Despite the biting wind and surrounding darkness, I couldn’t help but feel a childlike glee as the snow crunched beneath my boots. Each step was a miniature symphony, a testament to the eight inches of powder that blanketed the fields like a pristine new blanket. It was most likely the novelty of never getting snow when you saddle the Alabama and Tennessee border. Moonlight, slightly escaping the thick clouds, occasionally flooded the landscape, transforming the fields into shimmering pools of bright light. Even the frozen pond in the center, usually cloaked in shadows, glinted like a forgotten coin.
This beauty, however, couldn’t quite drown out the gnawing unease twisting in my gut. The wind, whistling through the bare trees, seemed to toy with the rickety barn I was passing by. With each gust, its weathered wood groaned, the building lurching drunkenly against the night. In any other setting, the crunchy serenade and moonlit spectacle would have been pure magic. But tonight, under the watchful eye of that dilapidated structure, I felt uneasy as I continued up the hill. Normally, the hill was an easy stroll, but now it felt as if I was scaling a mountain. At the top, I could see the light pour from the windows on the snow below.
With a grunt, I continued the tiring climb, eyes drawn to the red pickup truck buried beneath a thick blanket of snow. Two footprints, the signs from the warm house, pointed downwards, the field and the cement bridge over the creek bed where packed snow concealed a treacherous sheet of ice. Reaching the top, I paused to catch my breath before navigating to the front door. A quick kick sent a flurry of white powder dancing from my boots and pant legs before I finally stepped inside.
The house reeked of stale coffee, burning firewood and unease. I found my wife huddled on the sofa, a tangled mess of brown hair cascading down her pale face, exhaustion etched in the shadows beneath her eyes. When I spoke, “How’s he feeling?” my voice rasped, the question catching in the thick throat of worry.
Her face, glazed and distant, remained fixed on the window leaving the light colored walls of the room only to stare out from the window to the sea of white that laid outside. “I think even if we could get down the hill in the truck that bridge itself is too slippery to risk. We would just end up in the creek bed,” I continued.
The silence returned, heavier now, a suffocating feeling that muffled my hope. Each crackle of fire resonated like a hammer blow against my chest. Finally, I said, “Another night then? We’ll see how things stand at dawn. When the sun rises, I’ll make my way down there myself. But depending on the weather, afternoon might be the earliest…”
My words trailed off, yearning for a reply, any crack in the wall of her worry. But she remained motionless, a statue built of a silent grief. The air grew thick with unspoken fear, the only response to the howling of the wind outside. I walked over to the kitchen pouring a cup of coffee for myself. It was going to be another long night.
Entering the room, I found him silent, unmoving. The familiar shade of his mother’s hair plastered damply to his forehead. I rested my hand gently on his forehead. The poor child was burning up. I reached for the thermometer laying on the bedside table to see the glass next to it. The clear glass full of sprite still whispering with bubbles, sat untouched. The child had not stirred since I had walked to the bridge that hung over the creek bed.
The thermometer beeped, its soft sound crushing my own hope for good news. A frantic press of the button revealed the harsh truth: 103.8 degrees. “Dammit,” I muttered, the plastic digging into my palm. Pacing the blue colored room, frustration turned to fear. We were prisoners of winter, phones useless without wifi, and of course, even that had decided to abandon us. Trapped forty five minutes away from the nearest town, and me, the only one willing to whisper a word. It was starting to become maddening.
A sliver of light peeked through the gap in the curtains, illuminating a scene that left me without words. The light suspended in the field below the hill, a luminous orb of white light pulsed softly, casting an eerie glow on the snow-covered expanse. It wasn’t the familiar twinkle of reflected moonlight on the frozen pond; this was something different.
I stood transfixed to the window, mesmerized by the spectacle. My mind raced for a rational explanation. Was it a drone, a strange weather phenomenon, or something altogether more… fantastical? The possibilities swirled in my head, each one leaving more questions in my mind than actual answers.
