A Cold Tomorrow

by Mae Clair

  “You were right about the psychic,” she said at last. “A few of my friends had gone to see her so I thought I’d give it a try. Kicks and giggles, that sort of thing.” She shrugged. The psychic had been a bust. Worse, she’d given up a date with Heywood Fuller to go, even though he probably would have ditched her, anyway. He’d only asked her out because he was on the rebound from his ex. The two were now happily married.

  “We were near the TNT when it happened. You were lying in the back seat, half asleep. I probably kept you out later than I should have.” No probably about it, but at least it had been a Friday night.

  She moved restlessly, conscious Katie hung on her every word. Paul Lynde’s voice drifted from the living room followed by Sam’s laughter. Uncle Arthur had dropped in on Bewitched.

  “I can still see it.” She tuned out the laugh track from the TV and the homey decorations of the kitchen, much like someone closing a door. An image of the sleek metallic craft grew in her mind. “It was silvery, but with an icy cast, and hovered a few feet above the trees. Round and kind of flat with a large light underneath. The light reminded me of an eye because it kept shifting about, casting a beam on the ground. There were other lights too—red and blue—on the side of the thing. I don’t know what it was, but it wasn’t a blimp, and it was far too low to be a plane. I hit the brakes and skidded off the road. That’s when the thing saw me.”

  Katie watched her intently. “Saw you?”

  Doreen Sue nodded. “It seemed that way. The light, or eye—whatever it was—shifted and the whole car was engulfed by a beam. The craft glided closer and hovered in front of the hood. It covered the entire roadway. I got out of the car, but don’t remember much other than staring up into the light. The next thing I knew, I was behind the wheel and the sky was empty. To this day, I swear it was some kind of alien spacecraft.” She rolled one shoulder, feeling self-conscious. “I know a lot of folks called me crazy and laughed when I told them, but I wasn’t the only one who reported seeing things back then. Some people wouldn’t talk about the stuff because they didn’t want to be laughed at. The ones who did talk were warned silent.”

  “Warned silent? By who?”

  “The Men in Black.”

  Katie stiffened. “Men in Black?”

  “That’s what we called them. I don’t know who they really were.” She took a sip of coffee. The liquid in the cup had started to cool, a speck of instant creamer clotted under the rim. The longing for a cigarette grew stronger. “They were all over Point Pleasant in those days—men in black suits, driving shiny black cars. Sometimes they said they were with the Air Force but no one believed it, and the Air Force denied any association. Folks were warned not to talk about the UFOs. Some even had their phones tapped. A friend of mine used to get calls the same time every night for a period of weeks. She’d hear a man talking in some weird guttural language. Words that made no sense, like she’d been hooked into a phone call in a foreign language. It was all so strange.”

  “I remember a man in a black suit.” Katie looked at her oddly as if trying to piece the memory together as she spoke. “I was outside your salon on the night the bridge collapsed, and he asked me where he could find you.”

  “I don’t remember talking to any of those fellas, but I think they snooped in the house a few times. It was always when you kids were asleep or at school. I’d find things disturbed, like an open cupboard door or hear a rapping sound.” Doreen Sue swished her coffee in her cup. “We never found out who they were, or why they wanted everything about the UFOs kept hush-hush. Some people said the whole thing was connected to the Mothman.”

  “There was a man in black at the hotel today.” Katie obviously didn’t remember anything about nightly noises or finding items moved around, which was just as well. “He came in when Sarah and I were there, and warned us that people shouldn’t talk about the lights they’d seen.”

  Doreen Sue tightened her fingers around the ceramic handle of the mug. “It’s happening again. Back then there were so many reports of weird lights, folks called it a UFO flap.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means there was a whole bunch of sightings right here in Point Pleasant.” Doreen Sue liked the idea of showing off her knowledge of otherworldly events, but hoped her daughter wouldn’t label her a weird conspiracy theorist like Jerome. “Back in ’66 and ’67, people used to hang out nightly looking for lights in the sky. I went up to Conway Road in the TNT a bunch of times, but never saw anything except for that night coming home from Ravenswood.”

