You can say what you like. It was another hound. It was just our imagination. But Jack and I both swear. It was Psycho. You could see it in his eyes. The same piggy squint that had scolded his hatred at me in high school. That held nothing but contempt for life. And now that hatred and contempt were unleashed at last.

The beast slammed its rubbery body into the side of the snow-cat as it made its way to the rear of the vehicle. Jack jammed the stick into park, then picked up her gun.

"Come on, we can’t go until we take care of this."

I had my gun out, as we both scrambled to the rear of the cat. Firing through bars can be dangerous if you hit a strut and the slug goes ricocheting around the cab. Psycho knew this. He’d shot through these same bars himself. The hound dodged back and forth, making a difficult target.

Jack cracked off a shot. It must have hit because we heard a squeal. This was followed by another bashing attack on the snow-cat.

He was playing it smart, I thought. If he wrecked the cat, he ruined our escape. Nobody was walking out of Westie territory. Nobody was walking over that bridge. We had to stop him – and now!

"Jack, this isn’t going to work. He knows our weaknesses too well. I’m going outside."

"No, Teacher. That’s exactly what he wants."

"I’ve killed hounds before."

"Yes, but this is different. That’s Psycho out there. He won’t fall for any of the usual tricks."

"Then, let’s use some new ones. I’ll step out. If he attacks I’ll jump back in. You go to that window there. Plug him as many times as you can."

"It might work once. Okay."

I opened the door of the cat, stepped down slowly, making sure Pyscho had lots of time to see me. I had my pistol ready. I’d jump back in as soon as he came at me.

Only it didn’t work that way. Psycho was two steps ahead of me. I scanned left, right, ahead. Not behind. Then I knew I was in trouble. I spun in time to see the snow falling off the roof of the cat. Psycho was coming over the top!

I dove in. Jack opened up, hitting the hound several times in the face. But I wasn’t fast enough. Psycho raked his teeth down my leg as I scrambled to safety.

"Fuck!" I screamed. My pant leg was covered in blood and orange pus. Jack washed it with some quickly grabbed snow. The bite was minor but the skin puffed up and burned like hell.

"Where did he go?" Jack asked, after tending my leg.

"I don’t know. Let’s get out of here."

Jack jumped to the driver’s seat but we didn’t go anywhere. "Look!"

Behind the cat sat the hound. It lie on one side. It was dying.

"It’s a trick," I said, poking my gun barrel through the bars. A shot ripped into the hound’s rump but it would not get up. "Run it over with the cat."

"No. The treads are half broken already. If they go, we walk home. Besides, I don’t think this is a trick. Psycho isn’t going to just lie there and be shot."

"As soon as we step out there, he’ll be all over us."

"Watch." Jack took aim, shot three perfect hits into the creature’s head. It stood up and then fell down. Dead.

"I still say it’s a trap."

"Trap or not, we’ve got to move that fucker if we’re going to back out of here."

"You stay. I’ll go. No point in both of us going," I said.

"It’s big. You’ll need me to help move it."

I couldn’t argue with the lady’s logic. We were stuck unless we both went out and dragged the carcass out of the way. I made up my mind when I heard Westies shooting down the street. We had to hurry if we were going to get away.

"C’mon then. Let’s get this over with."

"Hold on a second." Jack went to the rear of the cat, found a screwdriver in a side panel. With this see began to detach a metal box under a seat at the rear. Inside was a treasure trove of survival goodies, including sawed off shotgun. "I don’t like to use this unless I absolutely have to."

She thrust the gun at me and a box of shells.

"Thanks but –"

"No, you take it. But I’m holding you to your promise," Jack said, giving me a stern eye. "You come with me. No more difficulties."

"I like the sound of that. ‘No more difficulties.’"

Enough said, we stepped out of the cat slowly. I went first, shotgun ready. The pistol I tucked deep inside my coat. It was too easy to lose things in this snow.

The hound had stopped moving. Snow covered its ugly face except were the blood of Jack’s three shots had melted it. Something wasn’t right. I moved closer. I looked at the face. It wasn’t Psycho. It was some other –

He launched himself out of the snow. The trap was perfect. I raised the scattergun, firing into the hound’s belly. Still Psycho landed on me with his full weight.

I couldn’t do anything. Normally I would have used my knife and cut up into the head. But Psycho had killed enough hounds to know his own weaknesses. Instead he pressed down, suffocating me.

