The Black Ice Children

Muhammad Asim

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Transcript

00:00Truck driver Mason Halle had spent twenty winters crossing Saskatchewan Highway 16, but he had never seen the road this still.

00:08Snow hung in the air like powdered glass, and the thermometer on his dashboard kept flashing warnings.

00:15Black ice season, the kind that swallowed headlights.

00:18Around mile 142, his radio cracked with static.

00:22Not the usual sharp bursts this sounded like whispering.

00:26Childlike, playful, rhythmic.

00:29Mason lowered the volume.

00:31Uneasy.

00:31And that's when he saw them.

00:33Three kids, standing right in the middle of the road.

00:37They were dressed in thin pajamas, barefoot on the frozen asphalt, and somehow completely untouched by the snowflakes falling around them.

00:45Their faces were pale, ice too dark, to reflect of like the polished surface of fresh ice.

00:51Mason slammed the brakes.

00:53His truck shuddered, fishtailed.

00:55And the kids moved as one.

00:57Not running.

00:59Not dodging.

01:01Sliding.

01:02Smoothly.

01:04Uniformly.

01:05Like someone had grabbed all three and pulled them across the road on an invisible rope.

01:10They drifted under his headlights, passing under the front of his truck.

01:14He felt nothing, no bump.

01:16No impact, only the bone-deep cold that surged through the cabin.

01:19When the truck finally stopped, the road behind him was empty.

01:23No footprints.

01:25No kids.

01:26Just black ice glisting like an oil slick.

01:29His hand shook as he stepped out.

01:31The moment his boots touched the pavement, a shrill laughter echoed high-pitched.

01:37Playful.

01:38Wrong.

01:38It came from beneath the truck.

01:40Mason dropped to his knees and peered under the chassis.

01:43The kids were lying flat against the ice, faces up, smiling.

01:48Their bodies didn't rise and fall with breath.

01:50Their eyes tracked him without blinking.

01:52One lifted a hand and tapped the underside of the truck once.

01:56Twice.

01:57Three times.

01:58The same rhythm he had heard on the radio.

02:00Mason bolted into the cab and floored the gas.

02:03Frost crawled up the inside of the windshield as if tiny fingers were tracing from the outside.

02:08The radio whispered again, this time in unison.

02:12Don't stop.

02:13We like when they stop.

02:15He didn't stop until he reached the next town.

02:18When he climbed down, he saw them again through his streaks frozen onto the underside of his truck.

02:24Child-sized.

02:25Face-shaped.

02:27Smiling.

02:28And still sliding.

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