CHAPTER FIVE
Four Days Until Christmas
Sergei
My bedroom door is still closed and the house silent when I wake up.
I never planned on sleeping on my sofa in my own house but, fortunately, the cushions are about the same firmness as my bed. And that’s intentional.
I’m all about comfort.
It’s still early, and very dark. Exactly how I like to start my day.
The hinges are silent as I open the bedroom door and make my way across the carpet to the dresser.
After grabbing some clothes, I look over my shoulder at Barrett, buried beneath my comforter, her shoulders rising and falling with steady breaths.
I knew she’d sleep well in my bed, which is half the reason I let her stay there.
After indulging myself for a few more moments, I continue to the bathroom to shower and get dressed.
I should’ve asked Barrett what she drinks in the morning. I’m not used to having houseguests. Edie’s managed to paw open the door and now she’s curled up at the end of the bed. Barrett mentioned she used to have a cat, so I assume she won’t mind if I let Edie stay.
Back out in the great room, I finish making my usual dirty Chai latte and open my laptop to respond to emails and check cameras.
Hopefully the shot of espresso will wash out the vile taste of that goddamn nicotine gum.
I have an iron stomach and I can eat anything, but something about it is just so off-putting.
I’ve been smoking for nearly half my life, since I was 12 years old. And since starting this process a couple of months ago, I can finally admit that I was na?ve to think quitting would be as easy as chewing some gum. I should’ve gone with the patch, but here we are.
I pop another piece as soon as I wake up, followed by copious amounts of caffeine.
At least I’m good and awake now. And after a storm like this, it takes at least a day to figure out which roads are impassable and which ones will be traversable by snowmobile.
It's easy enough to get to town in an emergency, as long as you’re conscious.
But air travel is a no-go, and that’s if you could even get to the airport.
And from the forecast, we might be getting more snow tonight.
Right now, I just want to make sure the wind didn’t tear off any roofing or a tree hasn’t crushed any of my buildings.
After confirming the facility is still intact, save for some debris, I start checking the cameras on my own property.
I click on the first motion detection just after the 0300 timestamp.
Taking a sip from my mug, my hand stills as I watch a dark shadow flit in and out of the light at the edge of the trees beyond the shed.
It could be one of the many deer or elk that traverse the mountain.
It moves in the shadows, too dark to see at first, as though deciding whether it’s safe to emerge.
But the way it moves is unsettling, which makes me think it’s something else.
There’s a break in the snowfall for about 15 minutes when a dark leg finally steps out into the stark contrast of the snow.
It’s not a deer or an elk.
Soon, a black shape slowly emerges from the tree line.
It takes two strides forward before it hesitates and remains still for three minutes and 18 seconds, making sure to stay out of the light.
Periodically, it jerks its head from side to side, scanning the terrain.
Finally, it begins creeping toward the house, its face obscured by its hunched posture.
It reaches the rocks lining the foundation, crouched slightly as it lifts its nose to the edge of the window.
The bedroom window.
After another minute, it lumbers around the corner of the house and up the porch to the full-length windows and slowly turns to stare through the glass for 12 minutes and 38 seconds...
Watching me sleep.
I’m surprised my gaze detection didn’t trigger from how intently it’s posted up just on the other side of the window. Eventually, it pivots and ambles back the way it came, careful to stay in its original tracks.
Very smart. Very intelligent.
After it retreats back to the cover of the forest, the remainder of the night is uneventful.
The usual wildlife triggers the cameras and the snow returns to cover the tracks.
I watch the footage three more times as I finish my drink, studying the size, stature, and uncanny movements of the interloper.
I’ve never seen it before, and the way it constantly glances around and hesitates suggests that it’s probably never been here before, either.
Barrett is still asleep, so I take the opportunity to go outside and examine the path myself as the sun rises. Smoky grey clouds still hang heavy in the sky, ready to drop more snow, but I can see the remnant prints easy enough.
The invader is clever, but not perfect.
The house blocks the west wind, leaving three tracks still visible at the edge of the foundation where the fresh snow drift doesn’t reach. I crouch down to examine the pristine white indentations.
The prints are larger than a deer, but smaller than a bear. I’m used to bears, but clearly, I’ll be tracking something else—something with decidedly more anthropomorphic characteristics.
I doubt Barrett will be coming outside to wander around anytime soon, but just in case, I don’t want to concern her.
I start sweeping my boot back and forth across the prints, until they’re nothing but a smear intermingled with my own.
Then I head back down the hill, following the tracks into the woods to see how far they go.
If I come across any more signs to indicate this is what I think it is, I’ll be returning for a weapon. And if that’s the case, then no one will be setting foot outside this house again until I’ve neutralized it.
Chess, not checkers.