Chills, page 17
“Meg. Come on, girl, wake up,” Bessie was saying as she gently slapped her on the cheeks.
When Jared looked at Meg’s face, his heart sank. Her eyes were closed, and her lips were blue. Her face was so pale the skin looked translucent. He couldn’t detect the faintest stirring of breath.
No… he thought, his heart anguished. It can’t end like this…it can’t end this way…
~ 36 ~
Jared lost any sense of time as he sat there, watching numbly as Bessie tried to resuscitate Meg. The roaring wind and stinging snow faded away as he tried to grasp what had happened, and he finally came to a place where he accepted it. Meg was dead, and after everything else he and the rest of his friends had been through tonight, he was resigned to his own death as well.
He was only dimly aware that Bessie had stopped repeating words like “Come on, girl” and “Wake up.” When she said, “Ahh, there you go,” Jared was so numbed with grief and despair that he barely registered the words. His heart gave a powerful kick in his chest when he looked over and saw Meg’s eyelids fluttering and then open.
She was looking directly at him with a distant, glazed look.
She could still be dead… She could be a ghost like the others… he thought, but then he heard a loud rushing sound as she took a breath, and the light returned to her eyes. Her face was a vision of beauty, and tears sprang to Jared’s eyes as he looked at her.
“Yeah, there yah go,” Bessie said as she stood up and then leaned down to help Meg stand up. Jared sprang to his feet to help, thrilling to the warmth of her touch when he gripped her hand.
Meg looked back and forth between them, still disoriented.
“I… What happened?” she asked, her voice so faint it was barely audible above the sound of the wind.
“The roof gave way, and you got buried under some snow.”
Meg let that thought settle in her mind, but Jared saw the spark in her eyes as the memory of what they were dealing with gradually came back to her. She rolled her head from side to side and moved her arms, rotating her shoulders.
“We have to get out of here,” she said, her voice tinged, now, with rising panic.
“You’re telling me,” Jared said. He stepped closer to her and grabbed her with both hands on the upper arms. “How do you feel?”
“Like someone’s been banging on me with a sledgehammer.”
Jared smiled at that and then glanced at Bessie. Ashley was standing in the doorway, looking anxious to leave.
“Thanks,” Meg said, looking intently at Jared. Her eyes closed as he started to move his face closer to hers, but before they could kiss, another even louder boom sounded from the roof.
“The whole damned thing’s gonna give way,” Bessie said.
Jared grabbed Meg’s hand and squeezed it tightly.
“I’m not letting go…ever,” he said with an intensity he had never experienced before.
Meg looked at him, but when she smiled, it was a grim, determined smile. Then she said softly, “See that you don’t.”
Lining up with Jared in the lead with Meg right beside him and Ashley and Bessie behind them, they went out into the storm. Meg had thought that being outside couldn’t possibly be any worse than inside, but she soon realized just how wrong she was.
She had never experienced such a powerful wind, even in the one hurricane she had lived through. The wind drove the snow like stinging pellets into her face and every area of exposed skin. It took her breath away even when she lowered her head and stared down at the snow, which was halfway up her thighs. The few times she chanced to look up, all she could see was an absolute whiteout.
Meg clung to Jared’s hand with her left hand and Ashley’s with her right. Ashley, in turn, was holding on to her mother with the other hand. Fitful gusts of wind threatened to break their holds on each other as, heads bowed, they forged their way, high-stepping to clear the deepest snow. They avoided deeper drifts as best they could.
Meg felt as though she was wading in the ocean with a wild, churning surf that would sweep her under the instant she loosened her grip on Jared’s hand.
“How you doing?” she called out, but either the others didn’t hear her, or else their replies were drowned out by the screeching wind. Meg’s breath trailed behind her like puffs of smoke that were instantly whipped away in the night. They hadn’t gone far—had only reached the first row of parking lot lights, in fact—and already she was exhausted. She wanted to stop for a moment and catch her breath, if that was possible, but she knew how tempting it would be simply to lie down in the deep snow and fall asleep.
Let the wind and snow blow over her. At least then the pain and fear would be over.
But then they’ll come and get me and take me to where they are, she thought, and with a sudden flood of panic, she redoubled her efforts to keep going.
She wondered if Jared had any idea where to go.
Had Bessie told him or pointed out where her car was, or were they walking blind?
For all she knew, they could be headed in the wrong direction. When she looked around, she couldn’t make out much of anything. Behind her, even the mall was lost in the raging darkness. She began to wonder if she was even holding Jared’s and Ashley’s hands, or if she was imagining it. She wondered with a growing rush of panic if the dark silhouette in front of her even was Jared. Maybe—somehow—she had taken hold of Alan’s hand, instead, and he was leading her off to death.
Death would be a sweet relief, she thought, knowing she had to keep moving and trying not to listen to the voice that was telling her she wasn’t strong enough…that she didn’t deserve to live.
Alan was right.
I should have died with them.
She knew, if she had gotten into his car that night, she would have died.
But maybe not, she thought.
