Night Chill

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Night Chill Page 4

by Jeff Gunhus


  He was reluctant to let the stranger out of his sight but the girls screams were too much to bear. Quickly, he turned his head to make sure they were just scared and not hurt somehow. “You girls all right?” he called out. Becky and Sarah looked terrified, but unharmed. Jack relaxed a little. Maybe he was over-reacting. Chances are the stranger was just trying to help. This wasn’t California. It wasn’t so odd that someone would go out of their way to help out on a stormy night. And he knew Albert James had put him in a weird place emotionally. Satisfied the girls were fine, he turned back to face the man, ready to apologize. “Listen, thanks but—”

  The man was gone.

  Jack spun around. He didn’t see him anywhere. Then a voice came from the other side of the car, across the hood on the passenger’s side. “Pretty girls you have there. Very pretty.”

  Soaking wet, Jack still felt the hair rise up on the back of his neck. All the tension returned. “Listen buddy. I think it’s best if you get out of here. Maybe you’re trying to help out, but you’re scaring my kids.”

  The stranger leaned back to look through the Jeep’s rear window, then back at Jack. “Scaring them? Or scaring you?”

  “Look, just get out of here. All right?”

  “These girls don’t have anything to worry about from me.” The man rubbed the hood of the car with the palms of his hands. “I want to be their friend. Especially the little one. She’s very special. Sarah. That’s it, isn’t it? Little sweet Sarah?”

  “Get the hell out of here right now,” Jack yelled over a thunder clap. Jack had only been in one fight as an adult but if the car hadn’t separated them he would have taken a swing at the bastard in front of him.

  The man slapped the hood of the car in a slow beat. “Bam, bam, badda, bam, bam,” he murmured as he thumped out a rhythm, his eyes locked with Jack’s, a grin spread across his lips. “Feel helpless Jack? You don’t mind if I call you Jack, do you?”

  “How the hell do you know our names? Who are you?”

  “Oh, I know more than that about you. I know what you dream about at night. I know the secret you keep from California. That dark detail about yourself you don’t want anyone else to know.”

  “I don’t know what—”

  “Jack, you don’t really think you can stop the devil, do you?”

  Jack froze. “What did you say?”

  But the man wasn’t listening. He continued to beat out a rhythm on the hood, striking the car harder with each beat. Badda, bam, bam. He paused and held both fists out toward Jack. “Let’s find out, shall we?” His fists crashed into the hood. BADDA, BAM, BAM.

  On the last beat, he ducked down behind the car and was gone.

  “Shit.” Jack scrambled into the car and shut the door. He dug at the controls on the armrest to make sure the doors were locked. They were. He looked across to the passenger side. The door shook from the man tugging on it. The girls screamed. Jack dug his hand into his pocket, desperate for his keys. Nothing. He looked on the floor, on the seat. He pressed his face against the window and looked on the ground outside. They weren’t there. When did he have them last?

  Dreading what he would see, he raised his head to look through the windshield at the building in front of him. There, on the ground next to the payphone, were the keys to the car.

  ELEVEN

  Jack beat his fists into the steering wheel. He had searched everywhere in the car he could think for the spare key. Nothing. He looked back up at the keys on the concrete not more than thirty feet from him. He must have dropped them when he first saw the man next to the car. The girls choked back on their sobs, more scared by their dad’s outburst than anything. He noticed the silence in the back seat and turned around in his seat to face the girls. “Hey, easy now. I didn’t mean to scare you. Everything’s O.K.”

  Becky spoke first. “Who is that man?”

  “Listen, that man was probably someone who doesn’t have a home and he was caught in the rainstorm. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone.”

  Sarah whispered something. Jack leaned toward her. “What did you say, sweetie?”

  She didn’t answer him but just stared out of the window, shaking her head slowly.

  “Sarah, honey. It’s O.K. Talk to me.”

  The little girl kept looking out the window. She whispered, “No, I don’t want to.”

  Jack was confused. “You don’t want to talk to me?”

  Sarah turned away from the window. “Not you Daddy. I wasn’t talking to you.”

