29 Dec Frostbite

Part I

The wipers beat furiously against the windshield, but they could barely keep up with the snow. Thick, wet flakes streaked the glass, clumping together in icy smears that blurred Jack Harper’s view of the road. Highway 47 stretched out ahead of him, a barely visible ribbon of white winding through the storm. The snow had come fast, and it wasn’t letting up.

Jack muttered a curse under his breath and leaned forward, gripping the wheel with his calloused hands. The clock on the dashboard told him he was already behind schedule. If he didn’t deliver the shipment on time, he’d be looking at a pay cut he couldn’t afford.

Outside, the wind roared like an angry beast, battering the cab of his truck. Jack tried to ignore it, keeping his focus on the road. He’d driven through worse storms in his time. Black ice, though—that was the real danger. A thin, transparent layer of ice that formed when temperatures dropped below freezing, often after rain or sleet, or when snow melted and refroze quickly. Unlike regular ice, which appears white or frosty, black ice was nearly invisible, blending seamlessly with the dark surface of asphalt, making it exceptionally difficult to spot—and quite easy to fall prey to. And the conditions at the moment, Jack knew, were perfect for it.

His eyes flicked to the temperature gauge. It was plummeting fast, dipping well below freezing in a matter of minutes. Jack frowned. That didn’t make sense. The heater was still blasting hot air, but the cab felt colder somehow, like the storm was seeping in through the cracks.

The radio crackled to life, snapping Jack out of his thoughts. A garbled voice struggled to cut through the static. “…hazardous…road…black ice ahead…turn back…”

Jack reached for the dial, but the message disappeared, replaced by hissing static. “Well, that’s helpful,” he muttered, giving the volume knob a frustrated twist before letting it go.

As the road curved, his headlights caught something shimmering ahead—a patch of black ice stretching across both lanes. Jack cursed and eased off the gas, feeling the weight of the truck shift as the tires slid, then caught traction again.

“Damn it,” he muttered, gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. He slowed to a crawl, carefully maneuvering the truck around the slick patch. The ice gleamed in the headlights, almost like it was wet, but the air outside was far too cold for that.

Though black ice itself was a natural occurrence, something about this particular patch made his skin crawl. Jack couldn’t quite put his finger on why.

A dark shape loomed up ahead. Jack squinted through the snow, trying to make it out. It was a car, abandoned on the shoulder, half-buried in a mound of snow. Its driver’s door hung open, swaying weakly in the wind.

Jack slowed to a stop, his headlights flooding the car with light. He couldn’t see anyone inside, but something about the scene felt wrong.

Climbing down from the cab, he braced himself against the icy wind. His boots crunched over the snow, but the sound faded as he stepped closer to the car. Around the vehicle, sharp, icicle-like spikes jutted up from the ground, glinting faintly under the lights.

Jack crouched to get a better look. The tires were shredded, torn to ribbons. He reached out to touch one of the spikes, but a faint sound stopped him cold.

A whisper.

It wasn’t the wind.

Jack stood, his breath fogging in the air. The road seemed to shimmer beneath his feet, and for just a moment, he thought he saw it move.

Then his truck’s headlights flickered.

Jack froze, listening. The wind howled over the highway, carrying with it faint murmurs that made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. He turned back toward the truck, squinting through the snow as its headlights faltered again, dimming just enough to leave the shadows outside the beam dancing.

He felt the instinct to leave. Now.

Climbing back into the cab, he slammed the door shut and threw the truck into gear. The tires spun for a moment on the slick ice before catching, and the heavy vehicle lurched forward. He glanced in the rearview mirror as he passed the abandoned car. It sat lifeless in the snow, the jagged ice spikes around it gleaming faintly.

Jack shook his head, trying to shake off the unease. “Just a damn storm,” he muttered to himself, gripping the wheel tighter.

A few minutes later, he spotted something up ahead—another car, this one sitting sideways across the middle of the road. The driver’s-side door was open, and a figure stood on the roof, their arms wrapped tightly around themselves.

Jack slowed the truck, his mind racing. Whoever it was, they couldn’t last long out here. He brought the truck to a stop a safe distance away, rolled down the window, and called out, “Hey! You okay?”

The figure turned toward him, revealing a woman bundled in a heavy coat and scarf. She waved frantically, her face pale and panicked. Jack threw the truck into park and hopped down, pulling his coat tighter against the icy wind as he approached.

“Are you hurt?” he asked as he neared.

The woman shook her head. “It’s the road,” she said, her voice trembling. “It’s not—it’s not normal.”

Jack frowned. “What do you mean?”

