“Some cruise.” Old Graham piped up from his space by the fire, but quickly turned his gaze to the floor when he was met by Damien’s warning stare.
Harry wasn’t sure if he wanted Lucas to shut up or carry on, unsure if it was a conversation the group of them should be having. Lucas seemed to have a tendency to ask personal questions.
Lucas stood up unexpectedly. “A vacation, you say? Well, I hope he returns soon. Anyone for a beer?”
Talk about taking it to the brink, Harry thought, relieved that the conversation had altered course just as it neared an emotional minefield. It left Harry wondering what exactly had happened to make Damien so defensive about his father. Old Graham looked as if he knew, but when Harry glanced over at the old man, the pensioner looked away.
Steph’s voice came over from behind the bar. She moved away from the fireplace and entered the flickering lights of the candles on the bar. “I think we have a problem, guys.”
“What?” They all asked in unison.
Steph held an opened bottle of beer in her right hand and turned it upside down.
Nothing poured out.
“Jesus, no!” Old Graham cried, throwing his hands up at the sky as he realised what he was seeing. “The bloody beer’s frozen.”
Harry eye’s widened.
Was it really that cold?
Chapter Nine
“Dude, what are you doing?”
The banging at the door got more frantic.
Ben glanced over his shoulder at Jerry. “What you think I’m doing? I’m opening the door.”
“No way! It’s like The Thing out there. If someone starts hammering on the door, trying to get in – you lock it, tight! Then you board it up with planks and nails.”
Ben didn’t have time for this. He let out a long sigh. “Do you have any planks and nails, because I don’t. Movies aren’t real, and this isn’t a George Romero flick.”
Jerry winced.
The banging continued. A silhouette flittered against the pure white backdrop of the snow outside the door. Ben was just about to open up when something occurred to him, making him pause. “Hey, who’s there? Stop your banging, okay?”
Sure enough the banging stopped at his command.
“I said who’s there?”
Jerry tapped his foot nervously. “Dude, I swear, if you let the Lost Boys in here, I’ll never forgive you.”
Ben shook his head again, certain that his friend had smoked one of his funny fags at some point during the last few hours.
“My name’s Jess,” said a girl. “I work at the supermarket. Please let me in.”
Jerry leapt up and punched the air. “Dude! That’s the girl I was just talking about. The blonde fitty!”
Ben grinned. “Pity we can’t let her in, just in case she’s a zombie or a vampire?”
“Dude, stop fooling. Let her in!”
Ben couldn’t help but laugh as he turned back to the door. The girl’s silhouette continued to dance frantically against the snowy backdrop. Ben wondered what on earth had gotten her so worked up.
“Jess,” he said calmly.
“Yes, let me in.”
“The door isn’t locked,” Ben cleared his throat and waited for a reply.
There was silence, followed by a “Huh?”
“The door isn’t locked. It opens outwards. You keep bashing on it, but you need to pull it towards you.”
After a further moment’s silence, the door started to open slowly. The cold air rushed inside through the slowly widening gap. The girl that stepped inside looked very embarrassed.
***
It took almost fifteen minutes for Ben to calm Jess down. Once he’d let her inside and locked the door – she insisted on it – the girl had started to catch her breath. The three of them stood now by the entrance, where they could just about make each other out under the moon’s faltering glow and the green pulse of the fire exit sign.
“You’re lucky,” Ben said, patting her on the back. Her entire body was trembling. “We were just about to leave.”
The girl glanced over her shoulder at the door behind her, as though she expected something to burst through at any moment. The wind was picking up outside and flakes of snow were whirling up and settling against the glass.
Ben raised an eyebrow. “What exactly happened to you out there?”
“Yeah,” Jerry added. “Something give you the heebie jeebies, or what?”
Jess giggled, but it was a nervous sound. “I guess you could say something like that, but I’m probably just being silly. Least I hope so.”
