He’s preoccupied with something. But what?
Confident that no trouble was going to occur – at least for the time-being – Harry decided he would join the newcomer at the bar. Sitting alone in the dark wasn’t awfully appealing and he needed a refill anyway. His current beer smelt like bad eggs.
“So Lucas,” Harry said, arriving at the bar and propping his elbows against its gnarled surface. “Where have you come in from?”
Lucas turned to Harry, the zippo still lighting his face. His striking blue eyes flickered in the shimmering glow of the flame. “I’ve come in from the bloody cold fella, but before that I came from down south.”
Harry raised an eyebrow. “South?”
“That’s what I said now, isn’t it? Been here-there-and-everywhere in my time – up and down, upside down – but originally I hail from the North. Been spending a lot of time in the South more recently though, after a falling out with me father. Suits me just fine; warmer climate, you know?”
Harry nodded; the gesture pointless in the dark. “I take it you’re talking about Northern and Southern Ireland, or do you mean since you’ve been in England?”
“Now, where is that drink I heard a rumour about,” said Lucas, single-mindedly. “This is a pub, is it not?”
Steph shouted from the backroom behind the bar. “Hold your horses! For a complete stranger you’re pretty demanding.”
“I’m a growing lad, and if ye make me wait I may just fade away. Or, worse than that, I may sober up.”
Steph came back through to the bar holding a wooden tray full of mismatched candles. The flames danced around her breasts and Harry tried not to stare at them. Carefully, she placed the candles evenly along the bar and the heady smell of burning wax wafted into the air. The first candle she had placed in front of Old Graham, whilst the last went in front of Nigel. In between, Harry and Lucas got candles too.
“That’s better,” said Steph. “Now, who wants a beer besides our new friend here?”
“I’m ready for one,” said Harry. “This one has gone bad.”
“Mine too,” said Old Graham, pushing his own pint forward. “I’m going to have to have a dozen more just to make up for it.”
Steph scrunched up her face. “Strange…Maybe there’s a problem with the taps. Not surprised, the amount you lot drink. They probably couldn’t take the strain.”
Lucas chuckled. “Looks like I’ve come to the right place. You’re men after me own heart, and now that I can see a little bit better, I can also admire what a fine young wench we have ourselves behind the bar.”
“Hey, less of the wench!” Steph objected. They all laughed and she got to work handing them their bottled beers, each of them swigging deeply as though it was their first of the night. Perhaps for Lucas it was.
The Irishman pointed a finger. “So who’s the beefy fella down the end of the bar that doesn’t talk?”
“My name is Nigel and I can hear you.”
“Well, Big Man, come and suck ale with the rest of us.”
“Maybe later.”
“What’s wrong with you, man? There a gal down there with ya?”
“Huh, I wish,” said Nigel.
“Get your moody arse down here! A fella shouldn’t be lonesome on a night like this. The cold out there could kill a man stone dead.”
“Okay, okay!” Nigel conceded, disturbing the shadows as he raised his hands in front of his face. He slid down the bar to join them all, dumping his heavy mass down onto a creaking stool beside Lucas. Harry nodded hello at the man and he nodded back.
Lucas certainly had a knack for bringing people together. Magnetic personality was the phrase that came to Harry’s mind.
Lucas spoke again. “You know something, fellas? I don’t think that snow is gonna let up tonight. No word of a lie but it’s like the feckin end of the world out there.”
“Oh, very nice,” said Steph. “You walk into my pub and start worrying everyone. We’ve all got to try and get home tonight.”
“What? Are ye drunk, lass? Ain’t no man getting anywhere in that winter blanket.”
Steph’s face dropped slightly, the dull candle-light making her expression seem grim. “How did you get here then?”
Lucas smiled knowingly. “I was nearby and realised things were bad, so I thought to meself, ‘where’s the best place to be stuck on a night like this?’ Well of course there was only one answer, wasn’t there?”
“The boozer!” Old Graham shouted gleefully, clearly delighted by the Irishman’s philosophy. “Anyway,” the pensioner added, “don’t you worry, young Stephanie. There’s always room upstairs at my place to keep warm.”
Cheeky sod, thought Harry. Wonder if the old guy even has enough lead in his pencil to get it up these days? If he does, then fair play to the old bugger.
Steph laughed defiantly, the air from her nostrils slanting the flames of the nearby candles. “The only way you’ll get me up there, old man, is if you’re sleeping on the roof.”
Everyone cackled and swigged their beers. Everyone except Damien, Harry observed. The thug was scowling at them from the shadows of the fireplace, watching their every move. No one else seemed to notice though, and the giggling chatter amongst the group at the bar continued.
Yet, despite the light-heartedness, Harry couldn’t help but notice that the snow outside continued to fall…
And it seemed to be getting worse.
As did Damien’s scowling.
Chapter Four
“Dude, just sit the hell down! If you break something my Dad will freak.” Ben didn’t need this from Jerry tonight. Not with the power going out and such shitty weather. It was like a dozen winters rolled into one and he was stuck in his father’s video store not knowing what to do for the best.