She pointed to the ground. “The ice… it—it moves. It grew up around my car, and—” She hesitated, looking past him toward the road. “And it’s hunting us.”

“Hunting?” Jack’s voice was skeptical, but the look in her eyes was anything but irrational. She was terrified.

Before he could press her for more, the wind changed, carrying with it a low, groaning sound that seemed to come from the ground itself. Jack turned sharply, his gaze dropping to the highway.

The ice shimmered again, more vividly this time, the black patches shifting slightly under the dim glow of his truck’s headlights.

“It’s coming back!” the woman said, her voice rising in panic. “We need to go! Now!”

Without waiting for a response, she climbed down from the car, limping slightly as she moved toward Jack’s truck. Jack followed her, his eyes flicking back to the road. The black ice was spreading.

He swore under his breath and hurried to the cab, helping her up before slamming the door behind them.

“What’s your name?” he asked as he started the truck again, throwing it into gear.

“Maria,” she said, hugging herself tightly. Her voice was hoarse, like she’d been screaming for hours.

“Well, Maria, we’re getting the hell out of here.”

The truck rolled forward, the tires crunching over snow and ice. Jack kept his eyes on the road, but the black ice was everywhere now, stretching out in unnatural patterns. His headlights caught a faint shimmer ahead, and he slowed, his jaw clenching.

The road ahead seemed clear, but he could feel it—like the ice was watching them, waiting for the right moment to strike.

“Don’t stop!” Maria said suddenly, her voice sharp. “It’ll get us if you stop!”

Jack nodded, pressing the accelerator gently to keep the truck moving at a steady pace.

Then it happened.

A spike of ice shot up from the road, slamming into the side of the truck’s trailer with a metallic crash. Jack jerked the wheel instinctively, narrowly avoiding another spike that erupted directly in front of them.

“What the hell?!” Jack shouted.

Maria screamed, gripping the dashboard as the truck skidded on the slick road. More jagged spikes burst from the ground, like teeth rising to devour them.

Jack fought to keep control, his hands shaking as he turned the wheel back and forth, dodging the deadly protrusions. The truck swerved violently but stayed upright, narrowly missing another patch of black ice that shimmered like it was alive.

“The ice,” Maria said, her voice trembling. “It’s trying to stop us. It doesn’t want us to leave.”

“No kidding!” Jack muttered through gritted teeth.

They made it past the worst of the spikes, but the truck was damaged. A loud, rhythmic thumping came from the back wheels—one of the tires had been punctured. It was only a matter of time before it was completely flat.

“Damn it!” Jack said. “We’re not gonna make it far like this!”

Maria’s face was pale, her eyes wide as she stared out the window. “We can’t stop! It’ll kill us if we stop!”

Jack clenched his jaw. He knew she was right. But they couldn’t keep driving like this, not with a blown tire in the middle of a storm.

A loud groaning sound filled the air again, deeper this time, vibrating through the cab. Jack’s stomach turned as he glanced in the rearview mirror.

The black ice behind them was shifting, rising like a wave.

And it was coming straight for them.

Part II

The groaning sound grew louder, resonating through the truck like a low, bone-rattling hum. Jack’s hands tightened on the wheel, his eyes flicking between the windshield and the road behind them. In the side mirror, he caught glimpses of the black ice shifting, coiling like smoke trapped beneath glass.

“What the hell is that?!” Jack growled, more to himself than to Maria.

“It’s alive,” Maria said, her voice trembling. “I told you—it’s hunting us!”

Jack wanted to snap at her, tell her how crazy that sounded, but the evidence was right in front of him. The ice wasn’t natural. It wasn’t just sitting there waiting for the storm to pass. It was moving, creeping along the asphalt.

“Yeah, well, it’s not getting us!” Jack muttered, slamming his foot on the accelerator. The truck groaned in protest, the damaged tire thudding rhythmically against the road, but it lurched forward.

They raced down the highway, the snow swirling around them in a blinding haze. For a few minutes, it seemed like they might outrun it. Jack’s breathing slowed, and his grip on the wheel loosened slightly. Then Maria gasped, pointing out the window.

“Look!” she cried.

Jack followed her gaze. The ice was spreading again, faster this time, overtaking the road like a tidal wave. Long, jagged tendrils shot out from the edges, curling toward the truck like reaching fingers.

“It’s cutting us off!” Maria said, her voice rising.

“No, it’s not!” Jack growled, yanking the wheel to the left. The truck veered sharply, skidding onto a snow-covered shoulder to avoid the encroaching ice. The tires slipped and groaned, but they stayed on track.

