Frostbite

The Dead Tell No Secrets

The wind whipped around us as we made our way up the path to the front door. Middlebury wasn't a big town, so it wasn't difficult to find Dr. Clerk's house once we left the motel. It was on the outskirts of town, surrounded by trees and set back far enough to make it secluded. The house itself was a decent size, not too big or too small.

"Looks like it's gonna rain soon," Steve said, glancing up at the dark sky as we walked.

"That'll make the trip back on your bike a load of fun," I joked. We climbed the steps to the front door and Steve knocked loudly. Nothing happened for several moments. He knocked again, louder than the last time.

"The car is in the driveway," I mumbled, peering through one of the front windows. I couldn't see anything. Sighing, I stood upright and turned back to Steve.

"Something feels off," he told me, trying the door. It was locked.

"Maybe the back is open?" I suggested. We both circled our way to the backyard, and I stopped short of the backdoor. There was shattered glass everywhere and the door was ajar. I pulled out my pistol, and Steve unhooked his shield from his back.

"I told you that you should've brought your suit," I hissed as I cautiously opened the door and entered the house.

"I did, it's just in my bag at the moment. I didn't think I'd need it for this," he whispered back. I snorted at that.

"Yeah, a light body armor suit never comes in handy when meeting a kidnapper who could possibly be deranged."

"I don't see you wearing a suit,"

"Touché."

The glass crunched beneath our feet as we entered the kitchen and moved into the next room. The house was disturbingly silent. The living room was empty as well. Where the hell is she?

"I'll check the upstairs," Steve told me, taking the stairs two at a time. I walked into another room connected to the living room. It was an office. I holstered my pistol, figuring it was safe to do so.

I went straight to the computer situated on the oversized desk and plopped myself down in the chair. When I powered it on, a lock screen popped up and I sighed in frustration. I didn't bring any form of tech required to hack into it. Maybe Tony should have come.

I got up and went over to one of the few filing cabinets in the room. As I shuffled through the various folders, I kept an ear out for Steve. Folder after folder and nothing useful. I moved on to the next cabinet and started the process again. When I got to the second drawer, I inhaled sharply. There was a folder with my name printed clearly on it.

My hands shook as I slipped the folder out and I opened it slowly, unsure of what I'd find. The first few pages were just my medical records, history, and the works. A few other pages were entirely in Russian; I was rusty, so it was slightly difficult to make out what it said. I had only made out a few sentences before Steve called out upstairs.

"Hey, Melanie! You should probably come up here!" he yelled, his voice strained. I rushed up the stairs and found him in the last room on the right.

"What-" I started to ask but froze immediately. There was a large pool of blood on the hardwood floor. Disappointment swept through me, almost crippling my self-control. Dr. Clerk had to be dead.

"There is no way anyone could have survived that much blood loss."

"I know," I mumbled, still preoccupied in my personal pity party.

"I'm sorry. We should probably call someone."

All I could manage was a small huff of acknowledgement. I couldn't look at his face, because I knew I'd see the concern. I didn't want to deal. Someone knew we were coming and made sure she wouldn't have a chance to spill any secrets. Something suddenly dawned on me.

"Wait- Why would they kill Dr. Clerk and move her body, but leave all the files untouched?"

"I don't know. What's in the folder?" he asked curiously. I handed the file over to him and started investigating the room as he glanced through the information. I'd have to thoroughly read through the papers later. I opened the closet and found that it was obsessively neat and organized.

"Your middle name is Katherine?" Steve mused, a small smile playing at his lips.

"Yes," I answered, eyeing him from my peripheral. He opened his mouth to say something else, but he stopped short, his eyes catching something behind me. Suddenly he was at my side, shoving me backward and forcing me to tumble into the closet. The papers scattered everywhere. At the same time, the window shattered, and Steve stumbled back a few steps. He was bleeding.

"Son of a bitch," I muttered. I rolled onto my feet and stayed low to the floor. Before another shot could be fired, I grabbed onto Steve's jacket and yanked him to the floor with me. He had blood seeping through the hole in his jacket and he grunted in pain. I reached up and snagged a thin shirt that was hanging up and tore it into a long strip.

"Take off your jacket, so I can stop the bleeding," I ordered him. He quickly complied and turned, so I could see his arm. I wrapped the cloth around the wound and secured it as best as I could.

"Thank you, Mel," Steve huffed.

"Don't thank me. You literally just took a bullet for me," I told him in astonishment and admiration.

"Anytime," he smiled painfully, "Who do you think it was?"

"No idea, but we should probably get out of here," I replied. I got up and helped Steve up from the floor. We kept close to the walls and flew down the stairs. Suddenly, I remembered something and started to charge back up.

"Damnit."

"Uh, where do you think you're going?" he asked me incredulously, grabbing my arm to stop me.

"We left the papers," I snapped back.

"I really think we should go," he argued, shaking his head.

"Well, I don't... wait... do you smell that?" I asked, turning my head slowly. There was a trail of liquid coming from the kitchen all the way through the house, right up to the stairs. Seconds later, flames came through the doorway, devouring everything in its path. Steve cursed and shoved me forward.

"Someone's really trying to kill us! Go!" he shouted. We ran up the stairs and opened the first door, but it was the bathroom and only had a tiny window. We turned to go back to the bedroom at the end of the hall, but there was now fire somehow coming from there too.

I went into the doorway of the bathroom and concentrated on the tub and sink faucets. Picturing them both overflowing, I lifted my hand and curled my fingers, summoning the water. It poured from the faucets and quickly began to overflow. I swung my arms towards the stairs, causing the water to rush down them like a rapid river. I kept going until the entire bottom floor was flooded.

"Good work," Steve whistled, impressed. I let the water slow down and we made our way back downstairs before the fire could catch up with us.

Something crashed through the side window and landed on the sofa. Steve snatched me back and hid us both behind his shield. We were blasted back by an explosion and flew straight through a window. I hit the ground and rolled several times before stopping, face down. I tried to push myself up but cried out in pain.

I definitely sprained my wrist. I rolled over and stared up at the house; it was burning, and ash was falling everywhere. I glanced around, my eyes searching frantically for Steve. I couldn't see him anywhere.

"Oh god."