  Katie nodded somberly, her expression distracted. Worried because she seemed focused elsewhere, Doreen Sue reached across the table and took her hand. “What are you thinking, honey?”

  Katie’s gaze shifted toward the living room and Sam. “I think I remember why I liked to draw.”

  Chapter 7

  A tranquil hush clung to the corridors of West Central Mental Health Institute.

  Most of the staff didn’t like working night shifts, but Nurse Brenner preferred the stillness. The hallway lights had been dimmed and patient rooms were dark. An occasional murmur or whimper disrupted the quiet as a restless sleeper battled troubling dreams, but for the most part silence ruled. Doors were shut at night, all rooms carefully secured.

  Nurse Brenner’s rubber-soled shoes squeaked softly against the vinyl floor as she patrolled the halls. As she neared Parker Kline’s room, an odd scratching sound drew her up short. She pressed her ear to the door.

  Nothing. Maybe she’d imagined the noise.

  Palming the keys on her belt, she located her master and slipped it into the lock. Inside, the room was dark, a sliver of light beneath the bathroom door the only brightness to pierce the shadows. A crackling sound intruded on the stillness as if someone had set a radio to the wrong frequency. The bed was empty, blankets balled at the foot.

  “Parker.” She rapped softly on the door to the bath.

  The static came again, interspersed with clicks. Puzzled, she tracked the source to a small table by the window. Earlier in the day she’d found Parker there, a collection of shaded and partially shaded papers scattered around him. The drawings were gone, but his radio sat near the back. In the space of two heartbeats, the faceplate exploded with light, and a loud burst of static blared from the speakers.

  Nurse Brenner jumped, her pulse accelerating with the speed of a freight train. Recovering quickly, she gripped the dial, but the button refused to budge, already locked in the off position. The jarring cacophony of noise and light died as abruptly as it started, plunging the room into near-black silence.

  Gooseflesh pimpled her arms.

  The crazy thing had to be operating off batteries. Of course. Floyd must have snuck in a few double-As during his last visit. Biting down on her bottom lip, she used her thumb to manipulate the rear compartment.

  Empty.

  Her heartbeat ratcheted higher, a trickle of cold sweat oozing down her neck.

  No power cord.

  How could the radio broadcast without power? “What in heaven is going on?”

  Light flared behind the dial and the tuning knob moved on its own. With a yelp of surprise, Nurse Brenner flung the radio onto the table.

  “You shouldn’t touch that,” a man said behind her. “He wouldn’t like it.”

  She whirled to find Parker silhouetted in the glow from the open bathroom. He’d been a docile patient the last two years, but there was something different about him tonight. A focused intensity that turned his gaze to steel.

  “Who wouldn’t like it?” Her voice was a hoarse whisper.

  Parker pointed to the opposite wall.

  Drawings. All of Parker’s drawings were tacked to the stark white surface.

  Blinding light burst from the paper squares, splintering outward like shockwaves from an earthquake. A dark crevice opened and swelled in the center until all that remained was sun-white nova and shadow. With a cry, Nurse
Brenner flung up an arm to shield her eyes. Something moved in the heart of that fissure, an unnatural presence tainted by ice.

  Nurse Brenner’s breath plumed in the air.

  “I’m sorry. I have to leave now.” Parker stepped around her.

  “No.” She gripped his arm, trying to restrain him.

  The darkness rushed forward, engulfing her in a frigid black cloud. Somewhere in the back of her mind, an unfamiliar voice warned her not to interfere. Still she clung to Parker, a rush of vertigo crashing over her in a chokehold. Her eyes rolled backward as the light-headedness became too much to bear. Her last conscious thought as she crumpled to the floor was that something not altogether human had entered the room.

  * * * *

  Katie breathed in the peaceful silence of her house. Sam was asleep in bed and darkness had fallen outside. The living room was quiet, the TV off. There was nothing to disturb her as she paged through the paperback Ryan had left. It wasn’t simply her desire to help Jerome that kept her riveted to his copy of UFO Sightings and Stories, but her own curiosity.

