Year's End: 14 Tales of Holiday Horror by J. Alan Hartman Page A

“Jack. Get my phone and call the police. Tell them we’re on Ivy Street, and someone just fired a gun.”
    He did, sweaty fingers slipping on the numbers. Wobbles barked in the backseat. After a few moments, he said, “It’s busy.”
    “How can it be busy? It’s 9-1-1, for heaven’s sake.”
    “It’s just busy, Mom.” She heard him dialing again.
    “Who are you calling?”
    Dimly, through the phone, she heard Seth, party sounds in the background. Of course. “Hi, what is it?”
    “Dad?” Jack’s composure was failing, and he sounded younger by the minute. “Dad, can we come to your house?”
    Emotion came into Seth’s voice for once. “Jack, what’s going on? Sure, you can, but what’s happening? Where’s your mom?”
    “She’s here. There was something in the house and the power’s out and the radio’s out and there was a man with a gun—”
    “Slow down, Jack. Who had a gun? Can I talk to your mom?”
    Lynn held out her hand for the phone, but Jack clung to it, near tears. “Please Dad…”
    “Hang on just a second, son—Deidre? What was that?”
    Jack held the phone away from his ear, staring in disbelief. The sounds that emanated from the phone dissolved into screaming chaos. He looked at her helplessly. “We need to help Dad!”
    Lynn shook her head. “We can’t, Jack.”
    “But we have to.”
    “With what?” Her voice sounded strange in her own ears. Two years ago she’d have given anything for Seth. But now, everything was Jack. “I’m sorry,” she added, wiping tears with the back of her hand. “I know you want to help him, honey. I do too. But whatever this is…we just can’t.” She silenced the phone. Jack sobbed beside her, and Wobbles licked his face. He pulled the dog against his chest.
    She struggled to gain composure. There would be time to cry later. Now she had to move. Maybe it was only the city that was experiencing this. The next big city was two hours south. She had enough gas. Turning off the radio, she drove out of the neighborhood to the highway. There was a fair amount of traffic in both directions, but nothing unusual. What was unusual were the massive dark pockets in the city, and one by one, sections of the city went dark. Jack didn’t look up.
    The sky was full of stars. She hadn’t realized how many until all the lights were gone. They shimmered sanely in the cold air. Lynn took a couple of deep breaths. “I think we’ll be okay.”
    Jack’s tears eased, but his voice shook. “Do you think it got Dad?”
    “I don’t know, honey.”
    “Or Deirdre?”
    “Don’t know.”
    “What about my friends?”
    Lynn felt her voice wobble again. “I don’t know.”
    Jack glanced at the phone. “Should we try and call anybody else?”
    She considered that. Probably, but if no one answered, what would they do then? Then again, maybe they could warn them. “Sure. Can you dial for me? I’ll talk. Just start at the top.”
    They called three people, none of whom answered, before the signal was lost and the phone blinked off. Jack held the phone in both hands as though willing it back to life. It grew closer to midnight as they drove, and there were fewer cars now. She followed the taillights of the truck in front of her, lulled by the steady hum of tires.
    The truck ahead of her swerved violently to the side, going over the embankment and disappearing into the grass. Lynn slammed on the brakes, but she wasn’t fast enough. She ran over something that caused the car to bounce and skid to a stop; there was a loud pop and the car sank to one side. Jack managed to hold onto Wobbles, but the dog’s head thunked against the dash. He whimpered and shook.
    “Mom?”
    “Shh.” Lynn lifted herself out of her seat a bit, looking around. In the rearview mirror, she saw the pointed ends of broken pavement sticking up, as though something had tunneled underneath. The tunnel continued all the way across the road. The crack heaved as though it was breathing. Lynn