White Walker (10 page)

“Charles, you look as if you've seen a ghost."

"There's someone out there, Miss Butler, a man. He
didn't say or do anything, just stood there and watched me."

"And you left him out in the storm? Shame on
you."

Harriet moved to the back of the schoolhouse and
gazed through the single-paned window next to the door.

"I don't see anyone out there. Charles, are you sure
you saw him?”

"Yes ma'am, as sure as my Paw belongs to the country
store!”

Several of the children laughed at this. It was a
well-known fact that every miner in the area belonged to the
country store, which was an extension of the coal company. It was a
sorry state of affairs many would complain, that one’s earnings
were taken back by a store operated by the very company that paid
them to begin with. Yet they continued to shop at the company
store, just as they continued to live in company housing.
Practically every penny the miners made in the deep mines went
right back to the company that paid them, with interest to add
insult to injury.

“Hush now, children, we don’t need to speak of these
things,” Harriet admonished them.

“I still don’t see anyone out there. Maybe we should
try to bring them into the schoolhouse so they can get warm.”

Harriet turned from the window as a nasty gust of
wind rattled the small schoolhouse to its very foundation. The
Riley girls clung to one another in the far corner and wept as the
wind shrieked with a vengeful voice.

“Everything will be fine, now just settle down, we
have firewood, coal, and shelter.”

“Miss Butler, I see him, he’s over here, just
outside the window,” Margaret, a small redheaded girl, cried out
from the window she stood next to on the south side of the room. At
that moment the wind threw a broken tree limb into the side of the
schoolhouse. The window shattered next to Margaret and she was
showered with shards of glass, some of which cut her freckled face.
Margaret dropped to the floor, howling with pain, as the rest of
the children moved away from the window and the wind that had now
found its way inside.

After making sure Margaret was okay, Harriet tried
to cover the window with a blanket. It did little to keep the
searching fingers of the cold at bay. Snowflakes found their way
into the warmth of the schoolhouse, melting at first as they
settled on the warm wood, but in no time the cold made headway and
a small pile of snow accumulated on the floor beneath the
window.

Harriet kept the children close to the pot-bellied
stove as the cold slowly ate away at the warmth given off by
it.

“Charles, we need more firewood.”

“Can Randy go this time, Miss Butler?”

“What’s wrong, Charles?”

Charles glanced at the front door of the
schoolhouse.

“I don’t wanna go back out there!”

“Fine. Randy, could you get us some more firewood,
please?”

Randy jumped to his feet. Though smaller than
Charles, he could handle the task requested of him. Randy smirked
at Charles as he pulled on his woolen jacket.

“Don’t!” Charles said.

Randy walked to the front door and stopped.

“What’s gotten into you, Charles?” Harriet
asked.

Charles shook his head.

“He’s out there, waiting for one of us.”

“Who’s out there?”

“The stranger, he’s waiting for one of us to come
out so he can come in.” Charles moved away from the door and sat
with the young children who were huddled around the stove.

“Don’t let him in, Miss Butler,” Charles said, then
turned his attention to the stove in front of him. Several of the
smaller children watched her with frightened eyes. It was bad
enough they were trapped in the middle of a blizzard, but to find
out there was a bad man out there who wanted to do them harm was
too much for them.

“Please don’t let the bad man in, Miss Butler,”
Rebecca cried from her perch in front of the stove.

“Please don’t,” whispered Victoria, a small blonde
girl who like a few of the others had only started attending class
this past fall.

“There’s no bad man out there.” Randy turned to the
door. He slipped into his worn coat and stopped with his hand on
the handle. “Watch and see, I’ll be back,” with that he flung open
the door and vanished into the storm.

Harriet closed the door after him and stepped to the
window beside the door to watch his progress. One moment he was
there, the next he was gone, swallowed by the raging storm. She
waited at the window, her gaze shifting from the children huddled
around the stove to the swirling sheets of snow beyond the
window.