I squirmed and kicked but the darkness came all the same…

*

I was dreaming again…

*

The hound rose suddenly for some reason. I sucked in air like a bee does nectar. My eyes swam with black spots. My ears stopped pounding with the sound of my own heart and I could now pick up Jack’s pistol firing point-blank into Psycho’s head.

I rolled. I could have gone for my knife or the gun, but I didn’t want to lose my only chance to breath. Jack kept firing. I was able to roll completely free.

The hound was at Jack now. Psycho must have figured I was done. I found the shotgun lying in the snow. I chambered a new shell and fired at Psycho’s ribs.

The double assault did it. The devil dog, perhaps more hound than man after all, fled into the storm. I covered Jack’s retreat as she made for the snow-cat. After I was in and the door closed, Jack started the engine. She floored it in reverse at last, turning and speeding away down the street all in one fluid motion.

We saw Westies then. One shot a rifle at us but the bullet buzzed off the right hand tread. We didn’t bother firing back. After a block or so I pointed down a street. "That way."

"Forget it. Straight to the bridge. We’ve got Westies everywhere. And that hound ain’t dead either."

"We had a deal, Jack. There’s a little girl—"

"Bullshit. It’s a weapons cache or some other trick."

"What’s it going to take, Jack?"

She didn’t answer, just stared out the windshield.

I thought over my opinions. Should I try the gun and force her? It would be a deal breaker. I decided on another tactic. Information. If she was one of Mr. Hart’s mysterious kids then Jack might know something.

"Her name is Cynthia. She’s an Asian girl. She said her teacher was named Betty. She—"

Jack hit the brakes. "What was that?"

"She said her teacher’s name was Betty."

"Christ! Which way?"

"Left. I left her in an old daycare. At the end of this street."

The snow-cat turned and we were soon standing outside the daycare. Jack had her gun in my back. "No tricks, Teacher."

"No tricks."

I went to the door, called, "Cynthia! I’m back!" We waited for a second. "Cynthia!’

"Go in," Jack said nudging me with her pistol. "Slowly."

I walked as slow as I could stand. Seconds later we were looking at something that made my guts boil. Cynthia was gone. Her little wool hat sat on the floor in a ring of pillows. A trail of over-turned chairs and dropped books showed the direction in which she had been dragged away. There was no blood stains. She had probably left alive.

Jack called me over to another mess on the floor. A tub of blue finger paint had been smeared over the linoleum. A set of odd tracks were clear in the pigment. Jack and I both got closer for a second look.

"It’s not a hound. Too small."

"And it’s bipedal."

"Bat?"

"No way," I said. "Their nails are too long. I should know."

Jack gave a me a weird look.

"I’ll explain later."

"I’m pretty sure that thing in the swimming pool had flippers."

"This is something new."

"’Fraid so. And it’s got Cynthia."

"Not it – they. Look another set of toe marks, but they couldn’t possibly be part of this creature." Jack followed the direction of the prints. The back door.

"I think you’re right."

We looked around some more. No blood stains in any other room. Each new room made my heart rise in my throat. Would this be the one where I’d find Cynthia’s dead body? But now we were sure, whatever these creatures were they hadn’t eaten her but carried her away.

We checked the back door. It stood shut just as I had left it. But the blue paint tracks lead to the closed portal.

"They’re intelligent," said Jack, her eyes wide as she looked at me. "They can open and close doors. Hounds and bats can’t do that."

I offered her a theory that came to my mind then. "I’ve been thinking over the hounds and the bats. We know now that the bats change humans into hounds. But what if the hounds become bats. And the bats become…"

"That’s quite a jump. If that’s the case, then why haven’t we seen these fuckers before?"

"Only two possibilities : one, we didn’t see them because they were hidden, or two, we didn’t see them because they weren’t here yet. They are new arrivals either way."

"But from where?"

"Fuck if I know." This was a lie. Deep inside my mind I remembered another place where strange creatures had emerged from a spinning wheel in the air… "What do we do now?"

"We could try and follow it, them, whatever, but the blizzard outside means no tracks. What’s the point?"

"Cynthia is the point."

"I’m sorry, Teacher, but this is bigger than one little girl. Mr. Hart needs to know about this right now."

"Yes, he does." I swung the butt of my shotgun into her jaw. Jack kindly obliged me by collapsing into a pile of unconscious woman. I picked her up with difficulty for she’s no petite little flower, and put her back in the snow-cat.

I re-parked the cat under a snowy eave, what was once a second story balcony. I waited just long enough for her to come round, then I split. She’d be awake in thirty seconds but it was all I needed to be gone. Let Jack tell Mr. Hart about the new arrivals. Cynthia might be one little girl but she was my responsibility now. They don’t call me Teacher because I like to clean the chalk brushes…

*

How to find a girl in a world without tracks? I didn’t even know what had taken her. Did her abductors travel on foot, in vehicles, fly or what? I had nothing but questions.

