She had moved her sleeping area and the large metal pot to a more central location, but kept her other supplies away, closer to the only exit. She didn’t want trip over anything every time she got up to pee in the middle of the night. The idea of falling down onto the hard concrete floor as she waddled, half-awake seemed rather unpleasant. The fact she had to use one of the large plastic bins her mother had filled with scraps of material as her toilet was bad enough. Adding injury to that insult was best avoided in her book. At least the material had its uses, right?
She sighed heavily and shuffled over to sit down among the many pillows and scraps of cloth she had forged into her bed. She placed the tarp she wore evenly around her so she could contain as much body heat near her skin as possible. Her eyes drifted into the blue-green flames emanating from the fire log she had ignited. Its’ lazy, fluttering and flowing fire danced before her eyes. She watched for a few minutes as its’ surface blackening about an inch, a necessary process, allowing it to give off heat.
Driven by great need, she asked herself again and again how she was going to find something to eat, something solid, or warm, to fill her belly and make the cramps go away. Where?
Crap, what the hell am I going to do?
Even though she knew the answer, she asked the question nevertheless, hoping there’d be some detail she had overlooked. Maybe there was something in the garage she’d missed. Maybe, if she just scouted around outside, within eyesight of her temporary dwelling, maybe there was something out there that was edible. It was worth a shot, right?
The wind shrieked as the thought crossed her mind. She knew there was nothing out there. Everything was frozen solid or buried waist high under the snow. There was nothing out there. This was the reality she would have to face. She would have to wait until the storm abated. She couldn’t take on step out there until the wind and the cold weakened, became less severe. There was no way she could survive out there long, minutes maybe, if that…
I’ll just have to pray the storm will weaken before I run out of energy bars. I will pray every hour on the hour for God to make the storm pass. Maybe, He will give me a chance, even a slim one. Maybe He will help me find something, anything, to eat. I will pray. I promise to be good. I will do everything right, like I’m supposed to. I will live the right kind of life. I will be a good person. I will give back. I will do whatever it takes! Just please, help me. I need food.
Yes, yes, I will do it. I will pray -.
That was when she heard it.
A sound that hadn’t come from her and it hadn’t come from the fire. It was a foreign. That shocked her into immobility, because it hadn’t come from within the garage. Rather, it had come from outside, just on the other side of the door. It had been brief, tentative, a pawing of sorts. Maybe it had come from the tips of someone’s fingernails as they scratched at the base of the wooden barrier barring the entrance to the garage.
Oh my god, is someone caught in the storm? was the thought as she leapt to her feet, her hand coming to her mouth. They’d be half frozen by now, covered in frost bite, almost on the verge of death. Oh, how horrible!
She took a few steps toward the door when it came again, two - no! - three distinct knocks at the bottom of the door, harder, a bit more insistent.
They must have fallen or dragged themselves over the ground. They’re lying before the door begging for me to open it. Oh, that means they’re hurt! They can’t walk! What am I going to do?
She glanced around frantically, looking for something she could use to drag the person inside, not really thinking all she had to do was use her hands. The thought of another person being here with her in this bleak, ice-cold place was so unnerving, so surprising, she blanked for a few seconds. Her mind became a jumble of thought, tangled and confused. She searched over her meager belongings with her eyes, trying to figure out what she could do.
Again, came the tap-scratches from the other side of the door. They seemed to snap from her confusion. She stared at the door, her eyes as wide as saucers.
“Ok, ok, I’m coming,” she said aloud. Her voice sounded strange in her ears, since she hadn’t spoken above a whisper for hours and hours. “Don’t worry! I’m gonna help you! I’m gonna get you out of that cold, I promise!”
She stepped the rest of the way to the door, her hand resting upon the doorknob, looking through the glass as she pushed aside the thin curtain hanging on the inside. Expecting to see a pair of legs sticking out away from the door as would be the case if someone were lying prone upon the ground before it. She saw nothing. Nothing, but snow, drifted nearly two and a half feet deep, everywhere as far as the eye could see – which wasn’t all that far.
Maybe they were sitting up against the door.
She listened some more, straining her eyes as she tried to get the slightest glimpse of the person outside.
Thank god the door opened inward, she sighed. I wouldn’t be able to budge the door an inch if opened the other way.
Then, she heard the person breathe, a great expulsion of air as if they were trying desperately to say something to her, but didn’t have the strength to make themselves understood.
“I’m coming!” she exclaimed, fumbling with the locking mechanism. She yanked open the door the moment she’d unlocked it, wide, looking into the face of the only other living person she had seen in this frozen, hellish place in over three days.
Only…
…It wasn’t human. Its’ face was something out of a nightmare.
It was big, larger than the human form she had expected to see, about the size of a prized hog one would see at your typical county fair. It came from resting against the garage, wheeling to face her. It was long and thick of body with stout, short, well-muscled legs, easily the girth and weight of two full-grown men. Yet, unlike a prized hog, this thing had a long tail, bristling with the coarsest of hair, and a very squirrel-like head. Although, this squirrel-ish head was sprouting a four-inch snout and even longer tusks dripping with saliva. Its’ coat was just as coarse and thorny as its tail, a dark chestnut, speckled with uneven black.
