitation.

  “That’s it,” she flung her towel around her chest. “I’m done. See you inside.”

  She stepped out of the spa and slipped her flip flops on her feet. She looked at him one last time. “You can stay out here with your damned monsters. A twelve-year-old. That’s what I’ve got. Another kid.”

  “Get back in here!” he held out his hand.

  “No! You’ve never been able to tell me what to do. What makes you think you can start now?”

  “Come on, Carrie!” he searched the snow. “I’m not fucking around, here. Now, please, just get back in the tub. For me, please.”

  She shook her head, glaring. “You really think I’ll fall for it a second time. This isn’t funny at all.”

  She walked around the gazebo, disappearing behind the corner.

  “Carrie, NO!” he splashed to the edge, pushing his head out the open door. He heard a noise somewhere outside. Cracking, grinding. The wind shifted, bringing a sour smell. It turned his stomach, burning his nasal passageways, dulling his brain. He coughed hard, gasping for unpolluted air.

  A frantic shriek sent sharp, frosty needles under his skin. He only had time to watch Carrie slide by on her back, surrounded by what looked like an oil slick in the snow. Only this stuff looked alive, with swaying edges, a rippling and bubbling surface, and long, flexible limbs, flickering like snakes tongues.

  Crying, she reached her hand. He shot out of the tub and snatched it. He stared into her eyes. Pure dread. Her mouth dropped open. Gurgling from the back of her throat, she spit up some blood and looked at it. Her horror deepened.

  “Don’t you let me go,” her voice sounded weak and thin. “You hear me, don’t let go!”

  As she inched further below the surface, the part of her body above the black pool convulsed. His stomach twisted, exposing its disdain for the wretched smell. Charbroiled feces and burnt bone. He imagined the stink of hell. This had to be it.

  “Carrie! Hold on!” his fists became iron clamps around her fingers. “I’ll get you out!”

  He steadied his weight and pulled, but had no leverage sitting naked in the slippery tub. So instead of dragging her toward him, he heaved himself toward her. Toward the creature.

  His skin felt hot when it came near the black snow. He could see the soft tissue in Carrie’s ankles. Bright red muscle, pearly white tendons. The strangest thing, though. Besides what she’d already coughed up, he saw no blood. It seemed to coagulate on contact with the thing’s digestive juices.

  Breathlessly, she spoke once more. “Doug, don’t let me die…please…”

  His body flushed with anxiou
s energy. He anchored in the spa, leaning his full weight, hooking his arms over the edge. One hard tug and she came out of the blackness. Only a little, though. She made her agony plain with a sickening moan. He examined her and gagged. Her legs below the knees had disappeared, her ankles shrunken to mere sticks, protruding bones the color of charcoal.

  Shivering, wincing, he tried to drive the nightmare aside. But he knew it had to be real. All too real. His wife had been attacked, and he needed to do anything and everything he could to stop it.

  He saw her life slipping away. The color in her brown eyes turned hazy, and her pupils drifted to some faraway place. Her throat gurgled again. Frothy blood surfaced on her lips. He held tight as her body lurched hard, pulling him onto the frozen ground. He felt her slipping out of his grip and screamed at her to hold on. She seemed to have nothing left, no strength, no will. He wouldn’t give up. He stood, unclothed, and watched the blackness drag Carrie to the stairs. Her eyes opened wide and she started breathing once more, coughing and spitting. She fixated on Doug.

  “Help me! Please!”

  Just like that, the monster swept her down the steps, across the lawn, and into a group of young pines. Without covering himself, he sprinted in pursuit. His feet felt on fire in the deep freeze. After a few more paces, they turned numb, as well as the rest of his body. He didn’t care if his balls froze off. Finding Carrie. That’s all he cared about.

  He followed the trail in the snow to the grove of Douglas-firs which marked the edge of the driveway. There the tracks stopped cold. He stopped, too, thinking he’d been lured into a trap. Then Carrie’s muffled cries made him even more frenzied.

  He pushed aside a series of low-lying branches, heavy with white powder. She had to be close. Under the trees, he got on his knees and scooped handful after handful, convinced he’d find her. He dug until he scratched dirt and snapped off a fingernail, leaving a speckled trail of blood. The searing pain didn’t slow him. Neither did the deep permafrost. He forced his fingers into the earth, knowing she was there.

  “Carrie! CARRIE!” he pounded at the ground, feeling his strength slipping away as the cold swelled his joints, making it almost impossible to flex his fingers or move his arms. Then he heard something above him. He stood quickly, thinking Carrie might have escaped into the branches.

  He looked up. Near the trunk he saw what he thought was her face, but something about her disturbed him. The look. The expression. She seemed gone.

  “NO!” he jumped and caught a limb. He couldn’t let the love of his life die alone, in the cold dark of night. He tried to pull himself up, but the branch snapped clean, dropping him into the deepfreeze. Humph! he landed on his butt, driving the air from his lungs. Gasping, he stood again, resolved to reach Carrie.

  He heard soft clicking, smacking, then more clicking.

  “Carrie?” his throat was scratchy. “Is that you? Baby, hold on! I’m coming to get you!”

  The tree rocked, sending down a shower of snow.

  “Doug,” a faint call from above pushed shivers through his dulled nervous system. “Doug, is that-is that you?”

  “Carrie!” he cleared his throat. “Carrie! Where are you!”

  Silence. The low rumble of the winter storm blowing through the forest. Doug stretched his neck, looking for his one and only, the only girl he’d ever truly loved. His high school sweetheart.

  “Carrie?” he spun around, praying he’d find her alive. Then he’d hurry her to the hospital. She’d be fine. Most likely she’d have to use a wheelchair. Maybe they’d be able to fit her with prosthetics. He didn’t care. Finding her alive, keeping her alive. That dominated his mind.