The ice hissed, the sound sharp and grating, as if it were angry.

“Did it just… make a noise?” Jack asked, his voice laced with disbelief.

Maria didn’t answer. She was staring straight ahead, her face ashen. Jack turned back to the road and saw why.

Another vehicle sat in the middle of the highway, its frame almost entirely encased in ice. The windshield was frosted over, but Jack could make out the faint outline of a figure in the driver’s seat. They weren’t moving.

Jack slowed the truck as they approached. The ice around the car glinted like shattered glass, jagged spikes radiating outward in an almost deliberate pattern.

“Don’t stop!” Maria whispered, her voice low and urgent. “Please, don’t stop!”

But Jack’s foot hesitated on the pedal.

“Someone might still be alive,” he said, his voice uncertain.

Maria shook her head violently. “No one’s alive in there! That’s what it does—it traps you, freezes you! It bites down and… drains you.”

Jack’s stomach turned at her words. He thought of the car he’d seen earlier, of its shredded tires and the open door. He thought of the way the ice seemed to reach for him, the strange, whispering sound it made.

“Keep going!” Maria pleaded.

The black ice was catching up again, spreading across the highway with terrifying speed. Jack steeled himself and pressed the accelerator.

The truck roared as it surged forward, narrowly skirting the encased vehicle. For a moment, the headlights illuminated the figure inside.

It was a man, his face frozen in a mask of terror. Icy, jagged fangs had pierced through the windshield, embedding themselves in his chest and limbs. His eyes were wide, glassy, and lifeless.

Jack swore, yanking the wheel as the truck veered back onto the highway. The ice around the enveloped car twitched, as if reacting to their escape, and a sharp crack rang out as new spikes erupted from the ground in their wake.

Maria buried her face in her hands and sobbed, her voice shaking. “I told you, it bites them! It traps them and drains them until there’s nothing left!”

Jack said nothing. The image of the frozen man’s face burned into his mind.

The truck barreled down the road, but the black ice was relentless. Tendrils stretched across the asphalt, rising up like claws to intercept them. Jack swerved to avoid one, but the truck’s damaged tire slipped on the slick surface, sending the rig fishtailing.

“Hold on!” Jack shouted, gripping the wheel as the truck swerved wildly.

The ice lunged again, and this time, it wasn’t just spikes.

A massive, gaping crack formed in the road ahead, jagged teeth of ice lining its edges like the maw of some ancient beast. The “mouth” snapped shut just as Jack veered to the side, the force of the impact sending shards of ice flying through the air like shrapnel.

One shard smashed into the windshield, cracking the glass. Another embedded itself in the side mirror, shattering it completely.

Maria screamed, clutching the dashboard. “It’s trying to eat us!”

Jack wrestled the wheel, forcing the truck back onto the road. “No kidding!” he snapped.

The groaning noise deepened, rumbling through the air like a predator’s growl. The ice wasn’t just chasing them—it was learning. It was trying new ways to corner them.

The headlights illuminated another patch of road ahead, but this one wasn’t like the others. It looked… calculated. The black ice had formed a lattice-like pattern across the highway, serrated protrusions jutting up at uneven intervals.

“It’s a trap,” Maria whispered, her voice shaking.

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Not if we’re faster!”

“Jack, no—”

He didn’t let her finish. He floored the gas, the truck roaring as it hurtled toward the jagged obstacle.

The first few spikes shattered under the truck’s heavy tires, but the deeper they went, the harder it became. One of the icy teeth slashed into the side of the trailer, slicing through the steel like paper. Another pierced the undercarriage, sending a deafening clang reverberating through the cab.

The truck jolted violently, and Jack fought to keep it steady. “Come on, come on!” he muttered, sweat beading on his forehead despite the frigid conditions.

They burst through the other side of the trap, the black ice shattering beneath them. Jack let out a shaky breath, but the relief was short-lived.

In the side mirror, he saw the ice melting and sliding back together, the shattered pieces seamlessly reassembling.

As they pressed on, the road became increasingly treacherous. More cars dotted the highway, each one encased in icy thorns. Some were barely recognizable, their frames twisted and warped as if they’d been chewed apart.

In one of the cars, Jack spotted another frozen figure—a woman this time, her body contorted unnaturally. Long, saw-like shards of ice had pierced through her torso and limbs, pinning her in place. Her mouth was open in a silent scream.

Maria looked away, her voice barely a whisper. “They’re trophies. It keeps them like that.”

Jack’s stomach churned. He wanted to deny it, to tell her she was wrong, but the evidence was undeniable. Whatever this thing was, it wasn’t just killing—it was feeding, and gloating.

