A Winter Shadow

The winter wind but savagely at my skin and I regretted not grabbing the flannel lined coat that had my gloves in its pocket. My fingers were starting to ache and my jacket pockets were thin and didn't do much for the cold.. 

It was stupid that I was outside in the first place, because freshly fallen snow aside, I hated the cold. Going back wasn't an option though. Not yet.

I hunched my shoulders up around my neck, drew my thin jacket tighter around me and tucked my fingers into my armpits. 

"You're gonna catch your death Jackie-boy," I muttered, scowling at myself for it because it reminded me of my mother and the last thing I wanted to do was fight anger with depression. 

"Not today," I sighed, glaring at the puff of mist it made in the frigid air. I'd stormed out nearly half an hour earlier, and when I looked around at the path I'd been stomping down, I realized that I was further into those woods than I'd been in years. 

Admittedly, it was beautiful. The leaves had fallen from the oak and hickory trees months ago and the pine and cedar were thriving even under the weight of snow that had yet to slough off their boughs. It made the woods around my childhood home look like they belonged on a postcard. The snow was untouched even by the wildlife and the only thing that was missing was the stark red of a cardinal or two. I frowned when I thought about it. It wasn't just the cardinals. There were no birds at all, nothing moving in the trees.

My feet stilled at that realization and I stared hard out into the woods. There were no sounds except the soft rustle of wind through the trees. Where were the non-migratory birds, the deer, the squirrels, even the neighbor dogs from half a mile down the road? There were no footsteps crunching in the snow, no baying hounds in the distance, and not a single bird call. 

It was erie in the worst way now that I noticed. I wasn't ready to go back to the house just yet, but there was a part of me that wanted four walls and a locking door at that moment. There was a pit of dread opening in my belly that got deeper as the seconds ticked by. 

I chewed on my bottom lip, watching the silent wood like it would give me an answer if I looked long enough. I'd grown up in those woods and I knew of only three things that were worth being afraid of in them. Bears and copperheads were both in full hibernation by that time, and there would be sounds if it was poachers. I was too damn old to be afraid of the boogeyman.

Regardless, I couldn't bring myself to take another step. The alternative to standing there like an idiot, afraid to go any further into woods I'd known all my life, was to go back to a house where every one of my life choices was to be dissected and disputed, like I wasn't a grown-ass man I'm my thirties. So I stood there a while longer. 

The clouds began to darken and I don't know how long I stood there except that it was early evening by the time I was ready to make a decision. 'It might snow,' I thought, which would be a terrible turn of events.

"Jack!"

I jumped at the shrill cry that cut harshly through the silence around me. I turned, and my sister Jamie stood ten feet behind me. Was I so lost in my head that I didn't hear the crunch of her footsteps in the snow? She was pale and frantic, her blue eyes wide and her dark hair wild here it escaped from under her red knit hat. Unlike me she was dressed for the weather.

"What's wrong?" I asked because Jamie wasn't the type to scare easy, and a fight between Dad and I definitely wasn't likely to do it. They'd been edgy since I'd gotten in the evening before and I wondered if Dad was sick and they weren't sure how to tell me.

Her eyes darted from me to the woods around me, and as I watched she seemed to get paler. 

"Jack, come back to the house," she pleaded, taking a step back like that might convince me to follow her. I don't know why I looked at her feet just then, but when I did, I froze. There was nothing there. Oh, her feet were there, boots and all but beneath them there were no tracks. 

My mouth opened to speak, but I didn't have words yet as my mind puzzled through. I snapped it shut again and cocked my head to the side while I looked at the pristine snow, like the act would make things clearer rather than just cockeyed. 

The light was beginning to fade but I could still see the path clearly and the more I looked the more wrong it was. Not just her tracks, but mine as well. My boots were hard heeled riding boots that weren't suited for winter but made marks on just about everything if I wasn't careful. And while I'd buy that Jamie was light enough to leave minimal tracks, I was a big guy and not terribly graceful. I was always leaving evidence behind. 

"Jamie?" My voice was a note or two too high and I couldn't even be embarrassed about it. "Where are the tracks?"

"Jack, please come back to the house." She took another step back and glanced down at the tracks like they were the least of her concerns. When she looked me in the eye again, her expression promised answers but only if I went back with her. This time I followed. 

We hustled along in silence and I couldn't help but look back over my shoulder at the pristine path every minute or so until suddenly I saw footprints again. We were less than a hundred yards from the old farm house when I looked back and saw them. I stopped and turned to look at how they disappeared into woods that had never looked so ominous to me. 