From where she stood with the wind howling behind it, the landscape in the grip of a howling blizzard, she could smell it. It was a putrid sweetness not unlike butchered meat that had just turned, still bloody, but unmistakably rancid.
The moment the portal opened the beast rounded on her. Its’ eyes met hers, beady, greedy with hunger. It didn’t bother to breathe a second time. It didn’t waste a single second.
It charged.
She had a split second to comprehend this wasn’t a person.
No, this was some sort of animal, a horrendous beast, boasting the smell of flesh in the throes of decay. An animal that was about to hurt her badly. If she’d waited any longer, she would’ve been slain, never able to discover how she was going to come about some food. It wouldn’t have mattered if her stomach had ached or her head was beginning to hurt. It wouldn’t have mattered if every time she swallowed a hunk of an energy bar, the roof of her mouth pained her. None of it would have been important. She would’ve died, eviscerated and eaten by this half-pig, half-squirrel thing. That would have been the end of Marianna White Horse.
Instead, she reared back and slammed the door. Her fingers moved as fast as she could to engage the thumb lock as the beast hammered itself into the other side of the door. The force of the impact threw her back and onto her butt with only the latching phalange keeping the door shut.
Expecting the door to crumble beneath the weight and strength of the creature, she covered her face with her arms to protect herself, but then peered through them when the door held. She realized, as her eyes refocused. The door wasn’t made of wood. It merely looked like it had been manufactured with such material. When the beast smashed into it, it didn’t splinter and shatter as wood most definitely would’ve done.
No, it bent.
Metal! she heard her mind shriek. Without another thought, she leaped to her feet and rushed to the door.
Her fingers fiddled with the thumb lock just as the creature hit the door for a second time as hard as before, again knocking Marianna back. This time, though, she maintained her footing. She rushed back toward the portal once again when she saw there was a deadbolt about a foot and a half higher than the doorknob with a simple finger-twist engaging system. Stupid ass, why don’t you pay attention!?! Her hand lashed out and in one simple flick of her wrist, she locked the door just as the thing seemed to put it all of its weight against the door. The entire section of the garage moved. The door, the door jam, even adjacent portions of the wall bowed inward a few inches, the wooden siding groaning, even the connecting nails squeaked in loud protest against the tremendous weight.
Marianna used those few seconds to twist the lock on the doorknob into place and then stepped backward, her hands outward on either side her shaking, her eyes wide with terror. She could hear its’ awful, hoarse breathing as it continued to lean into the garage. The thought of its’ disgusting smell, made her retch as she looked around for something to protect herself. But what did she have that could keep something of that size away from her? A wooden spoon? A thick, dull needle? A fucking fire log? What? What could she possibly wield that would even slow the thing down if it got in, if it came after her? There was no denying it was half-starved. It was obviously out of its mind with hunger. It would rush her the moment it got in. What would she do then? Spit on it?
The beast moved of a sudden, walking along the wall on that particular side of the garage. It applied its’ weight as it went, for the creaking and moaning of the wood continued away from the door to her left all the way down the structure until the wall came to end. When its’ weight came free of her sanctuary, it made the entire garage shudder.
She strained her ears, trying to catch any hint of what the thing might be doing, holding her breath, because her own ragged inhalations were making it hard for her catch any of its’ ambient noise. She tip-toed a few steps toward the door. Her mind was focused on what she was hearing.
Suddenly, she froze in place, hearing something she couldn’t place. It was almost like water running, but issued from something larger than your average garden hose. Its’ volume garnered much more noise, louder than the scream of the wind. As swiftly as she could without making any noise, she moved toward the door, pulling aside the curtain covering the glassed-framed upper portion. It’s probably not glass, came the wayward thought. It had to be some sort of reinforced plastic. Otherwise, it would’ve shattered from the impact with the squirrely-pig-thing. There wasn’t a single crack on any of its’ surface.
She turned right, left, hoping to catch a wink of the creature. At first, she couldn’t see anything, but the blinding snow driven by the unyielding wind. A moment later, she saw it again, just barely. It was down toward the corner of the garage, milling about, sniffing at the ground, when it unceremoniously lifted one of its’ hind legs and deposited a copious amount of dark orange urine onto the wall and ground. The sound she’d heard before, she heard once more. Even with her line of sight severely askance from the beast’s position, its’ piss was so hot it melted through the snow in an instant, sent a sizable gout of steam up into the air. The storm took it away half a second later.
She gagged at the sight, thankful she couldn’t smell whatever the hell it had just spooged all over the ground and her parent’s garage.
Sonofabitch, what the hell is that thing?
She forced herself to watch, wanting to be ready, should the thing try and get inside her temporary home a second time.