So, I just simplified it. If I had a captive, here on this spot, where would I go if I was on foot? (If it was anything else, I was cooked anyway.)

I looked down the wind-blown street. I decided I’d want to stay in the shadow of the buildings on whichever side was darker, because I’m hiding. (But would these critters feel that way? Would devil dogs and man-bats be a threat?) I didn’t know.

I followed the street, vainly hoping to see or hear something. More wind and snow. I pushed on despite the little voice in my head that said it was a matter of time before some hound picked me off. Maybe even Psycho.

I went another block when I heard something. It sounded like talking from a distance, only in no language I’d ever heard before. I slowed down, took cover behind an abandoned truck, only its cab sticking out above the surface of the snow.

On the other side, bold as a group of Sunday picnickers, sat three creatures. Each was about as tall as a man, but impossibly thin. Imagine an ape (for their fore-arms were long and their back legs short) with arms only an inch and a half thick. Their heads were the best Halloween mask you ever bought. Eyes larger than oranges but binocular. I saw one of them blink with three different eyelids. A hairless, bony head and a mouth that looked like the grill of a Buick. From this orifice they hooted like owls. Despite this, no frosty breath came out of their mouths. They were without clothing, hairless and yet not cold. I called them snow geeks right then and there. I saw them first, so I got to name them.

Under one of the geek’s bowed legs lie Cynthia. She wasn’t moving. She looked cold but alive.

Nothing much was happening so I waited a little longer. The geeks squawked and trilled at each other but not much else. I saw one walking back and forth. Awkward, not fast moving. I cocked the scattergun.

The sound brought them around in a hurry. I was surprised at how fast they could move when they wanted to. One of the geeks, the noisest one which I took for their leader, burbled at the others. I recognized the sound of barked orders. They were war-like and organized.

I had little choice now. It was a fight. I rose, aimed at their captain and watched him explode like silly putty. At the same time my head filled with lights and I was hitting the snow, limp as a rag doll.

I was awake. I could see the two geeks came around the truck cab and stare at me. One poked me with a finger. The other kicked the scattergun aside like it was a rancid dog turd. They babbled as they walked away. No coup de grace. Nothing. Just leave me to die.

I lay forever. Snow covered me with a think blanket. This was my only way of telling time. I could be half frozen to death and not even know it. I could feel nothing. Just snowflakes landing on my eye lashes.

Then I heard a roar. It stopped nearby. A few seconds later someone was standing over me. All I could see was their boot. I couldn’t raise my head to see. Whoever it was took my arm and began dragging me. I was stiff as a board and no help at all.

It was Jack. I could see her at last as she picked me up (no mean feat) and worked me into the snow-cat, banging my head three times. I didn’t care. Felt nothing. She dumped me on a seat. It was warm inside but I could feel no difference. Only the white puff of my breath had changed.

Jack stood there looking into my eyes. "Teacher, you dumb fucker," she said. "Why’d you have to go and do a stupid thing like this?" I saw the bruise on her jaw.

I tried to answer but all I could do was puff my breath. It was the shortest argument we ever had. Jack did not waste time on a rebuttal but poured a shot of whiskey down my mouth. Most of it ran out and down my coat but a little made its way down to my stomach.

"Sit tight now. We’re going to see Mr. Hart. Hold on – if you can." Jack was enjoying this too much. The cat roared to life and we were off.

*

I was sleeping again. In the dark I could see my old life. My wife, Sheryl. My house on Eastern. Our dog, Bowser. Only I couldn’t move. I wanted to touch them. I knew if I could just touch them they would be safe. Only I couldn’t.

*

"Wake up, you bastard, and help me," screamed Jack. She was shooting at something outside the window while driving a difficult course, bobbing and weaving around obstacles.

I reached up and rubbed my head.

"Mmnmn," I said. My mouth still didn’t work well. I got up. I fell. I got up again. The cat lurched and I fell. Six times I had to pull myself up to make it to the driver’s seat.

"Gmnmnn," I mumbled.

"Your shotgun’s under that seat. It fell there a while ago. Thank God, it—" Jack stopped talking, fired her pistol at a black shape descending towards us. I could see where we were and what she was shooting at now. Bats. Lots of bats. We were on the bridge and the man-bats didn’t seem happy about it.