If she had gotten into the car with Alan that night, the short delay to stop and pick her up would have changed everything. Even if the car had skidded out the same way, the snowplow would have gone by already, and at worst the car would have run smack into the snowbank.
Maybe none of them would have died if she hadn’t been so angry and selfish.
And if Alan truly was waiting out here for her, perhaps she owed it to him to die tonight, if only so his spirit could finally rest in peace.
The wind shrieked and howled all around her. When she raised her head to look where they were going, she was positive she could see shapes—dark figures—hovering in the snow, shifting around her in a wild, maddening swirl. Faces loomed out at her and then withdrew into the storm, their eyes dead, their mouths wide open with screaming laughter as they taunted her.
“… We don’t like it here, Meg…”
“… Not without you…”
“… Come and join us…”
“… You should have died with us…”
Meg listened to the chorus of voices, trying to convince herself that they weren’t real. She was imagining them. The thought that she was having another mental breakdown—or that she had never gotten over the first one—struck terror through her. She moaned softly, shaking her head from side to side with adamant denial.
Whatever else happened, she was convinced. She had to believe that what she had seen was real. The ghosts or spirits of her dead friends really were haunting her…and they wanted her to die.
So why not die?
Even as she asked herself that question, Jared looked back at her. She could barely make out his face in the storm, but she was sure he was smiling at her when he said, “You doing okay?”
She nodded, but she felt strangely isolated as the storm enveloped her. She clung to his and Ashley’s hands, but she had a weird sense of being absolutely alone as she tensed, waiting for Alan and her friends to suddenly appear out of the swirling chaos.
Looking around, what she saw instead was something so small, so faint it seemed unreal. Far off in the distance in the direction of the highway, she caught sight of an incredibly small flickering of yellow light. First one, then several lights pulsing in rhythm resolved out of the storm. They looked like fireflies, flashing in a field on a foggy summer night.
Meg drew up short and almost lost her grip on Jared’s hand.
“What is it?” someone said. It sounded like Ashley, but her voice was so faint that Meg couldn’t be sure.
Without saying a word, she let go of Ashley’s hand and pointed.
“Over there!” she yelled, still pointing with her free hand.
The others huddled together, their backs breaking the wind so Meg could catch her breath.
“I saw lights!”
Now, everyone looked to where she was pointing and, sure enough, the flashing lights were real. As they got closer, they became more defined. Within seconds, they all knew what they were.
A snowplow.
“Hold on! Stay together!” Bessie shouted when Jared started running toward the plow, running with a high-stepping, awkward gait. He was only thirty or so feet away from them, but he heard her and stopped, waiting for everyone else to catch up with him. Then, all holding hands like before, they started trudging toward a point where they thought they would be able to intersect with the path of the oncoming snowplow.
But distances were difficult, if not impossible, to judge in the storm, and it wasn’t long before Meg realized they weren’t going to cross the plow’s path until after it had passed.
Waving his hands wildly, Jared started yelling, “Wait! Stop!” but the snow muffled his voice as if he were screaming into a pillow. Even Meg, who was close to him, could barely hear him above the howling winds. Ensconced in the cab of his truck, there was no way the driver was going to hear him. Already, the snowplow was moving away from them down the road, the lights steadily dimming and the grinding sound of the plow on the asphalt receding into nothing.
For a heartbeat or two, the four of them stood there in a semi-circle, watching the snowplow move away and trying to accept that they had missed their chance to get out of the storm and to safety. Finally, Bessie grabbed Ashley’s and Jared’s hands and gave them a firm tug.
“Let’s find my car and get out of here,” she said. “If the plows are out, that means the roads must be drivable.”
They all agreed to that and, snuggling down inside their jackets as much as they could, started back the way they had come. Already, the snow had obliterated the tracks they had made, and once again, Meg worried that they might head in the wrong direction. But she pushed her rising panic aside, determined simply to follow wherever Jared led them.
She wasn’t in charge.
She had to trust Jared and Aunt Bessie to get all of them out of this life-threatening situation.
The wind whistled as it blew across the wide expanse of the mall parking lot. The streetlights cast a luminescent glow that hovered above them like an alien spacecraft. In the direct light of the streetlights, the snow traced thick white lines that looked like lengths of string. The raw power was almost beautiful, Meg thought, as long as it didn’t end up killing them.
“Are you sure of where we’re going?” Ashley called out, echoing Meg’s concern.
Jared’s only response was to wave his free hand above his head, beckoning them forward. At some point—she wasn’t sure when—Meg had the distinct impression that there were more than the four people traipsing across the parking lot. It wasn’t the wind pushing and tugging at her, trying to knock her down; it was as if hands—hands she couldn’t see—were poking and slapping her, throwing her off balance. When she turned and looked behind her and to the side, she caught fleeting glimpses of figures that couldn’t possibly be there. She told herself they had to be illusions caused by the blowing snow.
But then the voices returned.
They were clearer, now, high and shrill like the wind whipping through the telephone wires.