“You got us a bit freaked out,” Ben said. “Banging on the door like that!”
“Sorry. I was just in a panic.”
“Why though?” Ben wanted to get to the point quickly, disconcertingly aware of the fact that they would all have to get out of there soon. It was getting far too cold to hang around any longer.
“I left the supermarket to see if anybody knew why the power had gone out,” Jess explained, “and to get away from my cow of a manageress. She drives me insane, but I just act really happy around her because I know it drives her insane.”
Ben got Jess back on track. “Then what happened?”
“Oh right, well, it’s the weirdest thing. I got lost!”
Ben and Jerry spoke in unison: “Lost?”
“Yeah, literally like ten steps out of the doorway. I couldn’t find my way back at all. Every time I changed direction it felt like I was going round in circles. I couldn’t see anything other than snow all around me. That’s when I started to get, you know, a bit scared, so I got my phone out to call someone at the supermarket to come and get me, but my phone was all messed up. I totally freaked out and started calling out for help. That’s when I saw it…”
Ben swallowed. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what it was the girl saw – especially the bit about how her phone was all messed up the same as he and Jerry’s. The last thing they needed was to be freaked out right now, but he asked the question anyway. It felt like he needed to. “What did you see?”
Jess shook her head and shrugged, her bleach-blonde hair glinting in the white light coming from outside. “I… I really don’t know, but it had a face, you know? It was a man, I guess. A tall man.”
“Like Phantasm? Dude!” Jerry left it at that. Sometimes Dude said enough.
Ben wasn’t quite so impressed, though. “A face? You just bumped into someone, that’s all.”
Jess nodded. “Except the only thing I could make out on this person’s face were his eyes – big, glowy white ones inside of a hood.”
“A hood?” Another one of Jerry’s fantasies took a hold of him. “What kind of hood?”
Jess shook her head, a blank expression on her face. “I don’t know what any of that means, but it was like a priest’s robe or something. I didn’t see anything else – just the face – and I ran. Then I ended up at your door. Thank God!”
Jerry put an arm around the girl’s waist and squeezed tightly. “Amen to that!”
Ben’s common sense was telling him to dismiss the girl’s story as paranoid nonsense, but part of him couldn’t help but wonder…
Was something out there in the snow?
Chapter Ten
Damien had separated himself from the group and was now standing by the window in his bulbous puffer jacket, staring intently at the world outside. Harry and the other drinkers had remained around the sofa, a row of beers at their feet thawing in front of the fire. A couple were cracked due to the change in temperature, but most seemed to be returning to their more natural state of crisp, bubbling liquid.
Damien stared out into the night.
What is it with this weather? It just came out of freaking nowhere.
The cold was enough to freeze your eyelashes – not to mention the beer. If he was honest – which he rarely was if he could help it – he was worried. If the power didn’t come back on soon, would it get even colder? Would he freeze to death? It seeme
d an absurd thought in this day and age, but he wasn’t so certain. The ghost-white blanket swirling outside the window made him even less sure. It was like the whole world was freezing.
How did I get stuck in this dump on a night like tonight? The one Tuesday where I have serious business to attend to and this happens – and that fuckface Jimmy hasn’t even turned up. I should be making plans for my future right now, but no, I’m stuck here with a bunch of deadbeats. Steph isn’t so bad, but the others deserve a slap. Especially that fucking waste of space, Harry. Acts like he’s better than me, but he’s the biggest degenerate here.
Damien had noticed plenty of times how Harry turned his nose up whenever he and his mates were in the pub. Damien would have done something about it before now, but the guy wasn’t worth the effort. Besides, despite his superior attitude, Harry pretty much kept to himself, and it was a bad move to pick fights with people who kept to themselves. People told tales when you started victimising innocent people.
Still, the geezer best wind his neck in, because Damien would put him down if he kept getting in his face. The thick Mick would get his, too, if he wasn’t careful. Damien was sick of people treating him like a worthless thug, thinking they know all about him. They didn’t know shit.