The ice was everywhere now, spreading faster than he’d thought possible. The unsettling hum had grown thunderous, echoing all around them like the howl of a ravenous animal.

For a moment, Jack thought he saw something in the rearview mirror—a dark, instinct shape moving within the ice. It was massive, stretching across the road with ease.

Maria saw it too. “It’s not just the ice,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “There’s something inside it. Something controlling it.”

Jack didn’t respond. He couldn’t. His focus was entirely on the road ahead, on the next patch of black ice waiting to strike.

And deep down, he knew she was right.

Part III

The groaning sound grew deafening, a low, guttural rumble that rattled the cab of the truck. Jack pressed the accelerator harder, but the truck was flagging, its damaged tire thudding unevenly against the frozen ground. Maria clutched the dashboard, her eyes fixed on the torrent of death spreading behind them.

“We can’t outrun it!” she said, her voice trembling.

“Then what do you suggest?!” Jack shot back, briefly losing his temper. “If we stop, it kills us! If we keep going, it still tries to kill us!”

Maria didn’t answer. Ahead, the road narrowed, curving sharply between two snowbanks. The ice surged faster, its jagged tendrils rising from the asphalt like the ribs of some long-dead creature.

The truck groaned as Jack swerved to avoid yet another patch of ice spikes exploding from the ground. The trailer clipped one, metal screeching as the shard tore a deep gash along its side.

“Damn it!” Jack cursed.

The truck fishtailed again, the mangled tire skidding over the slick surface. Maria screamed as the black ice surged ahead of them, cutting off their only escape route by means of an impenetrable, glittering wall. Jack jerked the wheel hard, again steering the truck onto the snowy shoulder.

The engine bellowed in protest as the truck plowed through the snowbank, the cab rattling violently. Jack fought to keep control, but the vehicle slowed, grinding to a halt as the snow packed itself tightly beneath the wheels.

“No, no, no! Come on!” Jack muttered, slamming his foot on the pedal. The tires spun uselessly, kicking up plumes of snow.

Maria turned to him, her eyes wide with panic. “It’s here!”

Jack followed her gaze to the rearview mirror. The black ice was creeping closer, its makeshift appendages unfurling like the roots of a rapidly growing tree. The groaning sound grew shrill, as the ice spread across the snow, closing the distance between them.

“Move!” Maria shouted, scrambling to open the passenger door.

Jack followed her out into the bone-chilling wind. The air was bitterly cold, burning his lungs with each inhalation. They stumbled through the snow, the still-running truck looming uselessly behind them.

“What’s the plan?” Maria yelled, her voice barely audible over the wintry gale.

“I don’t have one!” Jack admitted.

The ice struck the truck.

Jack turned just in time to see it happen. Coils of black ice lashed out, wrapping around the vehicle like the tentacles of some massive sea creature. The metal groaned as the spikes pierced the cab, tearing through its exterior as if it were paper.

The truck shuddered violently, then stopped. Steam rose from its engine, mingling with the freezing air. The ice tightened its grip, and Jack could hear the sickening sound of metal crumpling.

“We need to move!” Maria screamed, grabbing his arm.

They stumbled away from the truck as the ice surged after them, the groaning sound now accompanied by sharp, snapping noises. Jack looked back and saw why: the ice had again formed serrated, teeth-like protrusions, snapping open and shut like a pair of massive jaws.

They ran as fast as they could, the snow dragging at their legs. Maria stumbled, falling hard onto her hands and knees. Jack doubled back, grabbing her under the arms and pulling her to her feet.

“It’s herding us!” she said. “It’s not just chasing us—it’s driving us somewhere!”

Jack didn’t respond. His focus was on the horizon, scanning for any sign of escape. The highway stretched endlessly ahead of them, a barren wasteland of snow and ice.

Then he saw it.

An abandoned car sat ahead, half-buried in snow. The driver’s door hung open, and Jack spotted the faint glint of something on the passenger seat.

“A flare gun,” he muttered.

“What?” Maria asked.

“There’s a flare gun in that car!” Jack said. “If I can get to it, maybe I can—”

His words were cut off by a deafening crack. The ice had surged ahead of them, rising up in another jagged wall that blocked their path.

Behind them, the ice was closing in. Tendrils unfurled like the legs of a giant spider, curling toward them with horrifying speed.

“We’re trapped!” Maria cried.

“No, we’re not!” Jack said, pulling her toward the car. “Come on!”

They reached the car just as the ice lunged. A tendril shot toward them, slamming into the snow with a sharp, splintering sound. Jack yanked the door open, grabbing the flare gun from the seat.

