White Walker by Richard Schiver Page A

seen?” Teddy
said.
    “Nothing!” Norman said.
    “Bullshit,” Cody said, “you saw something out there,
I know you did.”
    Norman turned his bleak gaze on Cody, who settled
back into his seat, silenced by the terror in Norman’s eyes.
    “I didn’t see anything. Now shut up,” Norman said
before he returned his gaze to the back door.
    They became silent, each retreating into their own
thoughts, as Judy returned and busied herself helping each of them
into their winter coats.
     

Chapter 18
     
    Teddy’s question had struck a nerve with Cody, who
had grown up in a dysfunctional home ruled by a drunken old man who
hadn’t put in an honest day’s work his entire life. His mother had
been forced by circumstance to work three jobs to keep the bills
paid, put food on the table, and keep his father immersed in a
drunken stupor.
    To this day, he could not understand what it was his
mother had seen in his father. He also learned, the hard way, that
alcoholism was for him a fact of life. Of all the things he could
have inherited from his parents, he got stuck with the one thing he
didn’t want. He was so afraid of becoming just like his old man,
yet at the same time the allure of becoming lost in a drunken
stupor was too much for him to resist.
    His friends were no help. They were always after him
to go out and get drunk. And it was so easy, drink a few beers, a
couple of shots of whiskey, and kiss his sorry-ass life goodbye for
a few hours. He could pretend that he was important. That he really
mattered.
    But you do matter, Cody, that sinister voice
whispered in his mind, accompanied by the crunch of snow beneath a
booted foot . Open the door, let me in, I will make your life
matter.
    “Get out of my mind,” Cody whispered as he clamped
his hands over his ears.
    “What’s wrong, Cody?” Teddy said.
    “Is he all right?” Judy said.
    Cody lowered his head as he growled in his
throat.
    “It’s the stranger,” Norman said. “He’s gotten into
Cody’s mind.
    “How do you know that?” Teddy said.
    “Because he’s been in my mind, digging through my
memories, looking for a weakness he can use.”
    “Why?”
    “Because he wants in,” Norman said.
    “What are you talking about?” Judy said. “Who wants
in?”
    Teddy knew. He understood what was going on, though
he didn’t know why. He hadn’t quite figured that out yet, but he
felt like he was on the verge of uncovering the secret. It had
something to do with the children and the woman who looked
surprisingly like Judy.
    From the main room came a sound like a gunshot. The
lights flickered momentarily before plunging them into total
darkness. Judy screamed. Norman moaned in terror and the door
rattled in its frame as the wind continued to batter against the
outer wall of the building.
    Here and there emergency lights kicked on creating
pools of light, like islands of safety in the thick emptiness that
lay beyond their reach.
    Teddy, Cody and Judy moved to the hallway, which was
softly illuminated by the dim light coming through the window in
the back door. In the break room a single light offered some
illumination on the far wall.
    The lights came back on. From somewhere within the
depths of the building came the sound of a motor starting up, and
then it died as the lights blinked out once again.
    The three of them had reached the hallway, leaving
Norman alone in the break room. From the shadows behind him Norman
heard the sound of dragging footsteps.
    “Please,” he whispered. The steady buzz of the
emergency light on the opposite wall was the only response he
received.
    The lights flickered on and off for a brief second
and Norman saw Jimmy standing in the break room twenty feet away
from him. In the ensuing darkness he heard dragging footsteps as
the moan trapped in his throat erupted into a scream of terror as
he jumped to his feet and raced to the relative safety of the
hallway.
    He found Cody, Teddy and Judy at the far end of the
hallway. Cody held