For some reason, when Damien thought about Lucas it stoked an anxious fire in his belly. It wasn’t because he was scared of the man, but for some reason Lucas made Damien uneasy. Especially after the guy had damn-near busted his hand.
Damien shuddered as a cold breeze from under the pub’s rear door made it all the way inside his collar. It was time to get back in front of that fire. He was freezing his nutsack off! He turned away from the window and saw Lucas staring at him from across the room.
Speak of the Devil!
Damien glowered at the man, who smiled back at him benignly like they were old buddies or something. The fire in Damien’s belly grew hotter.
***
Damien took a lightly-frosted beer from Lucas and Harry wondered if he saw nervousness in the lad’s eyes. Damien seemed to be getting less and less sure of himself as the night went by, as though some finely-oiled veneer of toughness was slowly starting to crack and peel. Harry took a swig of his own beer and cringed as the icy liquid passed over his teeth, making them ache a little. Think I would actually prefer a steaming mug of coffee about now. When was the last time I felt like that?
Lucas ended a conversation he was having with Steph and headed off towards the toilets. Suddenly alone, Steph took a seat beside Harry on the sofa. He could feel the warmth of her thigh against his as she settled into the cushions.
“You got anywhere you’re supposed to be tonight, Harry?” she asked him.
He laughed. “You know me! When do I ever have any place to be other than here?”
“True,” she said. “But I don’t know why it is that you come here every night. It can’t just be the drink? You could stay at home and pass out on your own floor if you wanted to.”
Harry laughed again. “Yeah, but you wouldn’t be there to pick me up afterwards.”
Steph shook her head as though she didn’t accept his answer. “I’m serious! Why do you come here?”
“I don’t know. I guess it’s because misery loves company. I think I come here to be among the living dead.”
Steph raised one of her neatly-shaped eyebrow. “I don’t follow.”
“How can I explain it? On the weekends you get the kids in having fun, but during the weekdays you have guys like Nigel who sit at the end of the bar without saying a word to anybody all night, or guys like Old Graham who live in the past because they don’t know where they fit in during the present.” Harry took a swig of his beer and then looked Steph in the eyes. They looked to him like glistening pearls and, for a few seconds, he stopped speaking, just staring into them. Frightened that the pause might become awkward, Harry carried on with what he was saying. “I come here because it reminds me that there are other people who have nothing left in their lives except regret. If I stayed at home I’d lose sight of the fact that I’m not alone in misery – that I’m not the world’s unluckiest man. It’s strange, but sometimes that’s the only thing that keeps me going. Doesn’t matter how much I hate my life, I’m not unique and my pain isn’t special. I’m never alone because I’m part of a club. The Living Dead Club. To be a member you have to stop living. You can walk around like a person, but really you’re just a memory of who you used to be.”
Steph rubbed a hand against her forehead. The various rings on her fingers glinted in the fire glow. “God, you’re depressing. That’s just about the most melodramatic thing I’ve ever heard. Have you always been like this?”
“No.” Harry said, but did not elaborate. Once he’d been a positive, upbeat person, but now he wasn’t – and that was that. The death of his wife, Julie, and his son, Toby, had left a charred, sucking wound where his heart had been. All he was left with was a star-shaped scar on the back of his hand.
Steph must have understood the feelings that her question provoked in him, as she changed the subject. “Hey, Graham?” she shouted.
The old man was sitting on the floor by the fire and flinched. “What?”
“Can you go upstairs to your flat and get some blankets and stuff? It’s almost closing time but it doesn’t look like the power is coming back anytime soon.”
The old man nodded. “Good idea.”
When Old Graham tottered over towards the bar on his way to the staircase in the corridor behind, Nigel shifted along the floor and filled his place closer to the fire. The man’s greasy face turned in Steph and Harry’s direction. “Is it okay for me to bed down here tonight, Steph? I’m parked round the back, but I don’t fancy a night in the lorry.”