"What just happened?" I demanded when she stepped up beside me. She was silent for so long that I wondered if she had any answers at all. 

"Roger's cattle started to disappear six months ago. We thought it was cattle thieves. Then Emma disappeared." I looked down at her and gave her a sceptical look. Roger Buckwell was an asshole of the highest order, and if his wife left him in the dead of night, I was sure he was responsible for it one way or another. "I know. The sheriff figured either he did it or she left him, but there were no bags packed, nothing missing and they investigated. Then it was Roger. We thought maybe he was on the run, but again, there was nothing missing. After that Mr. Larson disappeared. They said he got lost in the woods and must have crawled into a cave or something when it got cold, but they haven't found a damn thing. It's been two months. Then the Ames kid went missing."

"You told me about that."

"Yeah, Dad and I were part of the search party. For Mr. Larson too. They called in the FBI when the boy went missing, and they think maybe they're all connected because it's happening so close together, like someone's targeting people in Burkeville. But then things started happening here. We lost 12 chickens overnight a week ago. No sign of a struggle and no tracks. Sandy too."

"She was an old dog," I reasoned. "Maybe she found someplace to crawl into to die. Dogs do that."

"And the chickens? Eddie Ames, Mr. Larson, and the Buckwells and their cattle? That's not all, Jack!" she looked manic just then, eyes wild and mouth twisting between a sneer and a sob. "The woods have been weird. The footprint thing is new, but the wildlife has been pushing further into town and it seems like the birds have abandoned the woods. I haven't seen a squirrel out here in three weeks.And-and people have been talking about strange shadows, weird lights, that kind of thing. I wouldn't pay much attention to that because it sounds crazy. But these are level headed people, Jack." By the end of it, her voice went quiet, and her face drained into exhaustion. 

"And-and Dad? What's he got to say? In fact, if all this has been happening and Burkeville has somehow turned into the twilight zone, why am I just hearing about it? And why the hell has Dad been giving me the third degree about starting my design firm in St. Louis instead of closer to home?" I was practically spitting, the snow making my voice echo across the clearing and Jamie flinched back from it. I settled back and muttered "sorry."

"No, I get it. I just-I thought we were going crazy at first and I didn't really want to say anything over the phone. I was gonna tell you at Thanksgiving, but-"

"But I didn't show."

"Yeah, and with Dad-he's scared I think. We don't really know what's going on. People are leaving. Maybe us too, I don't know. Dad doesn't want to go because of Mom." We both looked over to the East side of the clearing where a small plot sat with a single granite marker standing under a small apple tree.

"Christmas?" I asked because I'd made it then, nearly three weeks ago.

"Didn't seem right," she said. "You were only here two days, and it was the first time you'd been back in over a year."

I took a deep breath, let it out in an explosive sigh and dropped an arm around her shoulders. "Yeah. Listen-I'll talk to dad." I don't know what made me say it, because the old man had never listened to me before. 

"Really?" 

I rolled my eyes at her skeptical eyebrow raise and nodded. "Don't expect much, but I'll at least try. Come on," I told her, tugging her shoulder so she'd follow as I began the final stretch back up towards the house.

"Thanks Jack. Just try not to start a fight this time, huh?" 

"Hey, I didn't start that last one. Or the one before."

"Oh really?"

"I'll admit I did start the one at Christmas. But that was just because Dad was getting ready to and I just wanted to beat him to the punch."

"Men," she growled in disgust, and I let out a laugh. This was good. We hadn't been like this in over a year. The pit in my gut was still there, but the further we got from the woods, the more it settled. We walked in comfortable silence all the way up to the back porch, and we both jumped when the back door slammed open. Dad stood there with one boot unlaced, coat halfway pulled on over sweats and a flannel undershirt. His thin gray hair was standing up like he's just gotten up from a nap and his face was pale with eyes wide. 

"Oh," he said as he took us both in, and his shoulders, which had been pulled up right around his ears, settled. "Good. Get your asses in here, both of you," he ordered. We followed him back in the house, my jaw locked right on the urge to tell him no just on principle. The pit was opening again, but this time I knew why. Something had happened while we were gone.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Jamie asked. 