  As an eyewitness, it was easy to get caught up in the mythology of unidentified flying objects. Already she’d learned people who’d had encounters sometimes experienced behavioral changes, including fervent bursts of creativity. Some took to drawing, as if their mind worked on overload, unable to contain the input. One contactee compared it to being the recipient of a memory dump in another language.

  Noise.

  For Katie and Sam, that funnel of information had been expelled in a series of drawings filled with geometrical shapes. The language meant nothing to them, but others believed such outpourings could hold significance for an alien culture. She was certain the cloud Sam had seen was a UFO, but unless he brought it up, she wouldn’t prod for information. According to the book, some eyewitnesses preferred to forget. From personal experience, she knew the need to draw would fade, and the memory of that obsession would vanish with the desire.

  It isn’t uncommon for people who have seen a UFO to experience conjunctivitis afterward, she read in the book. The reddening and inflammation of the eyes can last anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. This phenomenon has been documented in over seventy percent of the cases of those claiming to have seen a UFO.

  Yet another indication Sam had seen something. And all those people at the hospital. Sam’s doctor had told her there had been a rash of outbreaks. Small wonder given the recent wave of UFO sightings.

  Katie couldn’t recall anything bad happening to her after the drive home from Ravenswood, but her mom said she’d had pinkeye in the past. And her mom had acted odd when she’d mentioned it in the ER. Almost as if she’d expected Katie to remember it as something out of the ordinary.

  The low rumble of a car engine intruded on her thoughts.

  Probably nothing, only a vehicle passing outside. But after everything that had happened, she couldn’t help worrying Lyle might return to snoop around. Snapping the book shut, she stood and switched off the lights. She’d feel better if she took a look. If it really was Lyle, she’d confront him and set him straight.

  Grabbing a jacket from the closet, she tossed a glance over her shoulder. No sign that Sam had heard anything. Hopefully, he’d sleep through the night. Palming a heavy-duty flashlight, she stepped onto the front porch. A short distance down the street, the headlights of an unmarked van flashed to life.

  Katie muttered a curse.

  The creep was back. Well, he wasn’t going to toy with her.

  “Hey, you.” She sprinted across the yard. “You’re not frightening me so you might as well cut it out.” Before she could get close enough to glimpse the driver, the van sped down the road with a squeal of tires. This time, she managed to catch the license plate.

  West Virginia tags, 4ZX87Q.

  “Got you now.” Repeating the numbers, she thrust her hands into her pockets, hoping to find something to jot them down.

  A scrap of paper.

  She hurried back into the house, careful not to be too noisy as she rustled through the kitchen drawer for a pen. Sam’s bedroom was just down the hall. Two nights in a row the mystery van had staked out her house. It was time to do something about the repeated lurking before something happened to involve Sam. She jotted the number down, then sank into a chair and dropped her head into her hands.

  Why couldn’t Lyle leave her alone? Maybe she should have Sam stay with her mom temporarily. Her mother would love the company. She might have made mistakes in the past raising her own girls, but she was a doting and wonderful grandmamma to Sam. The more Katie thought about it, the more it made sense. Even better, if she tracked down Darrell Mason, she’d probably trip over Lyle in the process. Rather than run, she’d confront him and put an end to his silly games. In the meantime, she’d call Ryan and have him trace the van number as proof Lyle or one of his cronies was trying to scare her.

  As she picked up the paper and headed for the phone, Katie spied unfamiliar handwriting on the back. Halting abruptly, she sucked down a breath.

  The last time she’d worn the jacket was when she’d given it to Jerome to block the cold.

  * * * *

  Caden made West Central his first stop of the morning. Almost eight o’clock, it was clear Nurse Brenner had endured a long night. For someone he’d never seen rattled, she appeared noticeably tense.

  “You should have been here last night,” she accused.