***

Randy easily made it to the small shelter where the
firewood was stored. There were only a few pieces left, and they
were wet from the driving snow; nonetheless he gathered up what
remained. As he hefted the last piece of wood, he looked at its
weathered gray surface. This piece was much older than the others.
Intricate carvings covered its surface, blending with the grain
that stood out in sharp contrast.

As he held it, an image formed in his mind. The
flickering flames of a fire illuminated the impassive face of the
totem. Shadowy shapes moved around the flames; part human and part
animal, they pranced and leapt and reared up in mock combat as they
danced around the fire. He shook his head as the image faded,
suddenly overcome with the desire to return to the safety of the
schoolhouse. He was about to turn back when he spotted movement out
of the corner of his eye.

He stood still, his heart thundering in his chest,
as the short hairs at the nape of his neck stirred. He was such a
braggart. His father always said his mouth was going to get him
into trouble one of these days, and it looked like that day had
arrived.

From the corner of his eye he spotted the movement
again, a solitary figure that walked effortlessly through the
driving sheets of snow, drawing closer with every step.

“No!” Randy whispered as terror blossomed in the pit
of his stomach. He wanted to drop his armload of wood and flee to
the schoolhouse, but it was no use, he stood rooted in place, his
terror locking his legs so that they ignored his repeated pleas to
flee.

“Randy,” a voice whispered to him, carried on the
shrieking wind.

“No!” Randy moaned as the figure neared. His pants
leg darkened as his bladder released its contents. The figure was
only a few feet away now, moving resolutely towards him, a wide
brimmed hat pulled down low to cover his eyes. Randy saw a flash of
dull yellow at the stranger’s chin. A beard that hung below cruel
lips spread in an evil smile.

“What’s your rush?” the stranger asked.

“Please,” Randy moaned as terror thundered through
him.

“Sit for a spell.” The stranger reached out and
touched Randy’s shoulder. Firewood fell from his nerveless fingers
as intense agony doubled him over. He rubbed his shoulder where the
stranger had touched him. From that spot, an intense pain spread
across his chest like the searching fingers of a wintry chill. He
coughed, struggling to breathe as his chest contracted and his
lungs shriveled from the intense cold invading them.

“Help me,” Randy managed to whisper as he dropped to
his knees in front of the stranger. He looked up into the
stranger’s face and the last thing he saw were two malevolent eyes.
Then he fell face first into the waiting snow.

The stranger touched Randy’s shoulder with his
booted foot, shrugged, and turned to the schoolhouse.

***

“Let’s play a game,” Harriet said as she moved away
from the window. When she did, the stranger appeared out of the
storm and approached the front door.

“What shall we play?” Victoria asked.

“How about Duck Duck Goose?” the Davydov twins asked
in unison.

Harriet considered this as the older children
groaned in dismay. The activity would help to keep the children
warm, but it was a game more suited for the smaller children.

“How about musical chairs?” Harriet offered. She had
the old phonograph in the corner they could use, and the activity
would keep them both occupied and warm. A knock interrupted them
and Harriet crossed to the door.

“Don’t, Ms Simmons, “ Rebecca cried out, “it could
be the bad man.”

“Nonsense, Rebecca, it’s just Randy coming back with
more wood,” she said as her hand settled on the cold metal knob; a
small part of her was hopeful that what she had said was the truth.
She swung open the door and all hope died when the stranger was
revealed standing in the doorframe. Harriet attempted to shut the
door but the stranger blocked it with one arm.

Charles stood in the corner alone, his gaze fixed on
the door, whispering an old name whose origins lay in the distant
past. “White Walker,” he said.

The door was driven open and he stood upon the
threshold. He wore the guise of a man dressed in a long leather
coat that remained motionless as the searching fingers of the
winters wind quickly invaded the warmer interior of the
schoolhouse. A battered leather hat was pushed down upon his head
with a filthy red scarf wrapped about the lower portion of his
face, hiding his mouth and nose. His eyes sparkled in the shadowy
depths cast by the wide brim of his hat.