“Chill out, B-Dog!” said Jerry, shining his key ring torch into his face and contorting his skeletal features into a ghoulish grimace. The DVD cases on the cluttered shelves behind him shone with each movement of the light. “You need to stop worrying about your slave-driving old man. It’s not like he ever does anything for you – other than work you to death, that is, and make you come in on a day where everything else is closed. An important meeting, my arse! He just couldn’t be bothered to waste another day at the Video Store of the Damned.”
Ben frowned, though it was too dark in the store’s dusty back-office for Jerry to see it. “Stop calling it that! The place is doing just fine. He really did have a meeting, and it’s not every day he trusts me to look after Blue Rays on my own either, so the last thing I need is you making my life hard, okay? Just behave and don’t mess anything up.”
“Okay, okay,” Jerry conceded. “What would you like me to do with myself, oh wise Gandalf?”
Ben threw his head back and cursed. “I told you to stop calling me that!”
“Get rid of that gay beard and I will. Either that or I’ll get some hairy-assed Hobbits in here so you can feel more at home.”
“Just…” Ben took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Sit down will you, while I try to get the power back on.”
Thankfully, Jerry complied, hoisting his stick-like figure up onto the service desk and remaining quiet. Ben could still hear him fidgeting away for anything to get his spindly fingers on, but at least for now he was rooted in one place; his area of recklessness limited.
Sometimes Ben didn’t know why he put up with Jerry. They’d known each other since they were peeing in pre-school sandpits, but for some reason his friend had never seemed to mature mentally like he had. Ben had gone to College, whilst Jerry sponged off his mom and stepdad. Ben started dating girls, whilst Jerry brought an Xbox – and then later an Xbox 360. Finally, Ben had started to shoulder some of his dad’s business responsibilities, ready to one day take them on as his own, and Jerry…? Well now Jerry spent most his days hanging around Blue Rays Rentals bothering him and making fun of his beard or ‘jelly-belly’. Still, they were best friends and Ben knew that if it ever came down to it, Jerr
y would do anything for him. There was something comforting about that. Not like anybody else cares. Besides, deep down, Ben liked having Jerry around. Despite the odd annoyances, they had a lot of fun together. Even the Ben and Jerry jokes didn’t really bother him too much anymore. Tonight however, Jerry was stretching his patience paper-thin.
“When you gonna get the lights on again?” Jerry asked. “It’s like Saturday Night Fever in here.” He swept his penlight around the room, strobing the low-hung, suspended ceiling like a disco hall. Movie posters of a disgruntled-looking Deniro and an uncomfortable-looking Ben Stiller lit up and disappeared as the light passed over them.
“If it is, you’re no John Travolta!” Ben walked across to the far side of the office, behind the IKEA computer desk and towards the fuse box. He didn’t know anything about electrics and he was hoping to flick a switch and be done with it. Likely, it would be more complicated than that.
Before the power had gone off, Ben had been watching the news with Jerry (well, to be more honest, Jerry was waiting for a re-run of The Matrix to come on). The reports had said that the country’s infrastructure was expected to be affected by the snow for several more days and that blackouts were likely as people’s heating usages rose to monumental amounts. It didn’t bother Ben too much, so long as nothing happened to his father’s store whilst he was in charge of it; that was the main thing. The way he saw it, people just loved an excuse to panic, and the snow was their most recent fixation. You wouldn’t catch him freaking out though. Ben’s father had taught him better than that; taught him about being a man, and about how business came first.
Before anything else.
Before silly little friendships with that imbecile, Jerry.
Ben shook his father’s words out of his head and pulled out his keys from his pocket, sifting through them one by one.
There must be twenty keys here! I don’t even know what Dad uses most of them for. I’m sure one of them is for the fuse box though. It’s a little silver one if I remember correctly…
Earlier, he and Jerry had become concerned by the amount of snow that had been falling throughout the day – especially as it seemed to be worldwide (was that even possible?) – and, when it had started to pile up above knee height, the two of them had gone across to the supermarket down the lane – which was also, surprisingly, open – to stock up on snacks and beers in case they got stuck there. They were willing to wait it out if they had to, but Ben hoped Jerry could keep his exuberance under control during that time. His best friend had a knack for breaking things. Ben called it the Jerry-effect.
Ben swung open the fuse cabinet and flicked open his monogrammed lighter. He’d stopped smoking months ago but it had been a present from his father – and they were too few and far between to just go discarding them. His eyes glazed for a second as they adjusted to the light and, when his vision finally compensated, he blinked, unsure of what he was seeing. From the look of things, the entire fuse box had burnt out and melted in a flash of intense heat. It was a mess and smelt like singed rubber. It made no sense at all. Wasn’t the whole point of having fuses to prevent things like this? Power surges and whatnot? There wasn’t anything he could think of that could cause such severe heat damage, especially without burning anything outside of the fuse box. It was entirely localised to the area within the metal frame and not a speck of paint was damaged beyond that. It was strange, for sure. Ben plucked at his scruffy brown beard rhythmically as he tried to find a thought that fit, a thought that didn’t worry him. A thought that wasn’t insane. But all he could think was…
Dad will blow a fuse of his own when he finds out about this.
