Great White

on February 24, 2010 in Horror

He pulled the curtain aside and peered out through the window, out over the snow that was drifted up almost as high as the sill. What he would do if it got any higher, he didn’t know. Arm himself, probably.

“Henry?” his wife said from right behind him. Close enough to touch him. He thought she was going to. He expected to feel her hand on his arm like he usually did, but he didn’t. She was scared, he thought. She was right to be.

“Henry,” she said again, from a foot or two farther back, “they’ve plowed the roads again. We should really go out to the store while we can. We’ve used up all the canned soup, and there’s no milk or bread…”

“We can’t go out there,” Henry said, not taking his eyes off the snow, alert for any signs of movement.

“Henry, it’ll be fine. The truck has four wheel drive.”

“You think you’d make it to the truck?” he asked.

“It would be easier if you’d shovel the walk again, but the important thing is…”

“The important thing is that we’re in here and they’re out there,” he said.

What’s out there?” she asked.

“Sharks,” Henry said.

“Sharks? Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, just as another triangular fin slid out from beneath the whiteness and glided smoothly across the lawn.

“Look, look!” Henry said, pointing. He turned to see if his wife was seeing it, but she had turned to walk away. When he turned back to the window, the thing had submerged itself again.

“Henry, you’re getting cabin fever,” his wife said. “We all are, I suppose. I’m going to get the kids bundled up.”

“You can’t take the kids out there!”

“They need to get out, even just to the grocery store,” she said. “You do, too.”

“We have supplies left,” Henry said. “We can last until the snowmelts.”

“Supplies? We have fifty pounds of dry cat food you laid in when you were so afraid of that virus,” she said. “We’re not eating that, not when the stores are open and the roads are clear.”

“Honey, please listen to me,” he said, though he recongized the tone in her voice. She wouldn’t be persuaded or reasoned with.

“We’re going in fifteen minutes.”

Fifteen minutes to figure out how he could save his family from what was waiting outside… or to decide if he’d have to settle for saving the children, somehow, if their mother wouldn’t be stopped.

It was a grim choice, but a man had to do what it took to protect his family.

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One Response to “Great White”

  1. Andrea says:

    I really love this one. “Crazy” people are still people, but when their realities are so different… This fiction reminds me of someone I knew, but his reality actually made sense. The only thing that convinced everyone else he was wrong was their gut feeling–sort of like when you’re so sure that religion is right (or wrong). Both sides of the fence make sense, but they can’t both be right.

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