  Jack leaned into the back seat to look out of her window. There was nothing there. “What do you mean, sweetie. Who were you talking to?

  “The man. I was talking to the bad man.” Before Jack could say anything she turned to him and whispered. “And you’re wrong Daddy. He does want to hurt us. Especially you.”

  “Sarah, honey, that’s not true. Why would you say that?”

  “But it is true, Daddy.” Her eyes welled up with tears as she pointed out the window. “The bad man just told me so. He said he’s gonna take me with him. Is it true, Daddy? Is he going to take me?”

  “No honey. It’s not true.”

  “He said I should open the door or I’d end up like Melissa. Who’s that, Daddy? Who’s Melissa?”

  For a few seconds all other noise faded from the world. The only sounds Jack heard were his own breath and the blood pounding in his temples. He stared at Sarah trying to understand how those words could have come from her mouth. Becky stared at her little sister and then back at her dad, her eyes wide. Thunder tore through the sky above them, so close that it felt like an earthquake. The girl’s squealed and Jack jumped in his seat.

  “All right, we’re getting out of here. Girls, listen. I left the keys on the pay phone over there. I have to go get them.”

  “Noooo. Don’t leave us here.”

  “I’ll be right back. I promise. The car will be locked. No one can get in.”

  “I want to stay with you,” Becky pleaded.

  “Don’t leave us here.”

  Jack looked at his terrified girls and then back to the pay phone. He could be there and back in half a minute. If he took the kids with him it would take a lot more time and leave them all exposed.

  He hadn’t seen the stranger since he tried to force the passenger door open more than five minutes ago. Maybe he realized there was a problem when Jack didn’t start the car right away. He felt a surge of panic. What if the man saw the car keys on the ground by the payphone? He’d be able to open any door. Jack wasn’t worried about fighting the man, but if the stranger had a gun, or even a knife, there would be no contest. The man could shoot him through the window if he had a gun.

  If he kills me, what will he do to the girls?

  Jack knew he had to get them out of there. Waiting in the car was not an option.

  “I’ll be right back, girls.” He checked to make sure the man wasn’t crouching outside. Nothing. Blocking out his daughters’ screams, he threw open the door and burst out into the storm.

  TWELVE

  The parking lot was an ominous landscape of hiding places and unknown dangers. The storm-wracked trees next to the street-lights cast erratic shadows like dark birds flying on damaged wings. Jack sprinted toward the pay phone. He slowed only to glance over his shoulder to look for the man. Nothing. Only shadows

  Jack reached the phone and snatched the keys off the ground. He was about to turn back to the car when he saw the phone hanging off the hook. He froze. The new option dangled there in front of him. He looked back to the car, then to the phone. He didn’t want to just run away from this man, he wanted him caught. Besides, the call would only take a second.

  Jack lunged forward, grabbed the phone and slammed it back into place. He lifted it up and jabbed his finger into the keypad. 9-1-1. The dial tone disappeared and the phone clicked through the relays. “C’mon. C’mon.”

  He switched the receiver to his other ear so he could twist around to look back at the car. The dome light was
on and he saw the blurry outline of the girl’s sitting in the back.

  No sign of the stranger.

  Where is the Goddamn operator?

  The phone continued to click.

  His eyes shifted to the far corner of the parking lot. A dim light twinkled through the rain. He hadn’t noticed it before. Then headlights came on and started to move toward the rest area exit. Jack breathed easier. The car must belong to the stranger. He was leaving. It was over.

  Then the car stopped. The rain slowed for a moment and Jack could hear the car’s motor across the parking lot. The driver was revving it hard, over and over.

  “Oh God.” As the words stumbled out of Jack’s mouth, the driver engaged the clutch and the car’s wheels spun on the wet asphalt. Once the tires found traction, the car bore down on the Jeep, engine whining.

  Jack tore off across the lot, screaming at his daughters. “Get out. Get out of the car!”

  The car closed the space. It was going too fast. He would never make it in time.

  “Becky. Sarah. Get out of the car!”

