Read Ultimate Supernatural Horror Box Set Online

Authors: F. Paul Wilson,Blake Crouch,J. A. Konrath,Jeff Strand,Scott Nicholson,Iain Rob Wright,Jordan Crouch,Jack Kilborn

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Ghosts, #Occult, #Stephen King, #J.A. Konrath, #Blake Crouch, #Horror, #Joe Hill, #paranormal, #supernatural, #adventure

Ultimate Supernatural Horror Box Set (167 page)

“Some cruise.”  Old Graham piped up from his space by the fire, but quickly turned his gaze to the floor when he was met by Damien’s warning stare.

Harry wasn’t sure if he wanted Lucas to shut up or carry on.  It was enjoyable to see the drug-dealing weasel so uncomfortable, but Harry didn’t know himself what had happened to the boy’s father; he was unsure if it was a conversation the group of them should be having.  Lucas seemed to have a tendency of asking too many personal questions. 

Lucas stood up unexpectedly.  “A vacation, you say?  Well, I hope he returns soon.  Anyone for a beer?”

 
Talk about taking it to the brink,
Harry thought, relieved that the conversation had altered course just as it had neared an emotional minefield.  It left Harry wondering what exactly had happened to make Damien so defensive about his father.  He had a feeling Old Graham knew, but when Harry glanced over at the old man, the pensioner looked away.

Yeah, he knows alright.

Harry’s thinking was interrupted by Steph’s voice coming from behind the bar.  She and Lucas she had moved away from the fireplace and entered into the flickering light of the bar’s candles. There was a phlegmy sound of concern in Steph’s voice as she spoke: “I think we have a problem, guys.”

“What?”  They all asked in unison.

Steph walked back over to the group and re-entered the light of the fireplace.  She had a bottle of beer in her right hand, the top already removed.  She turned it upside down.

Nothing happened.

“Jesus, no!” Old Graham cried, throwing his hands up at the sky as he realised what he was seeing.  “The bloody beer’s frozen.”

Harry eye’s widened.

Is it really that cold?

 

Chapter Nine

 

“Dude, what are you doing?”

Ben glanced over his shoulder – pointless as he couldn’t see Jerry in the dark anyway – and replied, “What you
think
I’m doing?  I’m opening the door.”

“No way!  It’s
Night of the Living Dead
out there.  If someone starts hammering the door, trying to get in – you lock it, tight!  Then you board it up with planks and nails.”

Ben didn’t have time for this.  He let out a long sigh.  “George Romero doesn’t direct your life, Jerry.  He made a couple of decent movie’s thirty years ago.  Get over it.  Besides, do you have any planks and nails, because I don’t!  Movies aren’t real!”  He heard Jerry wince in the dark – if a wince could in fact produce a sound – and smiled.  It was as though his comment had managed to manifest physically and punch his friend on the nose.

The banging continued on the door and a slinking silhouette flittered against the pure white backdrop of the snow outside.  Ben reached out for the door handle when something occurred to him.  He paused.  “Hey, who’s there?  Stop your banging, okay?”

Sure enough the banging stopped at his command.

“I said who’s there?”

From behind Ben, Jerry said nervously, “Dude, I swear to God if you let the Lost Boys in here to eat us, I’ll never forgive you.  Just remember if it’s a vampire, don’t invite them in.”

Ben shook his head again, certain that his friend had smoked one of his ‘funny fags’ at some point during the last few hours.  It was the only explanation for him being so annoying. 

“My name’s Jess,” said the person outside.  “I work at the supermarket down the path.  Please let me in. 
Please
.”

Jerry leapt up and punched the air.  “Dude!  That’s the girl I was just talking about.  The fittie!  I swear it must be fate.”

Ben grinned.  “Pity we can’t let her in; just in case she’s a zombie or a vampire?”

“Dude, stop fooling.  Let her in!”

Ben couldn’t help but laugh as he turned to the door.  The girl’s silhouette continued to dance frantically against the snow outside.  Ben wondered what on earth had gotten her so worked up. 

“Jess,” he said through the glass, “you still there?”

“Yes, let me in.”  She sounded frightened.

“The thing is, Jess.  The door isn’t locked.”

There was silence, followed by: “Huh?”

“The door isn’t locked – but it opens
outwards
.  You need to pull it towards yourself instead of banging on it.”

After a further moment of silence, the door started to open and cold air flowed in through the slowly widening gap.  Illuminated by the crisp moonlight reflecting off the snow, a delicately-featured face appeared in the doorway.  It looked embarrassed. 