Harriet spun from the door and raced back to her
desk, avoiding his outstretched hand. She snatched the coal lantern
from her desk and spun around to confront the stranger.

“Get out, now,” she shouted as she drew back her
arm.

The stranger smiled and Harriet threw the coal lamp.
It missed, splashing coal oil on the dry wood next to the door,
which was ignited by the burning wick. The flames drove away the
stranger and the small fire, fed by the wind, was quickly fanned
into a raging inferno that feasted on the dried wood inside the
schoolhouse.

Smoke overwhelmed them as the flames greedily
consumed the schoolhouse. They cowered in the corner, each passing
into unconsciousness, overwhelmed by the smoke that made it nearly
impossible to breathe. Harriet was the last, struggling to breathe
as the flames edged closer still, the heat making her sweat into
her heavy dress as the flames dried her skin and pulled the flesh
of her face taunt against the bones of her skull. She clung to
consciousness, her charges lying about her in a twisted heap with
their arms and legs intertwined as if they were seeking comfort in
death that had not been available in life. She had sworn she would
protect them at all costs.

In her final moments, as unconsciousness claimed her
and her life dimmed, Charles came to her, emerging from the flames,
a being of fire himself, his hand held out to her.

“It’s okay,” he said, “the flames don’t hurt once
you get used to them.”

She lifted her arm to take Charles’s hand and when
the flesh of her fingers molded into his palm, she saw them
gathered around her. Her charges, the children she had struggled so
valiantly to save, were with her as they would be for an eternity.
In the storm she saw the stranger’s face, the white walker as he
truly appeared. His flesh the color of fine marble, his eyes as
cold as the winter’s chill. A beard of glittering icicles hung from
his chin.

“They are mine,” he said, nodding at the children
huddled around her.

“Not as long as I exist,” she said as she reached
out for him with one flaming arm, satisfied to see him shrink from
her contact.

The images faded from Jasmine’s mind and she looked
up into the empty room. The shadowy shapes of the children had
vanished. Yet the stench of burnt flesh was still present, as were
David’s remains.

With a sound like a gunshot, one of the diagonal
beams in the Pratt truss near the southeast corner of the building,
directly over the training room, suddenly gave way. The interior
ceiling sagged noticeably as the weight of the wet snow on top
pressed down upon it.

Inside the training room, the desk lamp flickered
before going out completely, plunging her into a black abyss. She
was aware of the ceiling pressing down upon her, the loose tiles
rattling in their frames as they were forced down by the immense
weight of the snow slowly piling on top of them.

She felt it then, that forlorn loneliness, that
creature of the storm, forever cursed to wander alone searching for
a way in.

Norman sat across from Teddy and Cody at one of the
tables in the break room. Chilled to the bone, they shivered
uncontrollably while Teddy’s teeth chattered. Cody laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Teddy said.

“You, man. I’d always heard stories about people’s
teeth chattering from the cold but I’d never seen it until
now.”

“I’m so glad I could provide some comic relief.”
Teddy said.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Cody shot
back, his demeanor instantly defensive.

“Nothing, man, don’t worry about it.”

“You’re being a fucking smart ass again.”

“What the hell is your damned problem?” Teddy said,
his own anger rising. “I didn’t mean anything by what I said. Quit
being so sensitive. Not everyone’s making fun of you behind your
back.”

“I’m sorry,” Cody said, holding his hands up. “I
just...” The door rattling in its frame interrupted him. All three
of their gazes shifted in the door’s direction.

Norman gulped as he fought to dispel the memories
he’d kept buried until today. There had been an investigation, his
lie had come out, and he was forced to admit that he had been with
Jimmy the whole time. Had witnessed his abduction, yet had refused
to say anything about it. In his defense he had never in a million
years even once considered the possibility that Jimmy was in any
more danger than a swift ass kicking and banishment to his house
after the two boys were done with him. When the truth came out, he
was sick to his stomach.