  Then he found her.

  “Carrie!”

  She leaned against the tree, sitting on a large branch ten feet up, chest heaving, head rolling. As she faced him, she opened her eyes. Then the snow near the upper limbs turned dark, spreading, infecting the pristine white with a deep, desolate blackness. It surrounded Carrie instantly, covering what remained of her decimated body up to her face. Her lips parted as she struggled to speak. He saw her silently mouth his name. Then the blackness enveloped her.

  “NO!” he clawed the bark, feeling a desperate ache like never before. In his struggle to climb the tree, he shook something loose. A burnt mass hit his shoulder, sizzling as it made contact with his skin. He cringed away and it landed with a deadened Thud! When he looked at it, his stomach tied into a knot, then convulsed, forcing its contents into his throat. No way, he thought. No way. He wanted to run. He had to get the hell out of there. But, Carrie. What about Carrie?

  With his foot, he nudged over the fleshy lump. His bowels shriveled as it rocked back and forth and he saw something shiny and metallic.

  A Gold earring. Carrie’s earring—and half of her ear!

  Head spinning, he felt his guts explode. Uncontrollable bursts shot from his throat. Hot, stinging, leaving his teeth gritty and bitter.

  For a second, he felt like giving up. Why go on with Carrie dead? Why continue? Then he thought about his children. They needed their father. So he decided to run. The only thing left to do. Carrie would have wanted him to fight for his own survival, just as he’d fought for hers. For the kids.

  He turned and nearly tripped over his own toes. Dizzy, disoriented, he stumbled to get his feet under him. Then, in front of his eyes, the snow clinging to an evergreen limb turned black, flowing fast, falling in bubbling bursts. The shadowy avalanche spread downward, widening while lengthening, displaying its full mass. When it finished, it covered the entire tree, spanning every spot previously filled by whiteness. It overtook the snow, taking its shape, only making it darker than the darkest corner of the coldest, furthest part of the universe.

  A clump of black snow hit his arm, scorching his bare skin with instant shock of unbearable heat. He cried out as the thing spread to his chest, the pain increasing exponentially. He felt the creeping lethargy of unconsciousness. Awareness set in. He had to get the hell out of there. Crouching, he crashed through a thick berm. The burning in his arm subsided as it hit the natural icepack, numbing the pain. Then his elation evaporated when the monster snatched him. He felt it plain as day, a quick clamp around his ankle.

  He screamed again, grasping at the snowy ground, his ankles searing. He felt flesh slipping from muscle, still he pulled, yanked, kicked, fought with all his strength. No way would he become a frozen dinner for this thing. Yet the thing begged to differ, painful proof nightmares did come true.

  Doug heard the dog’s collar, heard her whining. He didn’t have time to look. The dark entity fastened onto his legs so tight it felt they were about to snap. Overhead, in the tree, it sounded like a gigantic mouth opening, the gaping jaws of some hellish beast. He glanced up. The evergreen limb directly over him dripped with darkness. The tree looked evil, every inch pure black. A winter wonderland in hell. Sadie must have seen the creature. She let loose a raging outburst, barking and snarling. Doug widened his eyes as the dark being poised for the attack. Then it came. A large cluster broke free from the upper branches and tumbled onto him. Covering his head, he froze and burned at the same time. For one brief moment, he saw his wife, her hair floating about her face. She turned to him and smiled. By her side, holding her hand, was Eddy. He smiled, too, extending his tiny palm, fingers wide.

  “Come on, Daddy. We’ve been waiting for you.”

  FIFTEEN

  A frigid blast hit April’s face, a feeling she’d never get used to. She scanned desolate Highway 30. Snow had already covered most of the tire tracks, shrouding almost all evidence of the vicious vehicular attack.

  Her heart sank when Officer Jenkins, after surveying the area, shook his head and gave her the same disbelieving demeanor he’d presented earlier.

  “I don’t see anything out of the ordinary, Miss,” he swept his flashlight along the roadside. The red and blue emergency lights on top of his 4X4 cast his features in silhouette. Jeff had an electric camping lantern extended in front of
him.

  April toed the snow on the shoulder of the northbound lane. She twisted her ankle a little in a deep, distinct rut. “Over here!” she rubbed the top of her foot. “Here, look at this!”

  Jeff and Jenkins directed their lights to the ground simultaneously. Though rounded and smoothed by over an hour of wintry accumulation, clearly defined tire prints, a maze of them, cut deep and led to the ditch.

  “What?” Jenkins shrugged. “Looks like a couple of tracks to me. Could’ve been a plow for all I know.”

  “Look at them,” she pointed. “This is it. This is where it happened, come on,” she hurried to the guardrail.

  “Doesn’t look too awful bad to me,” the cop panned his light. “Are you sure this is the place?”

  She searched up and down the road. “The turnoff to Trojan is right there,” she said. “So, yes. Right here.”

  At the railing, she pointed into the misty grey, squinting, able to make out only indistinct shapes.

  Jenkins stood at the road’s edge, pointing his flashlight beam down the hillside, illuminating the rapid torrent of falling white flakes. “All I see is a stump. You wanna tell me what’s going on? Why are you two wasting the department’s time?”

  “How can you call a murder attempt a waste of time?” she squinted in the glare. “You guys in this county don’t care about the law?”

  Jenkins chuckled. “That’s a pretty outrageous claim, Miss. Charges like that have to be backed up with proof. Where’s your proof?”

  “What do you mean, where’s my proof,” she gestured for him to look down again. “Don’t you see it? My car’s down there. It has to be. You have to be able to see it.”

  “Lady, I’m not risking my life climbing down there just to confirm what I already suspect is true.”