Castle Kidnapped

Twenty-four Philadelphia, Outskirts

The driver was a young one, mid-twenties, maybe. He wore his head hair cropped at the sides and long in the back. The back of his head looked like the tail end of an animal Snowclaw hunted out in the tundra. The kid smoked skinny, wrinkled cigarettes that emitted a weedy, pungent smoke.

“Hey, you want a toke, Snowy?”

“What is it?”

The kid laughed, showing yellowed teeth. “It’s smoke, man.”

“No, thanks.”

“Hey, all right. Just trying to be friendly. How long you been working for Mr. Iannucco?”

“Not long.”

“Uh-huh. Where you from?”

“Canada.”

The sky was dark, but the countryside blazed with a million lights. Snowy had trouble understanding how anyone could sleep around here, it was so bright at night.

“How’re the women in Canada? I never been there.”

Snowy shrugged. Darned if he knew. He said, “Fine. Same as everywhere, I guess.”

“Hey, women are different different places. Know what I mean?”

“Nope.”

“Like, New York women are real wise-ass. You can’t pull anything on them. Try to hustle ’em, and they’ll put you down slicker than owl shit. But f’rinstance you take down South. Man, they’ll look at you with big eyes and buy the whole store. Ever been to Miami?”

“No.”

“In Miami —” The kid looked over and scowled. “Hey, you’re not even listening.”

“Huh? Sorry. They have so many lights around here.”

The kid didn’t know what to make of that. He turned his eyes back to the road.

They drove on into the night, galaxies of bright lights shooting by. Snowy had never realized until he got here how heavily populated this world was. Human dwellings blanketed the land, arrayed in rows on an endless crust of concrete. There was barely any dirt showing. Here and there, a stand of trees relieved the monotony. Things had looked the same outside since they left New York, two and a half hours ago.

“Christ, I’m hungry,” the kid complained. “I always get hungry on the road. You want to stop and get something to eat?”

“Um, maybe.”

“I’m gonna get off the greenstamp and get something. Some burgers or maybe a hero sandwich. You gonna have something to eat, or what?”

“What’s a hero sandwich?” Snowy asked.

“Don’t they got ’em in Canada? What do they call ’em? Submarines, hoagies?”

“Uh … I don’t know. I’ll have one of those hero sandwiches, though, if you don’t mind.”

“Christ awmighty. I never seen anything like it.”

“What’s wrong?” Snowy asked through a mouthful of Italian cold cuts and bread.

“I never seen anyone eat like that.”

“Is this too much?”

“Too much?” The kid hooted. “Four goddamn whole hero sandwiches. Jesus, that’s four goddamn whole loaves of bread you got there!”

Snowy finished off the first one and bit a huge chunk out of the second. “Sorry.”

“Hey, it’s nothing to be sorry about. I just never seen anybody eat like that. You gonna …?”

Snowy chewed three times, swallowed, then bit off another astonishing hunk, leaving only a lettuce-draped nub of bread.

“Jesus Christ, y’makin’ me sick.”

The kid heaved his own sandwich and soft drink out the window, not bothering to watch them splat against the asphalt of the parking lot. He lit up another skinny cigarette.

“Let’s boogie.”

Endless night, frigid night. But not cold enough for Snowy. The cab of the truck was a roaring furnace, and Snowy tried to persuade the kid to feather back the heater, to no avail. So he cranked down his window halfway, letting in a soothing, icy blast.

“Whaddayou, a goddamn Eskimo?” the kid demanded.

Snowy was getting annoyed, but thought better of giving the kid the head-whacking he deserved.

“Come on, close the goddamn window!” the kid screamed. “Waddayou, crazy or what?”

Snowy said mildly, “Buddy, where I come from, it’s not so wise to mouth off to a guy as big as me, especially for a little twerp as skinny —” Snowy blinked. “What’s wrong?”

“Jesus Christ.” The kid was staring tearfully at Snowy, mouth hanging open.

“What —?” Snowy halted a motion to scratch his head and realized what the kid was seeing. His hand had turned furry, the fingers tipped with milk-white claws. It was his normal hand. He felt his face. Sheila’s spell was fading.

The kid tore his eyes away to glance at the road, then looked back. “Hey …”

In the intervening instant, Snowy’s hand had turned human again, the fur and claws gone. His face felt smooth.

“What the hell’s going on?” the kid said. “Did you — did you just —?”

“What’s that you say?”

The kid focused his stare on the road, his face set grimly.

“Nothin’,” the kid said. “Forget it.” He opened his own window and threw out the butt of the joint he’d been sucking on. “Forget that shit, too.”

Great White Stuff, Snowy thought. This is going to be a long trip.