Last One In

Last One In


He couldn’t feel his nose. The scarf wasn’t doing a very good job of shielding him from the biting wind. He couldn’t believe he had gone all the way out here. It was the dead of winter. Trees caked in snow jutted up from the ground like dark skeletal hands. The sky was blind to the barren landscape as a thick white cloud seemed to stretch on forever. His eyes felt dry as he stood on the banks of this frozen pond. His gloved hands were shoved deep into his pockets and he flexed his arms for warmth. His breath puffed out in wisps that floated away into the air. He pulled his snow cap lower around his ears and then quickly shoved his hands back into his pocket. He could smell his acrid breath which irritated him further. His mouth was dry and his stomach was empty. This trip had not been planned. All because of those cursed texts.

His hand circled the top of his smart phone and he nervously rubbed the back of it. He felt it vibrate and quickly pulled it out of his pocket, his gloves catching on the outside. He grunted angrily and pulled it free. The cold stung his exposed skin and the phone slipped from his hand and landed screen down in the snow. He cussed and quickly leaned down to snatch it up. As he did so, the scarf slipped from behind his neck and swung itself into the snow. He swore again and swung the scarf back around his neck. He adjusted it, still clutching the phone and muttering more swear words. Once the scarf was back in place, he redressed his gloves and checked his phone. He wiped away the snow the best he could. He saw only the lock screen and time. No notification, no message, nothing. He swore once more and shoved the phone back in his pocket. This time he tucked his hands under his armpits and closed his eyes.

He hated the cold. He felt you had to choose between warmth and freedom of movement. He was a long way from home and anxiety made him rock back and forth. This was the place they told him to go. Half in an attempt to keep warm, he reflected on where he was just yesterday. He had been in his nice warm house. He had consumed two fingers of the three in his whiskey glass. He was getting close to a nice buzz. He was listening to a podcast on his wireless headphones when a text chime had come through. He paused the music and lifted his phone. It was a picture message from a number he didn’t recognize. He was rollicking through tinder lately. This could be a past conquest begging for him to come back. Or maybe a future one. He grinned and flicked open the message. Then his blood ran colder than the outdoors he would later stand in. The photos were of him.  They were from an overseas business trip. He dropped the phone as if it shocked him and he began to pace. He heard it continue to buzz and suddenly he was too warm.


His phone vibrating violently brought him back. He was here by this wretched pond, layered as best he could be. He reached into his pocket quickly and retrieved the phone. Across the screen in big white letters was the word UNKNOWN. He took the call. The voice was genderless, ageless, nearly robotic.

“Walk” It said, then silence. He checked the screen to see if the call was still going and he could see the call timer running.

“Hello…?” He said shakily, trying to hide his fear and anxiety.

He waited, watching the numbers on the screen increase.

“Who is this?!” He shouted savagely, letting all pretense slip away.

“Walk forward.” The voice returned, still neutral.

He looked ahead. He was at the very edge of the pond.

“You want me to-“ He started

“Yes.”

“Are you crazy?! I’m not walking out there! I have no clue how sturdy it is. Or what the hell is underneath! I am not-“

The phone buzzed in his hand and he looked at the screen. Another video text this time. His mouth felt more dry and he looked from the phone to the pond and back again. He didn’t open the message and clicked the screen off. He lowered the scarf and took a deep breath of the cold air to calm himself. He immediately regretted the decision as the chill air burned his throat. His whole body felt hot from stress while his exposed face felt a numbing cold. The mixed sensations made him nauseous. He put the scarf back in place and looked over the clothes he was wearing.


Some of the stuff he bought on the trip here. The hat, the padded jacket, the gloves and the extra thick socks had all been procured on the road. The jeans that were tucked into the socks and the dark hiking boots were his. He had driven all night and a good part of today. He hadn’t eaten much at all and consumed energy drinks for the last part of his journey. His empty stomach grumbled and he could taste the sour citrus of the last energy drink. The trip had been a cloud of rights and lefts with various highways and interstates mixed in. He didn’t have a terrific sense of direction and had simply followed the ghostly voice of the GPS.


The texts had been very specific with the location. There were other instructions too. This was a remote area and his service waxed and waned then got progressively worse the closer he got the location. Buildings and light fixtures gave way to sprawling plains and wooden fences. Four lane roads paired down to a two lane. He had never been this way before and his mind could barely focus as it fought back the dread of what could lie ahead for him. And what would happen if he didn’t show.


