White Walker

WHITE

WALKER

RICHARD SCHIVER

NIGHTMARES UNLEASHED

Abis Books

Copyright © 2014 Richard Schiver

Cover Design Copyright © 2014 Richard
Schiver

Editing performed by Patricia Russo

All rights reserved.

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imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to Actual
persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
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The wipers struggled to keep up with the falling
snow as they whipped back and forth across the glass, building
ridges of ice at each stop, streaking the glass as bits of ice
became lodged beneath the wipers’ edges. Even with the defroster
set on full, the ice on the windshield continued to grow,
distorting his view of the world beyond, forcing Teddy to lean
forward in his seat as he struggled to see through the sheets of
falling snow that swirled around them.

While not a rarity for this region, the late winter
storm had taken many by surprise, rolling in from the North and
becoming lodged against the landmass of the Eastern Continental
divide that was Big Savage Mountain, parking itself over the aptly
named town of Frostburg that had been built on the Eastward slope
of Big Savage. By the time Teddy and Judy left for work, more than
eight inches of snow had accumulated, with much more on the
way.

Judy sat on the passenger’s side, wedged into the
corner between the seat back and door. Normally she would be right
next to him, but today she had opted to remain on her side. Wrapped
in a heavy coat, with a woolen cap pulled down on her head, leaving
only the worried expression on her face visible. She kept her gaze
fixed straight ahead, looking neither left or right, her arms
crossed over her chest with her hands tucked into her armpits to
keep them warm.

“Are you all right?” he asked for what must have
been the hundredth time that day. Ever since they had gotten up
that morning, she had been distant and withdrawn, retreating into
her own little world, and it worried him. Looking back, he realized
she had been this way all week: he’d just been too busy to notice
until now.

Judy remained silent, nodding in response to his
question, her thoughts obviously elsewhere. There was definitely
something wrong. He saw it etched in the lines of worry that marred
her otherwise blemish-free features. But as he had learned over the
course of their relationship, when she was ready, she’d let him
know what was wrong.

“We’re almost there,” he said as he flipped on the
blinker, more out of habit than to signal his intentions to the
other motorists on the road. Theirs was one of the few vehicles
moving. They were one of the few who were brave enough, or crazy
enough, to be out on a day like this.

For Teddy there was no choice. This was his first
day as the shift supervisor for Advanced Computer Services, a small
call center on the eastern edge of town. The company provided help
desk tech support for a software developer whose customers were
defense contractors and manufacturers. Several call centers within
ACS handled the flow of traffic so the loss of one was no big deal.
But a number of the people on his team had not updated their
contact information, meaning they had not received the call to stay
home, forcing Teddy to go in on a day he’d rather have stayed home
himself. He’d always believed there were times when you did what
you had to, not what you wanted. It was a philosophy that had been
a part of his life for as long as he could remember.

Beyond the windshield lay a blasted landscape filled
with unrecognizable blobs that rose from the ground like bubbles
floating on the surface of a stagnant pond. For all he knew they
were on a distant planet fighting through an endless blizzard. A
wretched place that could only exist at the end of a twisted
rainbow that offered little hope of redemption.

“There’s somebody out there,” Judy said as she
leaned forward in her seat to search the sheets of falling
snow.

“I didn’t see anybody,” Teddy said.

“Right there.” Judy pointed at the side of the road
in front of them. “I just saw them again.”

Teddy gripped the wheel as he tried to see through
the blinding snow. He didn’t slow down.

“Aren’t you going to stop and help them?” Judy
said.

“What makes you think they need help?”

“I don’t know, but they could, maybe their car is
broken down or something.”

“Or they’re just walking home.”

“What if they’re lost? What if we don’t stop to help
and later learn they were lost and we could have saved them?”

“You want me to stop?” Teddy said.

“Yes, stop and help, or see if they need any
help.”

With a shrug, Teddy eased his foot off the gas. He’d
learned early in their relationship that there was no sense arguing
with her once she’d set her mind to something. As the brakes
grabbed, the truck slid sideways on the slick surface of the road.
Or at least what he thought was the road. For all he knew they were
driving through someone’s back yard, about to plow into their
living room. Easing to a stop, the truck came to rest with a final
slide.

“If we get stuck,” he said.

“We won’t get stuck.” she answered with a confidence
he lacked.

The wind rocked the vehicle back and forth as it
shrieked through the narrow gaps and crevices of the undercarriage.
Judy was twisted around in her seat, pressing her face to the
window, her hands to either side, as she tried to see through the
swirling curtain of falling snowflakes.

“Blow your horn, let them know where we are,” Judy
said.

