Out of the Shadows (19 page)

He felt that remaining still would be the best way to preserve his own life, but then Jessica would get away, and she would succeed with whatever diabolic scheme she had concocted.

He moved his arm.

The ice cracked in warning.

He slowly eased his leg over.

The frost beneath him groaned.

He pulled his body a few feet.

A small stream of water seeped through a tiny splinter in the ice.

Excruciating minutes passed as he carefully eased himself across the surface, too afraid to stand. Knowing that he was breathing on borrowed time, he reached his hand out to pull himself a little bit farther, and it landed on solid ground.

He had done it. He made it across the frozen pond and quickly stood, running toward the street ahead. His gun in his hands, he continued along the trail of Jessica’s blood, now traveling north on Chestnut Street.

And then the trail stopped.

He looked around frantically, and when he found the tire tracks and the frozen chunks of a person crumbled at the side of the road, he knew that she had stolen a car. And now he would never catch her.

“Get in!” yelled the familiar female voice as a police cruiser slid to a stop next to him, Christine in the driver’s seat.

Jonathan ran around to the passenger’s side, jumping in and locking his seatbelt into place as she sped down the road in pursuit of Jessica. They drove north up the road, trying to discern her tracks, but it was more difficult than it appeared.

“Where’s she goin’?” Jonathan wondered.

“She’s looking for a magical place to make her own personal nightmare snow globe.”

“Are you serious?”

She nodded.

“That’s
wicked
crazy!”

“She has to be headed to downtown Camden.”

They continued down the road, driving far too quickly, but they both knew the risk was necessary. Neither of them spoke, because they were trying to remain focused on the job, but Christine had one small request.

“Colt,”

He looked at her.

“I’d rather be dead than a frozen freak in her winter wax museum.”

“Definitely.”

“I’m being serious,” she glanced at him, making sure he saw her eyes. “If it comes down to it, you better put a bullet in my brain.”

This was never a conversation they had had to have before, and he felt uneasy, but he knew that it was his duty to comply. He nodded, wondering if he really felt the same.

“There it is,” she said, looking down the street.

Downtown Camden was coming into view, a few buildings illuminating the night. Ahead, they would turn onto Main Street, a view of Penobscot Bay and the Camden Harbor just to the east.

A car came barreling out from the church parking lot to their left, colliding forcefully into the side of the police cruiser, sending it sliding off the road. When Jonathan and Christine recovered from the violent accident, they saw the offender – Jessica – peel off down the road toward downtown.

Having no time to assess the damage, Christine drove back onto the road and pursued, her adrenaline pumping viciously through her veins now, her hands shaking. Jessica had foolishly closed the distance between them by waiting in the parking lot for her surprise attack, and Christine didn’t intend to allow her to escape again.

They passed the post office and a restaurant on their right, following Jessica’s hard turn toward Main Street, the heart of downtown. Jonathan opened the passenger’s window and leaned out, firing his gun at the car ahead. One shot, two, three! He fired again and again, denting the car, shattering the back windshield but still not slowing her down.

They entered the massive five-way intersection that gave passage to many shops, restaurants, and the harbor. Jonathan was ready to end this awful day, so he aimed one final shot at the car in front of them and fired, blowing out one of the back tires.

Her car wobbled back and forth, and then it suddenly spun around in a full circle, finding no traction on the icy road with which to stop. Christine had no time to react, and despite trying to swerve around the car, they collided, tipping Jessica’s car up onto its side and sending the police cruiser into a vicious roll. They toppled around repeatedly before the car landed on its hood and skidded down the road, metal crying out in agony, echoing through the night and screeching to a halt.

Christine felt the blood rushing to her head, hanging upside in the cruiser. She dabbed at the side of her face and felt the sticky warmth of blood. She coughed, “You ok, Colt?” She turned to help him, but he wasn’t in the car. “Colt?!” she yelled a little louder now as she struggled to free herself from her seatbelt. “Colt!” She finally released the locking mechanism within her safety belt and awkwardly fell to the ground, crawling out from her broken window.

As she stood, she felt the world spin, and she took a few deep breaths to stabilize herself. “Colt!” she called out again. And then she saw him, fifty feet away, lying in a mound of snow off to the side of the road.

She took one step and howled in anguish, falling back to the ground. Examining her leg revealed that she had a broken bone, the end of which was poking through the side of her calf. She felt nauseous from the pain and the gas fumes filling the air around them. “Colt!” she yelled for him, desperately trying to get his attention while holding back the urge to vomit.

Jonathan stirred awake, slowly sitting up and looking around, his hand placed on the side of his head. He felt around on his body, making sure everything was where it was supposed to be, and then he noticed his empty holster. He looked around, digging through the snow but coming up with empty hands.

“Colt!” Christine shouted. “My leg is broken!”

“I can’t find my gun!” was his answer.

She began looking around as best she could without moving, but her search wasn’t successful.

A deep cough from the other car startled them. On its side, the driver’s door opened toward the sky, and Jessica pulled herself from within, falling off and landing with a horrendous cry of pain as she grasped her shoulder’s bullet wound. Biting her bottom lip, she forced herself to stand, wobbling to and fro but finally coming to rest on both feet.

Jonathan spun around to face her, wishing he had a weapon of some kind with which to defend himself.

“Just leave me alone!” she screamed at them, tears filling her eyes.

“Jessica, it’s over. Just stop this,” he tried to reason with her.

Christine chimed in. “Please! You know that I understand what you’re—.”

