The Mist

could only be a matter of time before Leó broke his way in. She wondered why he hadn’t already done so. Did he want to win her trust, to save himself a struggle? He had already killed a man, so there was no reason to believe he would spare her.
Yet fear had given her a sudden burst of adrenaline and she walked towards the front door with a sure tread. There was no sound from outside, but she had to know if he was still there: ‘What do you want from me?’ she called, her voice hard and unwavering now.
There was no answer at first, which she found unnerving, then eventually Leó replied, his teeth audibly chattering: ‘Please let me in. Please. It’s so cold out here – it’s still snowing – and I need to talk to you.’
‘About what?’
‘You know what, Erla. You know.’
Her heart missed a beat and for a moment the walls seemed to be closing in on her. She had a vision that the snow had vanished, it was autumn, and a chill crept up on her, sending a shiver through her body. She shook herself.
‘What do you want from me?’ she repeated at last.
Before he could answer, she was away, running out of the hall, taking care not to make any noise, determined to fool Leó into thinking that she hadn’t moved. She put the candle down on the coffee table, snuffed it out, then ran along the passage to the kitchen to fetch the spare keys that were hanging from the hook on the wall. She knew just where to lay her hands on them in the dark. Then she hared back through the sitting room, past the stairs, past the bedrooms, to the back door, where she had sat earlier, wishing she could wake up from this nightmare.
Her mind was working furiously. There was no point trying to escape on foot and make her way to Anna’s house or the village beyond it, not in these conditions. He would easily catch up with her, and the poor old jeep, valiant as it was, wouldn’t be able to make any headway through the deep drifts blocking the road.
She opened the back door with infinite care, half expecting Leó to materialize outside, having guessed that she might be planning to escape that way; terrified that she would run slap into him. She was breathing in shallow gasps but, to her immense relief, she couldn’t see any sign of him near the house. Instead, she was knocked sideways by a violent gust that swept a wave of freezing snow over her and into the house. The ferocity of the storm was incredible. No wonder the electricity had gone. In weather like this, something had to give.
She closed the door noiselessly behind her, making sure that the lock clicked.
No turning back now.
Erla peered round the corner, screwing up her eyes against the blizzard, hardly able to see a thing but almost sure that Leó was nowhere near. He must still be at the front door, pleading with her to let him in, talking to her in the belief that she was listening just inside. She made a wild dash for the steps that led down to the cellar under the house. She could wait it out there. There were no windows, the door was thick and strong, and there were all kinds of tools and other implements that she could use in self-defence, if it came to that, and – most importantly of all – there was a supply of tins and perishable foods like potatoes.
She picked her way gingerly down the steps to the cellar door. The last thing she wanted was to slip and injure herself now. She tried to close her mind to the images that flashed into it.
Then she had to find the right key by feel; clumsy, fumbling in the dark, ready to cry with frustration. She snatched another look round before turning the key in the lock but, thank God, there was no one behind her.
As usual, it required a bit of a shove to open the door. Only when it gave way, scraping back into pitch blackness, did she realize that in her hysterical flight she had forgotten to bring any candles or matches.
Hell.
She tried to weigh up the alternatives, aware that there was no time to lose. Either waste precious minutes going back into the house or wait down here in the darkness. Neither alternative was good. Desperately, she tried to think straight. She couldn’t rely on Leó to remain unsuspecting by the front door much longer. Any minute now, he was going to come hunting for another way in. No, it wasn’t worth the risk. Heaving a deep breath, she stepped inside the cellar and forced the door shut behind her.

XXV
This new predicament was like nothing Erla had ever experienced before. She stood there, clinging on to the door handle as if it was a lifeline, not daring to move, utterly blind in the pitch-black cellar.
Of course, she had known it would be dark, but it was one thing to know something, another to experience it first hand. She was afraid of becoming disorientated the moment she let go of the handle. As long as she held on to it, she could at least be confident of the way out.
As a child, Erla had been afraid of the dark, but as an adult she’d thought she’d got over it. Now, though, the unreasoning terror quickened inside her again, the fear of what was lurking in the shadows. For a moment, she even had the crazy idea that Leó might be down there too; that he’d got hold of a key somehow and was lying in wait for her. She began to whimper.
Next minute, common sense kicked in. There was no way he could be down here. That was impossible. He would have had to move incredibly fast to get here before her, and there had been