Teddy hesitated.
What if I don’t want the
stranger to know where we were?
While not a charitable thought,
it was the truth.

“What’s wrong? Don’t you want to help?”

He did, but he didn’t. A part of him wanted to help
in any way possible. After all, it was his nature; it was what had
driven him to volunteer for the local Volunteer Fire Department as
an Emergency Medical Technician. But the things he’d faced in his
past, after his parents’ deaths, had taught him to be wary of
strangers, and in the current economic climate you really couldn’t
trust anyone.

Torn between his natural desire to help others and a
lifetime of bad memories, he tapped the horn, cringing inwardly as
that brief blat of sound was lost in the rising voice of the
wind.

“You gotta do it more than once,” Judy said as she
leaned across the cab of the truck and laid on the horn.

Teddy experienced a moment of self-loathing. He was
acting like a little kid. Afraid of a stranger in a snowstorm; it
didn’t make any sense, yet he couldn’t deny the sensation that
there was something more going on. It lay just beneath the surface
of his subconscious. Like a name hidden right on the tip of the
tongue. You knew what it was, but you couldn’t see it clearly
because you were too focused on trying to figure it out.

“I don‘t see him anymore. Maybe you should go see if
you can find him,” Judy said.

“Me?”

“Of course you. I can’t do it. What if he’s fallen
down and needs help?”

She was right and Teddy knew he was acting like a
child. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that stepping out into the
storm was the worst thing he could do right now.

“Hurry up. I’ll flash the lights on and off, and
keep blowing the horn so you can find your way back.”

Along with whatever else was out there, he finished
to himself.

Zipping his coat, he leaned into the door and pulled
the handle. At first nothing happened; the door remained firmly
closed. Maybe it was frozen shut, he had time to consider before it
popped open and the dome light behind his head came on.

A cold wind invaded the warmth of the cab as flakes
of snow fluttered to the seat beside him, melting instantly. He
pushed the door all the way open, allowing the storm entry as he
spun around in his seat and slipped from behind the wheel.

Closing the door, he stood next to the truck as the
storm raged around him. The wind yanked at his collar, slipping
down his neck to caress his flesh with a chilled lover’s touch. As
he stood there, surrounded by the voice of the storm that came in
the shrieking cry of the wind, he heard the unmistakable sound of
footsteps approaching through the carpet of snow. A leisurely,
measured sound, as if that which was walking towards him had all
the time in the world.

He felt its presence on a deep, primitive level.
Whatever was coming was a part of the storm, a physical extension
of a meteorological event. On the surface it was an irrational
thought, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was
watching him from the storm itself. The footsteps stopped,
somewhere to his left, an unknown distance away. For all Teddy knew
whoever it was could be standing right next to him, and the thought
sent a jolt of fear through him.

He spun around, trying to catch sight of whatever
was sneaking up on him. There was nothing there. Yet he felt it
watching him, as if the storm itself were full of eyes that
observed his actions in a detached, clinical manner.

The sound of a footstep came from his right and he
spun around in that direction. Nothing moved among the swirling
sheets of snow. The sound came from behind him and he spun around
to confront: nothing. He pulled open the door and climbed in behind
the wheel. Slamming the door behind him.

“Did you find him?” Judy said.

Teddy shook his head as he dropped the shift lever
into low and gently stepped on the gas. The wheels spun as they
pulled away from the curb, throwing up slushy snow in their
wake.

“What happened?” Judy asked.

But Teddy remained silent. There had been something
in the storm, something that had watched him from the falling snow.
Something that he sensed on a dark, primitive level that had no
right to exist. Judy gave up her questioning and retreated back
into herself as she settled into the corner of the seat, her arms
crossed over her chest, her emotionless expression offering no hint
to what lay behind her eyes.

***

Usually it was a task to find a place to park, but
today the lot was nearly empty. He glanced at Judy in the
passenger’s seat. Wrapped in her winter coat, her gaze remained
fixed straight ahead. She was probably still pissed over what had
happened earlier. And Teddy had to admit; with a bit of distance
between now and then, that he’d acted like a scared little kid.
There wasn’t anything in the storm that could hurt them.

“Are you all right?” he asked again, more out of
habit. Her response a silent shrug as she continued to refuse to
look in his direction.

Maybe she knew what he had been agonizing over ever
since he’d been promoted. She had been at the call center longer
than he had, so she was aware of company’s policy on
fraternization. They had not done a very good job of keeping their
relationship a secret from their co-workers, and Teddy knew all too
well, and he was sure that Judy understood, that it wouldn’t be
possible for her to work for him while they were involved.