“Got it!” he shouted, turning back to Maria.

She was standing a few feet away, staring at the ice. Tendrils were rising around her, encircling her like a predator stalking its prey.

“Maria, move!” Jack yelled.

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “It’s not going to stop, Jack. You know that.”

Jack’s chest tightened. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“It wants us both,” Maria said, her voice steady despite the terror in her eyes. “But if I stay, maybe you’ll have a chance to get out.”

“No!” Jack shouted, stepping toward her. “Are you insane?!”

Before she could respond, the ice struck, and a tendril wrapped around Maria’s leg, yanking her off her feet. She screamed as it dragged her toward the icy barricade, its hideous fangs gnashing hungrily.

Jack raised the flare gun, aiming for the nearest tendril. He fired, the flare streaking through the air and striking the ice. The tendril recoiled, hissing like a wounded animal, but it didn’t let go of Maria.

“Go!” she screamed through tears, her voice breaking. “Get out of here, Jack!”

Jack hesitated for a moment, then turned and ran.

The ice was everywhere, surging around him. Jack stumbled through the snow, the flare gun clutched tightly in his hand. He spotted a pool of gasoline leaking from the wrecked truck and stopped, his mind racing.

“This better work,” he muttered.

He fired the flare into the pool.

The explosion was deafening. Fire roared through the air, melting the ice in an instant. Tendrils writhed and recoiled, the groaning sound rising to a deafening shriek. Jack shielded his face from the heat, stumbling backward as the fire spread.

When he looked up, the ice was retreating, sliding back across the highway like a wounded animal.

Jack didn’t wait to see if it would return. He bolted in the opposite direction, the roar of the flames echoing behind him.

Jack’s legs felt like lead, but he staggered forward, every step heavy and uncertain; there was no other choice. The world around him was silent now, except for the faint crackling of the spreading fire.

Maria’s screams still echoed in his ears.

He didn’t stop until the highway disappeared beneath the snowdrifts, leaving only an expanse of white stretching endlessly ahead. When he finally collapsed to his knees, the adrenaline began to wane, replaced by a bone-deep exhaustion.

For a moment, all he could do was stare at the storm. He didn’t know how far he’d run, or how long the inferno would keep the ice at bay. The faint groaning sound that had haunted them faded, but he didn’t trust the silence. Not yet.

“Maria…” he croaked.

The image of her being dragged into the ice flashed through his mind—her terror, her resolve. She had given him the chance to escape, and now she was gone. He clenched his fists, feeling a pang of guilt that threatened to overwhelm him.

He forced himself to stand. The storm wasn’t letting up, and he had no idea how close he was to town. If the ice returned, he needed to keep moving.

The faint lights of a snowplow appeared on the horizon, cutting through the white haze. Relief washed over him as he stumbled toward it, waving his arms to flag it down.

* * * * * *

Two days later, Jack sat in a hospital bed, staring blankly at the small television mounted on the wall. News footage showed the aftermath of the storm on Highway 47: cars abandoned in the snow, roads torn apart by frost heaves. Officials blamed black ice and hazardous conditions for the deaths and destruction.

No one believed his story.

The reporter’s voice droned on: “Authorities are working to reopen the highway, but new reports of accidents have already surfaced. Drivers are urged to avoid the area until further notice.”

Jack’s hand tightened around the cup of lukewarm coffee in his lap. He wanted to scream at the screen, to warn them, but he knew it wouldn’t matter.

That night, he dreamed of Maria. In his nightmares, she was standing in the snow, her face pale and her eyes distant. Behind her, the black ice crept forward, spreading across the horizon.

When he woke, he could still hear the groaning sound echoing faintly in the back of his mind. It was etched into his memory, and unlike the monstrous entity that had nearly devoured him, he knew that it would never let him go.

Epilogue

A young family drove along Highway 47, the storm’s fury long forgotten. The road glistened under their headlights, a faint shimmer of black ice stretching ahead of them.

“Are we there yet?” the boy in the backseat asked, pressing his nose to the frosted window.

“Fifteen more minutes,” the father replied, smiling as he tightened his grip on the wheel. “Try to count all the icicles—we’ll make it a game.”

“They all look the same,” his teenage daughter groaned.

“Maybe if you put down your screen, you’d see more than icicles,” the mother teased, nudging her.

“Very funny,” the girl muttered, rolling her eyes.

As the father chuckled, the boy leaned forward, frowning. “Dad… the road looks weird.”

The father waved it off. “Just the headlights playing tricks. Don’t worry about it.”

In the distance, the ice began to shift.