 

###

 

 It took almost fifteen minutes for Ben to calm Jess down sufficiently that she managed to introduce herself.  Once Ben had let her in and locked the door (she’d insisted on it), the girl had started to catch her breath.  The three of them now stood by the entranceway where they could just about make each other out under the moon’s shimmering glow and the green pulse of the fire exit sign.

“You’re lucky,” Ben said, patting her on the back.  Her entire body was trembling.  Whether it was just the cold, or something else, Ben couldn’t tell.  “We were just thinking about getting out of here,” he explained.  “You just caught us in time.”

The girl glanced over her shoulder at the door behind her, as though she expected something might burst through at any moment.  The wind was picking up outside and flakes of snow were whirling up and settling against the glass.

Ben raised an eyebrow.  “What exactly happened to you out there?” 

“Yeah,” Jerry added.  “Something give you the heebie jeebies, or what?”

Jess giggled, but it was a nervous sound.  “I guess you could say something like that, but I’m probably just being silly.  Least I hope so.”

“You got us a bit freaked out too,” Ben said.  “Banging on the door like that!”

“Sorry.  I was just in a panic.”

“Why though?”  Ben wanted to get to the point quickly, disconcertingly aware of the fact that they would all have to get out of there soon.  It was getting far too cold to hang around any longer.

 ”Well, I left the supermarket to see if anybody knew why the power had gone off,” Jess told them, “and also to get away from my cow of a manager.  She drives me insane, but I just act really happy around her because I know it makes her mad.  I call her
Kathleen
and
it drives her
craaaaaazeee!  With a capital zee.” 

Ben got the girl back on track.  “Then what happened?”

“Oh right, well, it’s the weirdest thing.  I got lost!”

Ben and Jerry spoke in unison:  “Lost?”

“Yeah, literally like ten steps out of the doorway.  I couldn’t find my way back at all.  Every time I changed direction it felt like I was going round in circles.  I couldn’t see
anything
other than snow all around me.  That’s when I started to get, you know, a bit scared, so I got my phone out to call someone at the supermarket to come and get me.  But my phone was all messed up.  I totally freaked and started calling out for help.  That’s when I saw it…”

Ben swallowed.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear what it was the girl saw – especially the bit about how her phone was all messed up the same as his and Jerry’s.  The last thing Ben needed was to be freaked right now, but he asked the question anyway.  It felt like he needed to.  “What did you see?”

Jess shook her head and shrugged, her bleached-blonde hair glinting in the white light coming in from outside.  “I…I really don’t know, but it had a face, you know?  It was a man, I guess.  A tall man.”

“Like
Phantasm?
  Dude!”  Jerry left it at that.  Sometimes
Dude
said it all. 

Ben wasn’t quite so impressed, though.  “A face?  You just bumped into someone in the dark!  No big deal.”

Jess nodded.  “Maybe – except for the only thing I could make out on this person’s face were his eyes: big, glowy white ones inside of a hood.”

“A hood?”  Another one of Jerry’s fantasies took a hold of him.  “What kind of hood?  Jedi or Sith?  Or one like the guy in
Assassin’s Creed
?”

Jess shook her head, a blank expression on her face.  “I don’t know what any of that means, but it was like a priest’s robe or something.  I didn’t see anything else – just the face – and I ran.  Then I ended up at your door.  Thank God!”

Jerry put an arm around the girl’s waist and squeezed tightly.  “Amen to that!”

Ben’s common sense was telling him to dismiss the girl’s story as paranoid nonsense, but part of him couldn’t help but wonder…

Was something out there in the snow?

 

Chapter Ten

 

Damien had separated himself from the group and was now standing by the window in his bulbous puffer jacket, staring intently at the world outside.  Harry and the other drinkers had remained around the sofa, a row of beers at their feet thawing in front of the fire.  A couple were cracked due to the change in temperature, but several more seemed to be returning to their more natural state of crisp, bubbling liquid.

Damien stared out into the night.

What is with this weather?  It came out of nowhere…
 

Damien had never known anything like it.  The air was cold enough to freeze a person’s eyelashes – not to mention the beer – and if he was honest (which he
never
was if he could help it) he was worried.  If the power didn’t come back on soon, would it continue to get even colder?  Would he freeze to death?  It seemed absurd in this day and age, but he wasn’t so certain anymore.  The ghost-white blanket swirling outside the window made him even less sure. The whole world was freezing. 