  The rear side door opened on the opposite side from the approaching car. Through the windshield he saw Becky pulling her sister by her jacket. Finally, they tumbled out of the car and started to run.

  As the girls cleared the door, the incoming car turned hard to the left, its rear tires losing traction. The car’s back bumper crashed into the rear panel of the Jeep in a grinding screech of metal on metal. Sparks flashed then disappeared in the rain. The stranger kept the accelerator down and the wheels spun again. In the seconds it took before the tires found purchase on the asphalt, the car trunk car popped open.

  Jack’s wiped the rain away from his eyes. He could have sworn he saw a face staring at him from the truck of the car, and thought his mind was playing tricks on him in the stress of the moment.

  He staggered forward a few steps and stopped.

  Jesus, it was a face.

  The face of a girl tied up in the back of the stranger’s car. A young girl, not more than a teenager, with duct tape stretched across her mouth, blood covering her shirt, her body twisted into a grotesque fetal position. The image lasted only a couple of seconds. The tires grabbed, the stranger’s car surged forward, and inertia forced the trunk closed.

  Jack stood frozen in place and watched as the car sped out of the parking lot and disappeared into the storm. He had to do something. It had happened so fast he couldn’t tell if the girl had moved. Still, somehow he was sure she girl was alive. Her eyes had begged him for help. And people didn’t look scared when they were dead.

  He cried out as something ran into him from behind and wrapped itself around his leg. He reached down to defend himself, and felt something soft and smooth. It took a second to register: the texture of children’s jackets. Becky and Sarah. They were hugging his legs and crying.

  He knelt down and scooped the girls into his arms and held them. Their hug lasted only a few moments while the image of the girl in the trunk forced its way back into Jack’s brain. “All right, girls. Back in the car. Quick now.” They obeyed him without hesitation, needing no urging to get away from the parking lot as fast as possible.

  A minute later they were on the road. The girls were silent in the back seat, strapped into their car seats, too afraid to do anything but whimper. Jack looked in the rearview mirror and watched Becky reach across to her sister and run her fingers through her hair. He smiled. It was what their mother did to comfort them when they were sick or scared.

  Tail-lights appeared on the road ahead, one red, one white where the rear bumper was smashed. The stranger’s car.

  Jack flipped open the cell phone and dialed out. Seconds later it beeped and an error message appeared on the LCD panel, ‘Signal Faded.’

  What now, Jack? What the hell are you going to do now?

  When he looked up from the phone, the tail-lights were gone. Jack didn’t remember a curve in the road here and there were no off ramps either. Still, the road ahead of him was pitch black, as if the stranger’s car had disappeared into a tunnel. Jack slowed to a crawl and squinted through the rain spattered windshield. There were steep ditches on either side of the highway so the man couldn’t have turned. The windows started to fog up and he realized that his breathing was too quick and shallow. He needed to calm down. He reached up with the sleeve of his shirt to wipe off the fog on the window in front of him.

  As he wiped the condensation away, he saw the car out of the corner of his eye sitting on the side of the road, its lights turned off.

  As soon as Jack was past, the headlights came on and the car swerved onto the road behind him. In a matter of seconds, Jack had gone from being the hunter to the hunted.

  Jack gripped the wheel and accelerated. The Jeep reacted and surged forward but the stranger’s car already had momentum and bore down on them. The rearview mirror blazed with the approaching headlights. It was right on his bumper.

  The girls screamed with the first hit from the car. Jack steered to the right, careful not to overcorrect on the slippery road.

  The stranger pulled alongside and swerved into them.

  Jack felt the blow on the door next to him.

  Sparks flew as the cars ground into each other as they sped down the road side-by-side.

  Jack stepped on the brakes, the ABS system controlling the deceleration on the wet highway.

  The stranger didn’t react fast enough and his car continued down the highway.

  Once Jack was clear of the car, he accelerated again to stay behind the stranger’s car.

  He wasn’t going to let him out of his sight again.

  The stranger’s car lurched to the right once the Jeep decelerated, but soon corrected itself. A second later, red light filled the Jeep’s windshield.

  The car had locked up its brakes.