The unsettling thoughts fled my mind as I saw the orb had finally budged. No longer rooted, but moving slowly, inching closer to the house as if with purpose. Panic surged through me. I bolted out of the room, racing toward the front door. My wife remained on the couch, frozen like a statue. “Honey, keep an eye on him,” I managed, my voice strained with a tremor. “There’s something outside.”
Silence. Again. I stepped outside, the frigid wind instantly biting into my skin. The orb, previously a distant anomaly, now loomed in the distance, its slow approach mirrored by the intensifying snowfall from the night sky above. I walked down the stairs leaving another set of footprints on the stairs.
I walked over the edge of the hill, my eyes fixed on the glowing orb inching closer to my house, closer to my family. “Hello? Is anyone there?” I screamed, my voice ragged.
I stepped towards the down slope on the slick snow, my boots failing to find traction as I stumbled downhill. One misstep sent me sprawling, tumbling headfirst into the cold pit that laid at the bottom of the hill.. Snow clung to my clothes like a shroud, the harsh cold biting into my skin. Dazed, I lay there, the white snow greeting my face.
I heaved myself up, my arms struggling as I lifted my head. The white orb still hung motionless. Eyes squinting against the blizzard, I stared into the pulsating light, searching for its source. “Hello?” I rasped, the word painful by the cut of another burst of cold wind.
Then, it shifted. The orb dipped, revealing a hulking figure shrouded in a puffy black coat. Details were drowned out by the snow, but I could feel the weight of his gaze as I scrambled to stand. “Who are you?” I asked, panicked.
Cloaked in the shadows and snow falling,, a deep voice bellowed, “Who are you?”
Startled, I realized I hadn’t introduced myself to the neighbors. Maybe I should have done it earlier, but I hadn’t really thought about it. We hadn’t lived here for very long, but we were originally what the area would call city folk, who had moved into the area searching for bigger houses and not paying city premiums for it. “You one of the neighbors?” I asked, sheepishly
A guttural laugh echoed. “None of your concern.”
Unsettled, I pressed, “What does that even mean?”
His silhouette stiffened. “Means you don’t belong here,” he growled, the spotlight in his hand casting an ominous glow.
“My heart hammered, but I forced a retort. ‘Excuse me? This is my home.’
The spotlight snapped to my face at my defiance, almost blinding me. ‘”Now I know your face, city boy. I’ll be back.”
“What do you mean you will be back?”
A chilling chuckle hung in the air. “You’ve been bleeding a while, friend” The figure slowly vanished into the darkness, leaving only a trail of heavy foot prints and the echo of his threat. I stood there stiff trying to get my bearings.
The man’s final words hung in the air as I stood frozen, the sting of warmth sliding down my cheek. Rubbing my face, I found red smeared beneath my fingers. My fall, worse than I thought, or my adrenaline’s tease? But the sight of my own blood snapped me back. Scaling the hill, I burst through the front door, slamming it shut like a barrier against the winter terror.
“He threatened us!” I gasped, checking the snow-swirled darkness out the window. “Where’s Claire?”
No answer. The living room couch, empty. She was just just here, I thought to myself. I raced towards the bedroom, imagining her huddled with our child. But the blue room held only the untouched glass of Sprite on the nightstand only.
“Where are you?” I screamed, then saw it again - the distant light, defiant in the field. Cold air tickled my neck. The back door, swinging open in the wind. “You have to stay in the house, someone is out there and he threatened me,” I said cautiously walking to the door stepping outside to the familiar crunch of snow beneath my feet.
The winter silence swallowed my voice whole as I called out, “Sweetie? Are you out there?” My eyes strained past the barely visible trees silhouetted against the property line, their bare branches like bony fingers scratching at the fading twilight. Stepping out onto the back porch, I felt embraced by the icy caress of winter, drawing it in deep as I tried to pierce the gathering darkness.
Below, my gaze snagged on a trail of footprints marring the pristine white canvas of the snow. Each step was an accusation, a silent testament to an unseen presence. Had the man with the light been a mere decoy, a sinister plot to distract me? Were there two of them, stalking the shadows like wolves in the night?