At that moment, Jerry shouted out from the shop floor. “What’s happening, Gandalf? You squeezing one out in there or what?”
Ben shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Dude, I swear, not now, okay!”
“Okay, okay,” Jerry said. “Don’t get your beard in a twist. It’s not like it’s the end of the world – although we are missing The Matrix.”
Chapter Five
Kath wasn’t prepared to stay here all night in the dark. She tried her mobile phone again and hissed when it still refused to dial out.
Knew I should have stayed home this morning.
Everyone else in the country had been skiving off and calling in sickies due to the unprecedented snowfall, so why hadn’t she? Because I have integrity; something most other people sadly lack in this day and age. Luckily, Peter and Jess lived within walking distance of the store and had had no excuses not to come in. They knew she wouldn’t stand for any absence. If I can make it in then so can they. Most people who drove could have gotten to work if they really wanted to, but they were lazy degenerates that worked only when they had no choice or social benefits available. Not many people would have come in for a ten hour shift like she had that day.
Where has it gotten me though? Nowhere!
Kath looked toward the exit doors. They were closed but she could still see the drifting snow outside, pilling up against the glass. Peter had cleared it away only two hours before and it was already rising back again. She’d have to have the lad shovel it away again if they didn’t get going soon. It was starting to feel more like the North Pole than central England.
Shivering, Kath untucked her arms away from her sides and felt around the till-area for the phone. The thought that someone may have been responsible for the power going off still worried her and all she wanted to do was talk to someone in authority. Mr Campbell. The power company. The police. Anyone.
Peter stood nearby (she’d insisted on it) and the intermittent glow of his mobile phone made Kath feel a little safer, but it was only enough to take a slight edge off her nerves. She plucked the phone off its cradle and typed in a number.
There was still no dial tone.
Kath slammed the handset back down.
“Is okay?” Peter asked in his horrible broken English.
“Everything is fine. I just dropped the phone. Do you know where Jessica is yet? I need to close up, but not before I’ve done a staff search. Its night’s like tonight when things go missing.”
There was silence for a moment and Kath’s heart-rate rose as the emptiness poked at her anxiety. A few seconds later Peter made himself known again. “I do not know where she is. Do you?”
Kath sighed. “Would I have asked you, if I did? Last I knew she was out front checking if anyone knew why the power was off. I don’t think she’s come back.”
Peter started heading off towards the exit. “Should I go look for her?”
The thought of being alone made Kath shout out. “No! Stay here. The last thing I, uh, need is you both getting lost.”
Pete began walking back toward the counter. “You think she is lost?”
Kath sniggered. “That girl would lose her head if it wasn’t sewn on. I’m sure whatever she’s doing out there, she’s managed to find her way into trouble. Just lea-”
Her body was suddenly wracked with shivers, cutting her words off mid-sentence. It was getting colder. It hadn’t seemed anywhere near as chilly just an hour ago when the power had first gone off. Perhaps the temperature had dropped so rapidly because the heating was out? It made sense, but for some reason didn’t seem right. It had gotten too cold too fast; unnaturally so.
She looked out through the glass doors again. If the doors didn’t open inwards as well as out, Kath was certain they would have been jammed inside. She watched as the top layer of snow began to jitter, swirl, and flow; lightly at first, but then more intently. The wind was picking up and starting to howl.
Kath wrapped her arms around herself. “For God sake, Peter, will you hurry up? We need to leave.”
We need to leave right now.
###
Jess could barely see an inch in front of the freckles on her nose. The snow hit her face relentlessly, filling her nostrils and blurring her eyes. It felt like she was going to suffocate, yet she had no choice but to persevere and find her way ba
ck to the supermarket. It was embarrassing that she’d managed to get herself so disorientated – it could have been only been ten feet before she’d found herself turned around and lost - but every direction led to a white, blossom background that seemed to creep on endlessly. She shivered, partly from anxiety but mostly from the fact she was freezing.
Really smart, Jessica. A+ for common sense.
She cried out for help and was unsurprised when she was met with near silence – the only other sound being the shrill whistle of the increasing wind. Despite the lack of reply, Jess called out again, lacking other ideas. When she was once again met with silence, Jess paused to gather her thoughts. The biting cold was worse when standing still.
What did they teach us at school about being stranded in the snow? That’s right – Nothing! People in England aren’t supposed to get stranded in the snow. That’s for places like Russia, or the North-freakin-Pole. In this country all we’re meant to face is a bad case of drizzle and maybe a hosepipe ban in the summer.
The Final Winter: An Apocalyptic Horror Novel Page 3