Dad's chin jutted out as he pulled his coat and boots off. He was quiet as he hung the coat in the mudroom closet, and tucked his boots under the bench. He stood and looked at us both and said "Henderson just called me. Those FBI stooges are missing. Nobody's seen them since last night. Sheriff's had a little panic, been going around asking if anyone's seen anything, but it's the same as before. I'm assuming Jamie's brought you up to speed?"

I nodded when he gave me a pointed look. 

"Dad, we have to leave," Jamie said suddenly. "We can't just sit here and wait for it to be our turn!"

"I ain't leaving. You can, in fact you should," he said as he shuffled into the den. 

"Dad!"

"I hate to say it, but if FBI agents are going missing, just leaving town isn't gonna look good."

"That won't matter if we're all dead!" she snarled at me, following after Dad in a whirlwind of movement as she stripped off her hat and coat and gloves. 

I leaned in the doorway and listened as Dad sat down in his creaky old armchair and Jamie continued to plead with him. 

"Come stay with me," I said suddenly. They both turned to stare at me, and I found myself hunching inward like a self conscious schoolboy. "Just...it doesn't have to be forever. If they're sending in more Feds, maybe they'll figure out what the hells happening. It's-well, it's just an idea," I gritted out. 

"St. Louis?" Dad asked suspiciously. 

"St. Charles, actually." Which he'd know if he paid more attention, I thought irritably. 

"You know I hate the city," he growled, and I rolled my eyes. 

"You just can't navigate the city," I told him. Jamie stifled a little giggle, turning it into a cough when Dad glared at her too. 

"Fine, you want us to come crash your party? We will. I'll go get my damn bags packed. We'll leave in the morning," he snarled, pushing himself out of the chair with a grunt and shuffling off. 

"Grouchy old bastard."

"I'll admit, I didn't think you could actually get him to go," Jamie said, a little smile pulling at her lips. "Not the most conventional way to go about it."

"Conventional never would have worked."

"You know, he never would have agreed if you hadn't invited us to stay with you." 

I opened my mouth to respond, but there really wasn't anything to say to that. "I need to get my stuff together, and so do you," I said instead.

"I've already got bags packed," she said as she turned and headed into the kitchen. "I'll go make us dinner."

"Huh," I said to the empty den before pushing off the door frame and heading to my childhood bedroom. Not much was different. The walls we're still hunter green and tan, and the desk I'd spent hours at as a kid still sat in front of the window. The bed was bigger-Jamie's doing, hoping maybe I'd come home more and stay longer if the bed was comfortable. I didn't have much to pack, just a couple pairs of clothes, my toiletries and my laptop. The last sat on my desk, open from where I'd been working earlier. I moved to close it but something in the dark outside caught my eye. The light from my window and others on that side of the house spilled out across the snow and reflected out in the yard. Towards the back there was a shadow. It stood tall and thin in a way that no human could and had no distinguishing marks. The pit in my gut yawned wide open, and panic set my nerves on fire. I couldn't tear my eyes away from it, and a small part of me realized that the window faced out towards the woods. It was after one of us, and though I didn't know which of us for sure, it was an easy guess that I was it's target. I'd gone into the woods that day. It could've targeted Dad or Jamie any time before then, but the shadow hadn't appeared to them. It wanted me. I could feel it bone deep, pushing me to respond. I needed to go out there. Needed to face it. Would it come in the house? Would it take Jamie instead? Dad? I shook as I leaned forward and opened the window. The shadow didn't move. I pushed my computer aside and climbed slowly out the window, not taking my eyes off the shadow. My feet made no sound in the snow when they landed, and my shaking free more pronounced in the cold. "What do you want?" I whispered, because there was a definite feeling of want in the air. It was silent and I moved out to approach it. 

There was a voice in my head screaming at me to stop, but I kept my feet moving. I needed to go to it. If it took me, I was sure it would leave Dad and Jamie alone. They could go to St. Louis without me. 

The shadow moved then, when I was nearly on it, shortening to my height, forming a head like shape, and shoulders that seemed to match mine and I wondered if it was mimicking me. It cocked its head to the side and made a sound like a whisper. 

"I don't know what you're trying to say," I told it. It tilted its head the other way.

"To say," it whispered in a garbled voice. 

"Jesus…"

"Christ."

I opened my mouth to say something else. I wasn't sure what beyond some terrified expletives, but before I could the shadow suddenly expanded to envelop me. Inky blackness surrounded me and the dread I'd felt before multiplied. 

"Holy fuck!" I shouted, or tried to. No sound came when I spoke, but like an echo that terrible voice growled back at me, "Holy fuck!" into the darkness.