A shiver, not just from the cold, danced down my spine. Curiosity, barbed with unease, urged me forward. I followed the footprints, their rhythm erratic against the snow. They snaked around the house, culminating in deep imprints beside the truck. Here, the snow had surrendered to the weight, yielding to the pressure of a pause, a moment’s indecision. Had they tried to flee, only to find the escape route locked shut?
My eyes glued to what felt like a bread crumb trail, I watched the footprints snake down the slope, leading to the rickety barn. I made another glance towards the field, I saw the light vanish entirely, swallowed by the night. A prickling sensation crept down my spine; we were being toyed with. But I had to find them. Carefully, I descended the hill, the barn’s weathered wood again groaning in every passing breeze.
I reached the door, slightly cracked and rattling precariously in the wind. Pushing it open, I stepped inside. The cold had wrenched life from the dirt floor, hardening it like stone. Most of the interior was shrouded in dark green plastic covering the tool shelves and equipment.
My voice barely above a whisper, I hissed, “Are you here? We need to get back to the house, lock everything up. We’re in danger!”
A harsh crumple of plastic ripped through the darkness of the barn. Metal clattered on the cold dirt, the sound raw with panic. Someone – or something – was in here with me, and it wasn’t my family.
“Where are they?” I shrieked, the question hurting from my throat.
More plastic rasped, more objects tumbled. The unseen presence stirred with a frantic energy, its movements bordering on desperation. I lurched forward, tearing at the suffocating green sheet, desperate to see. Below, a workbench spilled with chaos – tools flung across its dusty surface. The unseen sound continued, whether for escape or attack, I couldn’t tell.
“Where are they?” I screamed again, each word being an angry sob, as I yanked another sheet free, revealing the rusty old lawnmower beneath it. It almost felt like it was trying to run as I heard feet dash to another place in the camouflage of darkness.
Another shape sitting idly in the corner. I lunged toward it, hands clenched into fists. An scared gasp, a tremor running through whatever huddled beneath. I’d cornered it, whoever it was. “Fucking found you,” I roared, knuckles white as I tore away the final veil, revealing the figure hiding beneath.
A frail figure with a drooping white beard stood shivering in front of me. His eyes darted like those of a trapped animal, his lips almost the color blue, and his weathered face creased with fear. Light-colored sweatpants and a dark sweatshirt, both plastered with snow, frozen dirt, and something else – crimson streaks, scattered across his body.
“Please,” he whimpered, voice raspy with cold, “Let me in, I’m freezing!”
“Where are they?” My fists clenched involuntarily, sending a fresh tremor through the shivering man. His eyes, already wide, bulged further. “Where is my family?”
“I was just trying to help,” he whined loudly. “Please, I will die out here if you don’t let me in!”
“I just want to know where my family went!”
My fingers dug into the clammy wool of his sweatshirt, adrenaline making my grip ironclad. He thrashed beneath me, a wild fury twisting his features. “I only wanted to help!” he rasped, the words tumbling over each other in a desperately
A bright light speared through the barn door, briefly blinding me. The frail old man noticed this, quickly. I felt his hands shove against my chest, sending me staggering back. I sprawled onto the dirt, watching as he scurried towards the light like a frightened rat.
Scrambling to my feet, I lunged forward, but the sun glare was searing, a blinding barrier between me and my attacker. The light stayed paused, silhouetted against the light, followed by a mocking laughter echoing in the barn. “Just leave us alone!” I roared, my voice raw with despair.
As I neared the barn door, the light went out again, as if both men had simply vanished. The snow’s fury escalated: snow plastered my vision white, wind clawed at the barn’s weathered boards, and tree limbs lashed out in a silent duel. Through it all, one sound pierced the chaos - the man’s echoing laughter, laced with harsh triumph, “Told you, city boy, you don’t belong here!”