He reached one foot out onto the ice. It had some snow scattered about the surface of it. He tapped his toe tenuously. The ice appeared white and thick. He didn’t see any liquid under the surface. He slowly put a little weight down on his foot. Everything still felt fine. He envisioned the comics he read as a kid. A character walking out on a frozen pond, everything seeming to be fine. Then the word “crack” in giant letters as the panic arose the character’s face. Then the giant black lines were drawn in the smooth ice. He shook his head and flinched backward. The phone buzzed in his hand again and he looked over.

“Go. Or else.” It said.

He swore and put his foot back down. He took one careful step forward. Then another. Then another. He tread lightly forward for about five feet and then he heard it. Very lightly. A creak. He stopped. He withdrew the foot that was in front of him and took a full step backwards toward the shore. He stood stock still, looking at the surface of the pond. He was desperately searching for any cracks he could find. He bent over, trying to not move his feet much and scanned the surrounding area as best he could. He saw only white. He might as well be standing on one big ice-cube. He noticed he was breathing heavily, his fetid breath filling his nostrils. He lowered the scarf and the frigid air-filled his mouth. He took a few gulps of frosty air and put the scarf back. He rubbed his hand over the scarf, trying to warm his lips. His phone trembled and he realized it wasn’t from nerves. Another text message.

It read “She was underage, Alan. They all were. Walk.”


He stared at the screen and any hope he had of convincing himself to go back died. They knew too much. As he took more careful steps towards the center of the pond he racked his brain about who this could be. If he were honest, it could be anyone.


CREAK


A very loud creak this time and he stopped again. He looked all around him, searching frantically for cracks or jagged edges, seeing nothing but white. The phone went off again. He felt sweat break out in his gloves and he stupidly wiped them on his pant legs. He looked at the phone and was able to read the entire message in the preview window.


“You left me for dead.”


Then it home to him. Teddy. They had left him to die. He cried out.

“Teddy! C’mon man! I’m sorry! We had to leave! We had to!”

His phone buzzed and he answered. He licked his dry lips and the chill was nearly painful.

“Teddy!” He gasped.

“Walk forward, Alan.” The voice was still neutral. It didn’t sound at all like his old work buddy.

“Look, Teddy, I’m sorry, man. I really am. Those drug guys were after us, dude. We had to get out of there.” They had left him at the hotel. Apparently, Phil had ripped off some locals to get them high. He didn’t think they’d track him down. But apparently they made too much noise and a bunch of white guys partying at a hotel and snorting up a storm garnered attention. Ironically Saint Teddy had not partaken in any of the partying. Or the other activities they had done. Alan didn’t remember most of it. Just the screams, the panic, the five of them chasing down a taxi and the fearful ride to the airport. All of them spent the ride either ducked down or looking out the windows. It wasn’t until they were on the plane and flying back to the US that any of them breathed easy. All of them thought Teddy had been killed. They had all played dumb when his family or the company asked about him. They had said he overslept and missed the flight. They were his co-workers, not his babysitters.

CRACK.

A long black line now stretched out in front of him. His phone buzzed again. More videos and then a single line of text that he could read.

“You’re the final one, Alan. You guys should have stayed in touch more.”


CRACK.

The line spread further and broke into a web of cracks beneath him. His mind raced and he decided to go for it. He eased up and then sprinted to the shore in front of him. His second step punched through the ice and he felt his foot engulfed in the freezing depths. It happened in slow motion. He fell forward, his chest hitting the edge of the ice. He felt his knee hit solid ground and heard a loud crack. Pain detonated in his knees and then he felt the ice give way. His entire lower body was submerged now. His phone had gone skidding away and lay a few feet away from him on the ice. He clawed at the pond’s surface, trying to dig his manicured nails in with little success. He could no longer feel his feet and was quickly losing sensation in his legs. He tried to kick and scratch but he couldn’t pull himself up. Then the ice holding his arms cracked and he sank into the water. He thrashed around desperately, trying to find another grip for his hands so he could climb out. The cold slowly did it\s work. He could feel the heat being leached from body and his chattering teeth bit into his tongue. The warm blood provided a momentary solace before cold water rushed in. He became weaker and weaker. He sank beneath the surface. A few bubbles rose to the top of the pond. Then they disappeared.