Holy crap, what the shit am I going to do now? she thought, eyeing the beast as it continued to paw at the ground, retracing some of its steps, before doubling back on itself as if trying to remember what it had been doing moments before. Even if the storm stops and I can walk around looking for food, how in the hell am I fend off something like that ugly fucker out there?
Dammit, what is this place?
A weird ululating call sounded a heartbeat later, high-pitched, but loud. It broke her train of thought. Her attention remained glued to the scene before her, noticing the beast had stopped as well. It seemed to be smelling at the air as if was catching the scent of something out there, which seemed ridiculous in such ferocious winds.
Then, the beast bleated as well, even louder - a mushy sort of squeal sounding somewhat like a pig, but it was deeper in pitch, more throaty as if choked with flem. It was the most unusual sound she’d ever heard. It made her skin crawl. It was too unnatural, unbelonging of Earth.
A second later, the thing bounded off into the storm at full tilt. Its’ massive muscles bulged and flexed as it strode away faster than she imagined something of that bulk could manage. It was gone in seconds, a fleeting nightmare in a nightmarish world.
Marianna stood there, having no idea what to do next. She watched where it had disappeared into the swirling, stinging bite of the storm. Her eyes followed its’ tracks. They moved back and forth from the edge of the garage and off into a forest that shouldn’t have been there in the place. This was supposed to have been a nice neighborhood with nice, friendly neighbors and clean streets. Where had all of that gone? Why was she no longer where she was supposed to be? How come she’d been torn from her family, her brothers and sisters, her mother, her father? What had she done to deserve this? Why was she being cursed now? Hadn’t she always been a decent person? She knew she hadn’t always been a saint or anything that upstanding or magnanimous, but come on, really?
She watched to snow whip about beyond the pane of safety glass, or whatever the hell it was protecting her from the outside world. She watched and thought, wondered and hoped. All the while, her stomach curled in her abdomen, asking for more… just a little more… food.
Within five minutes, the tracks were gone, entirely covered over by the nonstop will of the storm. There was barely a trace the horrible thing had been there in the first place.
I need to eat! What am I going to do? I’m going to starve, if I don’t find food, fast!
She stayed at the door, gazing out into the blizzard for a long, long time.
The answer never came.
Off in the distance, the fell squirrel-pig squealed anew. Only vicious snarls followed.
It was fighting. It had to. It was famished.
~~~~~~~~<<<<<<{ ☼ }>>>>>>~~~~~~~~
~ 76 ~
Anger and Regret
Day Three, Saturday, 6:02 pm…
It had been a simple meal of tuna fish sandwiches and potato chips with a 32-ounce Gatorade. At least that’s what Hyun had to drink. The others had something else. Derek had grabbed a coke and Kimberly a tall Green Iced Tea. All three of which were cold now. The frigid air surrounding the mall had begun to seep into the massive structure over the course of the past few days. They had made their meager, but sensible dinner around the area they had built up the day before, after Hyun had discovered there was a storm pounding the mall, effectively shutting them off from the outside world altogether.
Now, they sat in the camping chairs Derek had found, eating quietly. Each in their own world, they were content with the silence for the moment, though Hyun knew it wouldn’t last long. Of course, it didn’t.
“So when do you think this storm is gonna finally blow itself out?” asked Derek, his mouth half full of food, which he washed down with a large draught of his soft drink.
“We don’t know, remember Derek, since none of us has ever been in a snow storm before, let alone a blizzard,” began Kimberly, talking around a large mouthful of her own. The subsequent gulp of her beverage made it appear as if she were mimicking his movements. Hyun watched them both with a heightened degree of awareness.
This has been going on for far too long to be just coincidence… what the hell are these two up too?
“I hear some of these mother f-ing storms can last for like a week back east…,” she trailed off to take another bite.
“Shit, man, it’s gonna be super cold in here if this stupid storm lasts t
hat long,” surmised the boy, glancing around, giving himself a mock shake at the prospect.
Hyun wasn’t quite certain why her eyebrows knitted.
“There are lots of ways to keep warm, dude, we just gotta find a few that won’t burn down the place, you know?”
Hyun knew it was Kimberly speaking, but this wasn’t the way the girl spoke. She had known her since they were little girls. What the fuck was this shit?
Derek glanced at the girl over his meal, having taken another bite, but was suddenly transfixed by her tone, her attitude. Like Hyun, he realized this wasn’t the usual Kimberly he had come to expect.
Oblivious to their reactions of her, she kept on eating as though nothing was awry. She didn’t bothering looking at either of them, consumption of her meal was much more important.
Hyun continued to gaze over at the other teen, wondering what she was getting at. Why her voice was so different? Kimberly’s intentions were a complete mystery. She was at a complete loss.
“We could be here for a long, long time,” added Kimberly, more too herself than to either of them. Her tongue deformed her speech. She looked over at Derek and gave him a couple of exaggerated winks. “Ain’t that right, big boy,” she added her face melting, a crud attempt at being alluring, falling horribly short.
The Unwanted Winter - Volume One of the Saga of the Twelves Page 68