The cold air snapped at my face, the snow devouring everything around me. Through the flurries, I glimpsed two silhouettes, wrestling with the storm towards the end of the field. They were heading to the bridge. My own feet drug through the snow, driven by anger and fear. I was going to catch up to the two men who had tormented me. But wait… One of those figures… much smaller than the other. The wind struck again, blowing the largest figure to reveal its dark color. I knew then that it wasn’t the men.
It was my family.
“Get back to the house!” I roared, each word a punch into the blizzard. My legs sank in snow with each desperate lunge, the distance to their retreating figures widening like a chasm. “The bridge! It’s too dangerous!” But they continued on, swallowed by the storm.
Cold gnawed at my limbs, turning them limp. I had to reach them, drag them back to the fireplace’s warmth, huddle and plan defenses together. I noticed my shadow suddenly appeared before me. The sinister bright light was now bathing me from behind.
“Keep going, get off this land,” The voice echoed behind me.
I put my head down, I pushed against the wind, the only thing left in this field drowned by snow. Stopping wasn’t an option. The snow kept going down harder with every inch I took, making it impossible to find any trail of their shoe prints, but I knew they were heading to the bridge.
“Keep going, city boy,” the man shouted, slowly trailing behind me, his words dripping with malice and the hope of our cold deaths. I squinted the gravel road, a silvery ribbon cutting through the flurries, but still no flicker of movement, no sign of my wife and son. They had to be there. Where were they?
“Almost there!” the voice cackled, punctuated by the wind’s unforgiving song. I tucked my head lower, trying to shield my face from winter’s bite. My foot struck a hidden patch of ice, sending me sprawling onto the snow-crusted earth. Pins and needles erupted across my skin, a harsh contrast to the numbness my legs were feeling.
“Oh, so close!” The laughter echoed, a taunt lost in the howl of the blizzard.
“Fuck you!” I snapped back as I pushed myself up in defiance. I could see the bridge in the distance and kept pushing on.
“Oh, look at you, got some fight left, don’t ya?” he taunted and erupted in laughter, once again.
“Why are you doing this?” I said begging.
“It don’t matter, I just want you to keep going!”
I felt a glimpse of hope flickered, faint yet enough to keep me pushing.. Each step was like I was in combat with nature, but I battled it with defiance to reach my family. It was dark. I turned to see the man and his bright spot light had once again disappeared.
“Hello? We have to get back to the house,” I urged as I continued to walk to the bridge. I did not see any sight of my wife and son. “Where are you?”
My foot hit the bridge, a slick shock that jolted me upright. Where were they? Desperate, I peered down the seven-foot plunge to the creek bed. There, in the frozen creek, something dark, indistinct but enormous. My breath caught in my throat.
It was a car. It had flipped into the creek bed.
“Shit,” I muttered under my breath, stepping off the bridge and skirting the edge for a better view. Had these two men emerged from the wreckage? Did they decide rather than ask nicely they would rather take my house with no regard for me and my family?
I spied a tangle of branches clinging near the slope. Gripping them like a a rope, I began my descent, each step sending snow tumbling down the frozen creek bed below. My boots, already wet against the unforgiving terrain, offered little grip, but I had to check it.
Finally, my boots crunched onto the frozen surface of the creek. A faint, amber glow pulsed from the mangled car lodged precariously against the far bank, drawing me closer. With each cautious step, the glow intensified. I first thought it was a headlight, but strangely it seemed to be coming from the driver side strangely enough. It grew brighter as I started to see someone was stuck in the wreckage.
Only the spotlight greeted my question, blinding me again. A familiar voice, different from the taunts before, cut through the haze. “Mister, wake up,” it said.
Another voice, equally familiar, joined it. “Hold on, the ambulance is on its way.” My eyes focused through blur and pain, I saw two men in the beam, their faces obscured. My forehead throbbed, as I lifted my head to feel the blood oozing down.
“Where is my family?” I whimpered in pain.
The man pointed to the side of the creek bed where I saw the two of them standing there with worry on their face and said, “Don’t you worry, they are safe. It seems you were the only one who got hurt.”