Steph shrugged. “Can’t exactly see you out on the street now can I?”
Nigel’s face lit up. “Thanks, Steph.”
Damien piped up from the opposite side of the fire. “So you live in a lorry then?”
Nigel nodded. “Sometimes I do. Travelling around the Continent most the time so what’s the point in paying rent? I book a hotel when I fancy a soft bed and a warm bath, but most nights the driver’s cab suits me fine. Never did much like being tied down in one place.”
Harry wondered what that must be like. Such freedom to be able to lay your hat anyway and call it home for a night. Part of Harry yearned to disappear like that, to become a nomad with no emotional ties. But it just felt unnatural. A man without a home, without a family, wasn’t really a man. It didn’t seem right not to yearn for those things, or mourn for them once they were gone. He wondered what had led Nigel to live such an isolated life.
Damien sniggered. “So, you’re basically one step up from a homeless person, huh, Nigel?”
Nigel shrugged. “Aside from the fact that I have a well-paid job and get to see a dozen countries in any given year.”
“Where have you been recently?” Steph asked, smiling excitedly. “I bet you have some stories.”
“I was in France last week, on my way back from Amsterdam, and Copenhagen before that. There’s some beautiful countryside along the way.”
“Am-ster-dam.” Damien said the word slowly as though he enjoyed the feel of it on his tongue. “I’ve been there. Next time you go, say hello to Cindy Suckalump. She’ll give you a discount if you mention my name.”
“Don’t be so crude,” said Steph. “I’m sure Nigel doesn’t know what on earth you mean.” The attention of the group suddenly turned to Nigel who was looking away sheepishly. “Oh my!” said Steph finally, realising that Nigel was just a man like any other.
Damien let out a raucous laugh. “Oh, he knows. Look at his face.”
Nigel seemed embarrassed but was smiling nonetheless, like a ten-year old boy caught with his father’s porno magazines. Harry leant forward and was about to speak, but was interrupted by a voice behind him.
Old Graham was holding something in the air triumphantly. “Got the blankets, folks. Brought me someth
ing else too.”
“And what would that be?” asked Lucas, returning from the toilets and tucking his shirt back into his trousers.
“I think we need to know what the hell is going on tonight,” Old Graham explained, “so I brought down me old radio.”
Steph slapped his hands together and congratulated the old man. “Excellent,” she said. “If nothing else, we could get some music playing. It’s getting a bit spooky in here.”
“Now maybe we can find out just what the hell is going on with this weather and when the power will be back on,” said Harry, but deep down, something told him he didn’t want to know.
Chapter Eleven
“What’s the plan?” asked Ben. His body had gone from mild shivering to full-blown quaking now. It felt as if the very air were made of ice. “We need to get out of here s-soon. I’m freezing”
Jerry nodded agreement, his face lit by one of the dusty candles Ben had found in the bottom drawer of the office filing cabinet. His arm was still around Jess’ waist, but she didn’t seem to mind. Ben suspected that if she’d not had a fright earlier, her need for personal space might have been greater.
“Guess we should grab the beers from the office and try to make it back to yours,” Jerry said.
Nice try, thought Ben. He was fully aware of his friend’s lame attempts to create a social situation in which he could get Jess drunk, but he wasn’t about to play along. “Leave the beers behind. They’ll only slow us down. Let’s get Jess home, then we’ll go back and crash at mine. I’ve got to be back here tomorrow morning.”
Jerry’s face sagged. “Well, it would only be polite to invite Jess back as well. She may want company after the night she’s had.”
The two boys turned their attention to Jess and the girl began to fluster as all eyes were on her. “Well, I should, you know, really get back to my mum and dad. They’ll worry otherwise. Another time though, yeah?”
Ben smiled as Jerry did the opposite.
Like I said, nice try.
The BIG Horror Pack 1 Page 48