"I’ve never seen them like this before. Usually we just drive through. Something has pissed them off."

"I think I know who." My words were slurred but they made sense. "My little freezing buddies."

The conversation stopped as we both shot at targets. The shotgun punched a hole in one bat, but it landed on the windshield long enough to do a death dance, before falling under the cat’s treads.

"What did you mean?" asked Jack a minute later.

I didn’t answer right away. I could see the end of the bridge now. Where was I going? What was Mr. Hart going to do to me? Had I said too much already?

I made my decision there. I was in this thing with Jack whether I liked it or not. If that meant Hart as well, then so be it. Besides, the more information I had the longer I would be valuable, and stay alive.

"I call them snow geeks." I described them in detail to Jack as she drove around another pile of frozen bat shit. "They were fearless. Hounds, bats, whatever."

"Top of the food chain, huh?"

"They’re intelligent, and technologically advanced. I didn’t even see a weapon, but they froze me—"

"It wasn’t freezing, really. Synaptic disruption probably. All your neurons just locked up. Your body wasn’t any colder than it should have been. If anything their ‘beam’ or whatever saved your life. You couldn’t freeze to death in that state."

"You seem to know a lot about this," I said suspiciously.

"Just guesswork."

"Whatever it was, those little pricks are a major threat. Even a small party armed with disrupters could wipe out a force of men five times as big."

"And they probably took the girl so they could learn more about humans."

"I didn’t get the feeling they were all that ignorant. Still, they can be killed. Quite easily by comparison to a man. They’re so slight in build."

"Sit down. Things will get rough here."

The snow-cat lurched forward. Jack slammed the wheel a hard right then left. A hound went flying over the top, blocking the windshield for only a moment.

"Shit! Would you look at that!" screamed Jack. Standing in a group at the end of the bridge was a group of snow geeks. Several of the gawkers had devil dogs lying at their feet. The hounds weren’t aggressive or dead, just sitting like good little doggies.

Jack stomped on the gas. We tore through them before they could do much. A single blue flash popped behind the cat but didn’t hit us. I assumed this was what the disrupter fire looked like when they weren’t freezing your brain.

"Well, I can confirm your story now," yelled Jack over the roar of the engine.

"And most of my theory too. Those hounds were like trained dogs."

"Why don’t you get some sleep. It’s a couple of hours to – to where we are going."

And you’d like me to be unconscious so I don’t know exactly where there is, I thought to myself. It was so easy to forget that Jack wasn’t really on my side.

"All right," I began to lie, but quickly changed my mind. I was looking out the back window. "What the fuck?"

Jack couldn’t take her attention away from the road, so I described for her what was coming up behind us. We were being followed. Geeks riding on hounds bounced a short distance back.

"Step on it," I yelled. I got the shotgun and took up a position in the back. When a geek got close I gave him birdshot. I saw a hound collapse under a good hit. The rider behind him scooped up the fallen geek without even breaking stride. The geeks could put any rodeo rider I’d ever seen to shame.

The followers kept up with us but never attempted to overtake us. The heavy snow-cat would make paste of any creature that got under its tracks. It was my impression that the geeks were waiting for something.

"Watch out for a road block, Jack. I’ve got a feeling we’re being herded into something," I yelled.

"The road is clear. I don’t think –"

A loud thump on the roof of the cat told us where the surprise was. I flew to the side window and saw bats above us. Unlike any time before, these bats had willing passengers. The geeks were hanging from their claws. Not like I had, squirming to escape, but controlling the man-bats with a hand on each foot. It looked like nothing more than a living parachute. When the bats reached the top of the cat, they let go, sending their geeks scuttling over the roof.

Another geek landed. I fired upward as best I could but the angle was all wrong.

"Damn it, Jack. I can’t get at them."

"Hang on!" I had just enough time to grab the top of a seat. Jack stomped on the brakes and two geeks tumbled over the front. Jack wasted no time flooring the accelerator. The crunch that followed could only be described as ‘cockroachy’. The snow-cat didn’t even jump.

"That’s not going to work twice," Jack snarled back to me.

"How much farther to – where ever it is we’re going?"

"At least another mile. But we can’t go there. It would lead them right to – we can’t. I know a safe place that’s closer anyway."

The cat turned suddenly right.

"It’s about three minutes, Teacher. Do what you can to keep them off. Shoot through the ceiling if you have to."

I would have said something, except a familiar flash exploded in my head. I was frozen. As I fell to the floor I saw Jack was too. The snow-cat was doing at least fifty miles an hour and it was under no one’s control!

* * *

Next: Snow Day

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