Ronald Malfi - Snow

“Burn it!” Meg screamed beside her, clutching onto Kate’s forearm with both her hands. “Burn it!”

Indeed, the creature’s scaly flank glowed as red as embers in a bonfire as it pulled rotations above their heads. Charred bits of scurf fluttered to the altar like confetti.

Just as one of the windows shattered behind her, Kate lunged forward and pulled one of the wall sconces from its seating. Charging up to the altar, she plunged the sconce into the flames, the heat from the growing inferno stinging her eyes and causing sweat to pop out of her pores.

“Kate!” Todd yelled at her. “Get down, Kate!”

Meg wailed and curled up in one corner. Directly above Meg’s head, one of the townspeople was attempting to climb in through the shattered window.

Proffering the flaming torch above her head, Kate stepped down off the altar and joined Todd, who was holding the pistol in both hands now, a look of utter perplexity on his face. Blood streaked his white skin—cheeks, forehead, neck, and chin.

Kate waved the torch and the creature pixilated into dust. Snow rained down from the rafters while more poured in through the opening in the roof.

Farther down the narthex, more windows imploded as fists were driven through the glass. Ghoulish shapes shimmied up over the sill and dropped down into the church.

“There’s a side door!” Todd shouted, pointing clear across the pulpit.

“Okay!” Kate shouted. It felt like the building was getting ready to shake apart. She turned to Meg and called for the girl but Meg wouldn’t move; she’d drawn her legs up into a fetal position and simply sat, rocking back and forth in the corner.

“Come on,” Todd said, grabbing Kate’s arm.

Kate pulled her arm loose. “Wait!” She ran to Meg and pulled her to her feet. Meg stumbled but followed. Kate shouted for Chris, too…and the boy popped up behind one of the pews, his flesh prickled with sweat and his priestly garb hanging off him like quilts. He hurried toward them just as something—something big —moved behind him in the shadows. The darkness seemed to separate from itself just as a white curl of powder engulfed Chris, bringing him screaming to the floor.

“Chris!” Meg shouted, and it took all of Kate’s strength to hang on to the girl.

Chris attempted to stand…but just as he got his feet under himself, something partially transparent and shaped like the blade of a hunting knife (only much, much bigger) speared out of the mist and plunged straight into Chris’s right shoulder.

Chris’s eyes bulged. His mouth dropped open and, a moment later, a black string of blood oozed out. He staggered and would have fallen, had he not been speared to the thing behind him.

A second curled talon appeared, this one the size of a school bus fender and about as solid as a strip of film projected onto a cloud of smoke. It sprung forward, reminding Kate of nature specials she’d seen as a kid, where scorpions jabbed their poison-tipped tails into the backs of spiders. The talon pierced Chris’s left shoulder, making the boy’s head roll loosely on his neck. Blood continued to spill from his agape mouth, staining the holy vestments he wore.

Meg buried her face in Kate’s chest.

Later on, Kate would recall Shawna Dupree’s words when thinking back on this event—about these things wearing people like puppets—because that was exactly what appeared to be happening. The darkened shape behind Chris seemed to loom up over him as it slid its bladed arms farther into Chris’s back. As it did so, Chris’s body jerked and squirmed, like a sock being fitted with an oversized foot. The cloud shape then seemed to fade into Chris’s back, as if sucked through a black hole, and as the last vestige of the creature withdrew into him, Chris’s eyes flipped open and his neck cocked at an angle in a mockery of life.

Everything went deathly silent. In the shadows behind Chris, Kate could make out the crenellated silhouettes of the townspeople inside the church while others paused halfway through the broken windows. They were surrounded.

“Hey,” said the Chris-thing. “Hey, Meg. Come on. Come here.”

Meg would not look at it. Kate hugged her tighter.

“Come on, Meg. Sis. Come on, little sister.” The Christhing shuffled forward, its steps as awkward as a toddler’s. He had the same empty look in his eyes as Eddie Clement had had when they picked him up on the side of the road. “Hey, now…”

“Fuck this,” Todd said, and kicked through the doors at the other end of the church. Freezing air filled the church. For a second, it seemed the torch in Kate’s hand would be extinguished, but the flame was strong and held on. Todd marshaled through the door and Kate followed, Meg still clinging to her.

Behind them, the Chris-thing screamed—a sound like a passing locomotive.

Todd staggered in the snow. His shoulders appeared to slouch. From over his shoulder, Kate saw what had deterred him: scattered around the grounds of the church were twenty or so townspeople, each one staring them down with dark, soulless eyes. Todd raised the gun, pointed it at one of them.

Directly above them, the sky looked like a volcanic eruption. Lightning flashed horizontally from cloud to cloud. There was no moon.

Todd grabbed Kate’s arm. “Use the fire if they get too close.” He pulled her through the snow while Kate, in turn, pulled Meg. The townspeople began closing in on them. Todd let a few rounds rip from the handgun but that didn’t seem to deter any of them, except for the one or two that went down from the force of the bullet. When clutching hands got too close, Kate singed them with the torch. One of the townspeople howled…and suddenly dropped to the snow like someone shucking off an old housedress. Something semitransparent and hulking flitted off into the night.

The church grounds sloped downward to Pascal Street. There were a number of dead vehicles staggered at intervals down the street and two tipped over on their sides in a nearby ravine. Todd led the charge, panting and out of breath by the time they reached the street. Kate nearly slammed into his back and managed to hold on to the torch before it tipped out of her hands and clattered down into the frozen culvert.

Kate chanced a look behind her.

The church was a black smear at the top of the hill. Thick smoke billowed up through the rent in the roof and melded with the low-clinging clouds. The lower windows were alive with firelight as the interior of the church burned. The townspeople still stood on the snowy slope, staring down at them. Strangely, none had pursued.

Something’s wrong here, Kate had time to think. Something is very, very wrong…

Though he was still breathing hard, Todd straightened up and began moving farther down the road. “Come on. We can’t stop now.”

Kate lifted the torch above her head and gripped Meg’s hand. It felt limp and lifeless; the girl was no doubt shocked into immobility by what she’d just witnessed happen to her brother. Kate tugged her through the icy streets, close on Todd’s heels.

“Where are we going?” Kate called to him. Before Todd could answer, she looked over at Meg. “Where do you think we should go? Where would be safe?”

The girl only stared at her without expression. She was still in shock.

“When I was up in the bell tower,” Todd said, “I saw a fire hall and a police station up this road. I don’t know the condition they’re in but we need to—”

A mound of snow burst up from the ground along the shoulder, showering the night in white crystals. A lion’s roar shook Kate to the marrow of her bones and she nearly dropped the torch. The snow rose up and towered over them, three stories high, undulating like the segmented body of a worm. A blade of ice protruded from it and reared up—