  He had the feeling she wouldn’t appreciate hearing he hadn’t been on duty, and only learned about Parker’s situation an hour ago. “I understand Deputies Morris and Gardner took the call. I got the preliminary information from them.”

  “I wanted you to come.” No questioning the reproach this time.

  “You told me to stay away.”

  The flinty look in her eyes spoke volumes. Caden was thankful for the counter surrounding the nurses’ station, which separated them.

  “I’m here now.” He shouldn’t have to point out the obvious. “Why don’t you tell me what happened in your own words?”

  “Fine. But you need to see Parker’s room.” Stepping away from the counter, she motioned crisply for him to follow down the hall. Unlike the first time Caden had visited, the doors to individual patient rooms were shut and secured.

  “A precaution,” Nurse Brenner explained, noticing his glance. Her voice softened slightly, less sour. “Anything out of the ordinary upsets the balance of the entire floor. With the officers here last night and this morning, most everyone knows something unusual has taken place. We’re trying to keep the nature of that under wraps. If patients learn Parker escaped, it could cause a chain reaction with others trying to escape too.”

  “I understand we have video footage.” That would go a long way in determining how Parker managed to pull off what should have been an impossible feat.

  “Yes. The film was given to your department last night. As you can see we have cameras positioned throughout the hallways.” She pointed out a few as they walked, rectangular black boxes mounted close to the ceiling. “Parker was in the bathroom when I entered his room.”

  “And you went in because you heard a noise?”

  “I see you’ve read my statement. It sounded like radio static.”

  “Parker said the radio talks to him at night.”

  She bobbed her head, her expression grim. “I thought he was making it up. We allowed the transistor radio his father gave him, but it didn’t have a power cord.”

  “What about batteries?” He seemed to recall they weren’t allowed, either.

  “Not permitted because of the potential harm from the acid inside.” She scratched the bridge of her nose. “The radio was basically a prop for Parker’s enjoyment. It kept him calm. When I heard the crackling, I thought Floyd might have smuggled in a few batteries.” Pausing outside the door, she rested her hand on the knob and regarded him steadily. “I was wrong, Sergeant. I checked the compartment and it was emp
ty. I know it sounds impossible, but the dial lit up and the tuning knob moved on its own. I don’t know how Parker did it, but he must have wired it somehow. Otherwise…” She trailed off, uncertainty creeping into her gaze.

  Otherwise someone really was communicating with Parker through radio waves.

  Squaring her shoulders, Nurse Brenner took a deep breath. “That’s not all that happened. I, um…blacked out for a moment.” Nervousness crept into her voice. “When I came to, Parker was gone. It’s a mystery how he managed to bypass the security measures in the hospital.”

  Caden agreed. Even if Parker had Floyd’s help, which didn’t seem likely, neither father nor son was skilled enough to bypass an alarm system. “What made you pass out?”

  She rubbed her hands together, growing more flustered by the moment. “Perhaps I should show you.” Opening the door, Nurse Brenner motioned him inside and gestured at the adjacent wall.

  Caden drew up short. The shaded and partially shaded squares Parker had painstakingly drawn were now pieced together and plastered to the wall to form a life-size jigsaw puzzle. A puzzle in the shape of man.

  “What the hell?” He stepped closer. What had looked like random blocks of shading the last time he was here took artistic shape when placed in conjunction with others. Bit by bit, Parker had constructed the silhouette of a grinning man. “Had you seen this before last night?”

  Shaking her head, she inched slowly closer as if afraid the drawing would spring to life. “I didn’t tell anyone this. Not your deputies or anyone else.” She tugged the collar of her uniform, then clasped her hands together, plainly trying to work up the nerve to reveal something unsettling.

  “Take your time,” Caden said.

  She nodded gratitude. “It’s hard working in a place like this. You get cynical to the things people claim to see. Then last night…” She drew a steeling breath. “As crazy as it sounds, that whole wall lit up with light when I was in here…almost like it was burning. There was some kind of dark cavity in the center. I could sense something in there but couldn’t see it. Parker said he had to leave, and then I blacked out.”