How did I get stuck in this dump on a night like tonight?  The one Tuesday where I have serious business to attend to and this happens – and that screwup Jimmy hasn’t even turned up.  I should be sitting in my Jacuzzi right now – some bitch waiting on the bed to gobble my knob – but no, I’m stuck here with a bunch of deadbeats.  Steph isn’t so bad – in fact I wouldn’t mind giving her one – but the others deserve a good old-fashioned beat down.  Especially that waster, Harry. Thinks he’s better than me when really he’s the biggest degenerate here.

Damien craned his neck towards the group by the fire.  Harry was sitting on the sofa alone, whilst the others milled about nearby. 

Everyone probably moved away because of the stink of booze and vomit.  Who the hell does that guy think he is? 

Damien had noticed plenty of times how Harry turned his nose up whenever him and his mates were in the pub

Damien would have done something about it before now but the guy wasn’t worth the effort.  Besides, despite his superior attitude, Harry pretty much kept to himself, and it was a bad move to pick fights with people that kept to themselves.  It put you on the radar, and that was the last thing he needed right now

Still, the geezer best wind his neck in because I’ll put him down if he gets in my face again.  That thick Mick will get his too if he’s not careful.  Sick of people treating me like a worthless thug, thinking they know all about me, but they don’t know sod-all.

For some reason, when Damien thought about Lucas it produced butterflies in his stomach and he wasn’t sure why.  Certainly wasn’t because he was scared of the man (or any man for that matter), but for some reason Lucas made Damien feel uneasy.  Especially after the guy had damn-near bust his hand.

Damien shuddered as a cold breeze made it inside his collar. 
Time to get back in front of that fire, I think; freezing my bloody nutsack off!

He turned away from the window and saw Lucas staring at him from across the room. 

Speak of the Devil!

Damien wrinkled his brow at the man, who had now begun smiling as well as simply staring

Damien shrugged his shoulders and raised his eyebrows.  Body language for:
What you looking at?

Lucas nodded at him and held up a bottle of beer.

Right!
Damien thought, relieved, without knowing exactly what he had to be
relieved
about.
  He’s just letting me know that the beer has thawed out. 

Despite relaxing a little, the butterflies in Damien’s stomach were still acting up.  In fact they were multiplying. 

 

###

 

Harry watched while Damien took a lightly-frosted beer from Lucas and wondered if he saw nervousness in the lad’s eyes.  The lad had started to seem less sure of himself as the night had gone on, as though some well-kept veneer of toughness had slowly started to show cracks.  Harry took a swig of his own beer and cringed as the icy liquid passed over his teeth, making them ache a little. 
Think I would actually prefer a steaming mug of coffee about now.
 

Lucas exited a conversation he’d been having with Steph and then headed off towards the toilets.  Suddenly alone, Steph took up a seat beside Harry on the sofa.  He could feel the warmth of her thigh against his as she settled into the cushions.

“You got anywhere you’re supposed to be tonight, Harry?” she asked him.

He laughed.  “You know me!  When do I ever have any place to be other than here?”

“True,” she said.  “But I don’t know why it is that you come here every night.  It can’t just be the alcohol?  You could drink at home and pass out on your own floor if you wanted to.”

Harry laughed again.  “Yeah, but you wouldn’t be there to pick me up afterwards.”

Steph shook her head at him as though she didn’t accept his answer.  “I’m serious!  Why do you come here?”

“I don’t know.  I guess it’s because misery loves company.  I think I come here to be among the living dead.”

Steph raised one of her neatly-kept eyebrow.  “I don’t follow.”

“How can I explain it?  On the weekends you get the kids in having fun, but during the weekdays you have guys like Nigel who sit at the end of the bar without saying a word all night, or guys like Old Graham who live in the past because they don’t know where they fit in during the present.  They come to be around others that have ceased living in the here and now, people who instead live inside their own heads and exist on memories alone.”  Harry took a swig of his beer and then looked Steph in the eyes.  They looked to him like glistening pearls and, for a few seconds, he stopped speaking, just staring into them.  Frightened that the pause might become awkward, Harry carried on with what he was saying.  “I come here because it reminds me that there are other people that have nothing left in their lives except regret.  If I stayed at home I’d lose sight of the fact that I’m not alone in misery – that I’m not the world’s unluckiest man.  Sometimes it’s the only thing that keeps me going.  Doesn’t matter how much I hate my life, I’m not unique and my pain isn’t special.  I’m never alone because I’m part of a club.  The Living Dead Club.”

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