“You don’t understand!”
she hollered, shredding her voice. She grasped her throat with one hand, wishing she had not screamed. “If you understood, you would be standing at my side right now!”

“Jessica,” Jonathan made another attempt at calming her down. “We can help you.”

While he served as a distraction, Christine searched frantically for a nearby weapon. Her heartbeat raced, feeling like they couldn’t catch a single break. Just when she thought she might have to make do with throwing snowballs at the crazed woman, she spotted it.

About twenty feet away from her, half-buried in the snow, was Jonathan’s gun!

“You can’t help me,” Jessica spat back at Jonathan, disgusted that he would say something so ridiculous. “I don’t need help! I’m right where I belong!”

Christine slowly dragged herself toward the gun, cringing from excruciating agony as Jessica raised both arms into the air beside her, looking toward the sky.

The ground beneath them began to rumble, and deafening cracks assaulted their ears. The crazed woman smiled as her skin went pale, and the air around her wisped in ivory plumes. “If you come near me, you’re dead!”

Jonathan was deciding whether to call her bluff as Christine continued crawling, ever closer to the gun.

The cops watched as walls of ice crystals rose up from the ground, snaking their way across the surfaces of the surrounding buildings, as if it were a form of sparkling, supernatural ivy. The buildings glittered brightly as Jonathan noticed a dome rising up around them one hundred feet in the air. For a brief moment, the new crystalline beauty of downtown Camden took his breath away, but as the thick icy dome continued to form over their heads, he knew something had to be done.

He charged at Jessica.

After taking no more than three steps, she thrust her hand toward him, and he was blasted backward by a vicious gust of bitter wind. Struggling to rise to his feet, he tried to step forward, but he couldn’t move.

The frozen crystals from the ground had begun to snake around one of his feet.

“Brody!” he called out to her, filled with terrified panic as he felt the frigid ice permeate his skin and invade his body. He suffered a horrific stinging sensation as his foot died, completely giving way to its new icy form. Like a swarm of insects, the frost continued to crawl up his leg, devouring his calf down to the bone. It seeped through his skin and along his muscles, leaving nothing alive in its wake.
“Brody!”

She finally snatched the gun from the ground and pointed it at Jessica, but then she halted when she saw the ice overtaking her partner. She permitted only a moment of irrational panic, and then she pushed it away, allowing herself to be filled with logical calmness, understanding what must be done.

“Brody…” he pleaded, less panicked now, knowing what she was thinking. In the stillness that enveloped them, their eyes locked, and a thousand silent words passed between them, a love story of friendship stronger than many would ever come to understand in their lives. She knew he was sorry for the things he’d said to her today. He knew that she regretted running off on her own. She knew that he would want her to look after Leslie. He knew that she would do a better job of it than he ever could.

And they both knew how much they cared for one another.

Jonathan slowly nodded to her; she nodded back. Her hands steady now, she pointed the gun at him, and she fired.

The shot echoed off the growing icy dome overhead, startling Jessica out of her focused channel of power.

Jonathan fell backward into the snow, his eyes wide, staring above at the glittering crystals surrounding them. He was at peace, calmly waiting to die. His breathing was relaxed, and he felt no pain. Christine still aimed the gun at him, the barrel smoking in the frigid air, but after a moment, his brow furrowed, as he was unable to figure out where he’d been shot. He sat up, checking his body for wounds.

And then he saw it. He looked down to find that his leg was gone below the knee. She had shot and shattered the icy stump.

Christine looked at Jessica with sadness in her eyes. “I’m sorry that things turned out this way.”

“What are you talking about?” she asked.

Christine understood the woman, whether Jessica was willing to see it or not. “You really are something special,” she said. And she meant it.

Jessica’s lip quivered, and a crystal tear ran down her face.

Christine fired the gun at the car behind Jessica, forcing the fuel tank to ignite. The vehicle exploded, engulfing the ice queen with searing fire that illuminated the night sky of Camden.

The two cops stared at the molten blaze, reveling in the heat that they hadn’t felt all day. Christine collapsed into a snowdrift and sighed, exhaustion overtaking her.

They both relished the relaxing silence, feeling relief that everything was finally over.

A horrid scream pierced the night, forcing Jonathan and Christine to sit up, sending tingles of unease down their spines.

“What was that?!” he asked.

Emerging from within the fire, Jessica lumbered toward them, completely sheathed in thick ice. It was as if there was nothing human remaining within her at all. The frozen beast meant to kill.

With a chilling screech, the monster charged. Christine aimed the gun one last time and fired.

Jessica’s body shattered into hundreds of crystal chunks, clattering to the ground in a gigantic, icy mess. The two partners watched as the fire slowly melted the remains of the girl who just wanted to be understood.

Jonathan crawled over to his partner and collapsed on her shoulder, letting out a giant sigh. Silence passed between the two of them for a long moment before he finally said, “You shot off my leg.”

“It was either your leg or your head. I think your wife will agree with my choice.”

“Probably right.”

Their eyes rested on the blazing fire, confident now that Jessica was gone.

“Ya know,” he began. “That last time you pointed the gun at her, I was really hopin’ you would a’ said somethin’ witty before ya fired. Like,
‘chill out!’”

She rolled her eyes. “That was terrible.”

“I suppose tellin’ her to freeze would a’ been pointless, too.”

She sighed and said, “Is this going to be your thing now?”

He put on an expression of faux offense. “No need to get frosty!”

She closed her eyes and shook her head, gritting her teeth as she carefully attempted to reposition her fractured limb.