  Jack didn’t have time to react.

  The Jeep smashed into the car’s back fender.

  Screams erupted again from the back seat.

  The force from the collision ripped open the car’s trunk. Jack lost sight of the road as something landed on his windshield with enough force to shatter the safety glass into a spiraling web of cracks.

  Oh Jesus, not again. Not like before.

  Jack tried to turn but the cars’ bumpers were caught together. Then he saw it. In the lower corner of the window, where the windshield was still intact, was a face.

  The girl from the trunk.

  Her body, thrown from the trunk by the impact, was draped across the windshield,.

  And she was alive.

  Her eyes stared at him through the glass.

  Full of pain.

  Full of terror.

  Jack cried out.

  Then the face was gone.

  The world turned on its end and gravity ceased to exist. His girl’s screams mixed with the whine of metal twisting in on itself. Jack heard a muted explosion and felt pressure over his chest and face. And then darkness.

  THIRTEEN

  Jack slowly opened his eyes, wincing at the room’s raw light. Lauren sat on the edge of the bed, holding his hand. Jack figured she hadn’t slept all night but God she still looked fantastic. A youthful thirty-nine, not even the hint of a wrinkle appeared around her blue eyes. Her physique had survived two pregnancies thanks to a rigorous running and regular yoga schedule. She could put most men to shame on any endurance course.

  This afternoon, though, she looked like she had endured her limit. She let go of Jack’s hand, walked down to the end of his bed and pulled his chart. As she studied it a nurse walked in pushing a food tray. When she saw Lauren she shook her head impatiently, “I told you to stop messin’ with that chart.”

  Lauren looked up at the nurse. She still wasn’t used to the informality of the hospital here. “Just checking. You know…” her voice trailed off.

  “He’s fine. Just look at him. A little cut on the head won’t hurt his pretty little face.” The nurse turned on her sassy voice and gave Jack an apprai
sing look, “I’m telling you suga’, he’s fine.”

  Jack clapped his hands. “You tell her, Janice. I’m ready to get out of here.”

  The light above the phone on the wall lit up. Lauren pointed to Jack. “You behave.” Then she turned to Janice, “And you. Don’t let me walk in here and find you giving him a sponge bath.” She smiled, “He’s a smooth talker, so watch out.”

  Lauren picked up the phone. “Yes, this is Doctor Tremont.” She paused. “All right, I’ll be right down.” She turned to Jack. “It seems that our daughters are fighting over what cartoon to watch. Becky thinks she’s in control because she has the cast on her arm, but Sarah doesn’t seem to agree.”

  Jack grinned. “It’s amazing how fast everything gets back to normal.”

  “Thank God for air bags and safety seats.”

  Jack noticed the catch in her voice and knew his wife had just pictured what might have happened if they hadn’t been so lucky in the crash. He had done it a thousand times over the past twelve hours. “Hey, Lauren.” She looked up and he saw tears in her eyes. “We’re all O.K.”

  She came over and hugged him. Janice turned away to give them privacy, but she could not help sneaking a look the warm scene with a smile. Lauren let go and headed out of the room. “Now I’m off to make peace with the sisters. And I thought being a doctor was hard. Remember Janice, no sponge bath. No matter what he tells you.”

  As Lauren left the room, Jack heard men’s voices in the hallway. They were arguing about something but he couldn’t make out the words. Lauren walked back in the room followed by Hugh Janney, Prescott City’s sheriff, and one of his deputies. They stood at the foot of his bed in an uncomfortable silence.

  “So,” Jack said, leaning forward. “Was she dead?”

  Sheriff Janney cleared his throat. “No Mr. Tremont, she wasn’t dead.”

  “Thank God.” Jack lay back in the bed. “Is she here? In this hospital?”

  Janney looked down at the floor and then over to the deputy. “Mr. Tremont, I’m not sure how to tell you this.” The sheriff ran a hand across his chin and then rubbed the back on his neck. Finally, he looked up and met Jack eye to eye. “We looked everywhere you told us. As far as we can tell, this girl you told us about doesn’t exist.”

 

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