Jenn McKinlay - Due Or Die

Nancy brought in a tray laden with mugs of cocoa and a plate full of macaroons. If this was blizzard survival, Lindsey felt like she could manage this no problem.

Then the power went out. Lindsey was in her own apartment, reading in bed, when the lights blinked the first time. The wind had become a steady ferocious roar, and when she looked out the window into the darkness of the night, she felt the nor’easter pressing against the fragile window panes like a peeper trying to get a look-see.

The puppy had come upstairs with her and had sprawled himself next to her with his head on the neighboring pillow. Lindsey settled back in bed, turned the page of her book and her reading lamp went out.

Thinking it might be the bulb, Lindsey reluctantly left the cozy warmth of her bed and stumbled across the room to the light switch that controlled the overhead lamp. She flicked it on. Nothing. She tried the bathroom switch. Nothing.

A feeling of vulnerability swept over her much as she tried to ignore it. She took a deep breath. There was no need to panic. The power would be back shortly; all she had to do was wait it out.

She thought about lighting a candle but figured she may as well just go to sleep. It was early, but it had been an intense few days and probably she could use the shut-eye.

She took one step toward the bed when a high-pitched scream out-shrieked the howl of the wind, making Lindsey jump and Heathcliff bark. Snatching up her bathrobe, she pulled it on and rushed to the door. She knew it had to be either Carrie or Nancy who had screamed. She hoped no one had fallen in the dark.

She had no idea how she could get someone to the hospital in this weather. Then again, Carrie was a nurse, so they were in good hands, unless it was her and she was unconscious.

The hallway was black. With the power off, it was impossible to make out the stairs. Lindsey reached out with her hands, trying to find the banister. She inched forward slowly, not wanting to slam into it.

Finally, she felt the wood beneath her fingers. She could feel the dog pressing close to her side, and she was grateful for the contact. The relentless darkness spooked her more than she would have thought. Why hadn’t she grabbed her flashlight?

She inched her way toward the stairs, feeling the floor with her sock-clad feet. When she felt the edge of the first step, she eased her way down the steps.

A beam of light shot up from below, and she could just make out the rest of the steps. She moved more quickly now.

“Nancy, is that you?”

There was a beat of silence and Lindsey felt her heart hammer in her chest.

“Yes, it’s me.” Nancy’s voice echoed up the hallway. “Did you hear that scream?”

“Yes, have you seen Carrie?”

“I’m on my way there now,” Nancy said.

“I’ll meet you there,” Lindsey said.

Together they arrived on the second-floor landing. Nancy knocked on the door, but there was no response.

“Carrie, it’s us, open up,” Lindsey shouted.

There was no answer and Heathcliff started to whimper.

“Do you have a key?” Lindsey asked.

“I think so,” Nancy said. “Here, hold the flashlight.”

Lindsey trained the meager light onto Nancy’s hands. They shook with cold or agitation as she flipped through her key ring until she found what she was looking for.

“Are you sure this is all right?”

“We have to make sure she’s okay,” Lindsey said.

“You’re right.” Nancy turned and banged on the door again. “Carrie, we’re coming in.”

No answer.

She unlocked the door and they hurried into the room. Lindsey wasn’t sure where to shine the light so she swept it across the room like a searchlight. It bounced off pictures and furniture, and as they followed it farther into the room, Lindsey felt a bitterly cold draft sweep over her. She could hear Heathcliff sniffing the floor, and he left her to follow the cold air.

The beam of the flashlight picked out a figure framed in an open window. Gusts of wind and pelting snow swirled in around it, but the body didn’t move.

“She’s not going to jump, is she?” Nancy asked. Her voice was filled with horror.

Lindsey wasn’t about to wait to find out. She dashed forward and grabbed Carrie by the elbow, hauling her back into the room.

“Shut the window,” she ordered, and Nancy hurried forward, slamming the window shut with a bang.

Lindsey set the flashlight on its end so that its beam illuminated the part of the main room in which they stood. She snatched an afghan off the back of the couch and wrapped Carrie in it. Her flannel pajamas were icy cold and damp. The snow on her head was beginning to melt and her teeth were chattering.

“Carrie, are you all right?” Lindsey asked. She rubbed Carrie’s arms through the blanket, hoping to get some warmth coursing through her.

“It was him,” she said.

The flashlight illuminated Carrie’s eyes from below. The whites circled the irises like big saucers. Her brown hair was mussed from the wind and snow. She was shivering and looked as if she was going into shock.

“Him who?” Lindsey asked.

“Markus.”

“What? Where?” Nancy asked.

“I saw his ghost,” Carrie said. “Outside the window.”

“There are no such things as ghosts,” Lindsey said. “And even if there were, they don’t hang outside windows.”

“I’m sure it was him,” Carrie said. “He’s haunting me. I know it. He wants me to find his killer, or maybe, maybe he wants to kill me.”

BRIAR CREEK

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“I think she’s in shock,” Lindsey said.

“Let’s get her down to my place,” Nancy said. “She can spend the night there. In fact, we’ll all sleep there. This storm is officially terrifying me.”

Lindsey understood. A nor’easter was one thing, but a storm like this without power was nothing to mess with, and the thought of staying up on the third floor during hurricane-force winds wasn’t really working for her.

“My fireplace has a standing pilot ignition system, so it can switch on without electricity. I had it installed for just this sort of situation,” Nancy said. “We’ll light a fire and camp out in the living room.”

“Sounds like an excellent plan,” Lindsey agreed.

They half carried, half dragged Carrie down the stairs to Nancy’s apartment. The old house ran on an oil furnace, but with the extreme cold, it was having a hard time combating the bitter wind that seemed determined to infiltrate the house through any crack or crevice. And now with the power out, the remaining warmth was going to disappear in a matter of hours.

Nancy lit several candles around the living room, and their fragile glow seemed to force back the creepy shadows to the corners of the room. Lindsey switched on the gas fireplace while Nancy went to make some food.

Still wrapped in her blanket, Carrie knelt beside the hearth.

“I know I must sound like I’m crazy,” she said.

“No, you sound like you had a very bad dream, and with all that you’ve been through and this vicious storm, it’s small wonder,” Lindsey said.

Carrie was silent and Lindsey had the feeling she hadn’t heard a word she’d said.

As she turned the knob higher to increase the gas flow, the fire in the fireplace leapt up, wrapping the faux ceramic logs in its hot hungry mouth.

Carrie turned her back to the fire, letting the heat dry out her clothes. Lindsey wished she had some words of comfort for her.

Nancy bustled in with a tray laden with crusty bread, Havarti cheese, sweet pickles and a pitcher of milk. Perfect. Lindsey was beginning to think of Nancy as always coming to the rescue with a tray of goodies.