“… We don’t like it here, Meg…”
“… Not without you…”
“… We’re coming for you…”
“… You have no idea how lonely it is without you…”
“… We’re going to watch them die…”
“… All of them…”
“… And then you’re coming with us…”
Meg staggered, her legs barely able to keep moving. She lost her grip on both hands she was holding and, after staggering a few steps, her knees buckled. With a soft moan, she went down. Her face broke the surface of the snow as if she had dived into a lake. She heard her own muffled moan and thought it sounded like someone was in agony, but she had no idea she had made the sound.
I’m not going with you, she either thought or said out loud. She couldn’t distinguish which. It’s not my time!
“… We’ve been waiting so long…”
“… And now it’s time for you to come to us…”
No! Meg thought or shouted. It might have been your time, but it wasn’t mine then…and it isn’t mine now!
But no matter how much she resisted, the darkness collapsed all around her. The last clear thought she had was, I’m dying.
She had no idea how long she was “gone,” but at some point, she began to feel a hard tugging on her shoulder. For a moment, she thought she was back in the store, being crushed under a pile of snow in the backroom. Then faintly, as if from the opposite shore of a lake, she heard someone calling a name. It took her an indeterminable time for her to realize it was her own name. Once she did, she realized that she didn’t have the will or the energy to respond.
“… Meg…”
“… Come on…”
“… Stay with us…”
She had no idea who was calling her, but at some point, this voice blended into other voices…or was it the sound of the wind, blowing over the snow and covering her?
“… You can’t punk out on us now…”
“… We don’t like it here…”
“… You’re coming with us…”
“… You should have died with us…”
She found herself equally drawn to and repelled by the voices calling to her. They joined and mingled and swelled, rising in intensity until something cold and hard was hitting her face. She had a momentary sensation of falling and tumbling, and then the ground or whatever she was lying on stabilized. She peered into the surrounding darkness, trying to see, but the darkness was too dense.
“… Come on, Meg…”
“… We came back for you…”
“… You gotta get up…”
“… We can’t leave her here…”
“… It’s not far now…”
“… We’re not leaving without you…”
“… Is she dead?”
No, I’m not dead!
That single thought burst across her mind like a dazzling beam of light.
I’m not dead…and I don’t want to die!
She winced as she stared at the light growing steadily brighter, even though she was aware that something—a dark, looming shape—was partially blocking it.
Her eyelids fluttered. Snow and ice and warm tears were running down the sides of her face. When she inhaled, it felt like she hadn’t taken a breath in…she had no idea how long. The air burned her throat as it rushed into her lungs like a splash of ice water.
Am I drowning? she wondered, but she knew she wasn’t. She couldn’t be. It was too cold for there to be any unfrozen water.
Her vision gradually cleared, and she found herself looking up at Jared, who was leaning over her. His face was so close to hers she could feel the warmth of his breath before the frigid wind whisked it away. Beyond him, two other shapes, backlit by the streetlight overhead, hovered in the storm. She knew they were Bessie and Ashley.
“Hey,” she managed to say, but that was all. Her throat felt like it was on fire, and it got worse every time she took a shallow breath.
“Aw’right!” Jared said, clapping her on the shoulder hard enough to jostle her. She was losing sensation in her body by the second, but she tried to work with them as Jared and Bessie raised her slowly to her feet.
This is getting habitual, she thought with a chuckle.
Her mind gradually cleared, but she was frantic, wanting to look around to see if those other faces—the faces of her dead friends—were still nearby in the storm.
“Can you still walk?” Jared asked, moving close so she could lean against him.
“I think so,” she said, but she was so cold, and her muscles were so stiff, it felt like she was leaning against a tree. She was certain that her legs would give out on her if Jared let go of her. Sucking in a breath, she raised one foot. It felt like lead. She groaned when she swung it out in front of her, and it disappeared into the snow. When she shifted her weight forward, her knees buckled again, but this time, she didn’t go down.
“You know, scientists say that walking is nothing more than a controlled fall,” she said and then sniffed with laughter at the thought.
“Well, no more falling, controlled or otherwise,” Jared said. “Just keep moving.”
“You’re the boss.”
She was having difficulty hearing him above the roaring of the storm, but she clenched her jaw tightly and forced herself to keep moving, one step at a time.
“It’s not far now,” Bessie shouted, but Meg didn’t bother to look up. She simply kept moving, her legs aching as she lifted one foot after the other to clear the snow and then shift forward, step by excruciating step.
They were in the middle of the parking lot when Meg heard and felt a deep rumbling throughout her body. At first, she thought it was muscle tremors from the exertion, but as the feeling grew steadily stronger, she became convinced the ground was shaking, not her. She tugged on Ashley’s hand to make her stop. The others stopped as well.
“What is it?” Bessie shouted, but she didn’t need to wait for an answer. She and the rest of them saw the yellow flashing lights of the snowplow coming up the road. They were almost to the road themselves. The other three all started running toward the head-high plow ridge that separated the mall parking lot from the highway.
“Wait!”
“Stop!”
