Snow

CHAPTER NINE

In the tiny, foul-smelling bathroom, Kate clicked on the flashlight and nearly screamed at the cadaverous appearance of her reflection in the mirror. Sunken, hollow eyes, drawn features, skin the color of soured milk. She set the flashlight down and turned on the hot water. It felt good to run her hands under it—she could feel its warmth cascade all the way down to her toes.

The sparkle of her engagement ring caught her eye. She stared at it for a very long time. Trapped in a lousy Pack-N-Go, she wondered what Gerald would do. Gerald. There would never be a wedding. She’d known for quite some time now. They’d gotten engaged on a whim, two free spirits who felt empowered when they acted strictly on impulse. But in the intervening years, their impulses had mellowed. Before either of them knew what had happened, she was strutting around like some fool with a giant glittering chandelier on her ring finger. How unfair was it they both had to come to their senses so quickly? And now they were stagnant, trapped in some quasi-committed relationship that had become derailed somewhere along the line.

She loved him but she didn’t know him. They lived in different cities and had their own lives. Had he slept with other women? Probably. Very likely, in fact. Had she slept with other men since the engagement? In fact, there’d been two. There had been the college professor whom she’d actually dated for several months, amused at how her abruptness had enchanted him. He was clumsy in bed but sadly grateful, which had been his downfall in the end. And then there had been the funky frat boy from the university with whom she’d spent a glorious yet tumultuous week. He’d been virile and overzealous, and their lovemaking session had left her feeling like she’d been riding a horse over the Rocky Mountains.

Six months ago, during a camping trip to the Great Smoky Mountains and following a brief and unsatisfying stint of lovemaking in some seedy, out-of-the-way roadside motel, she’d rolled over in bed and stared for a long, long time at Gerald’s profile while he pretended to sleep.

—Is this ever gonna happen? she’d asked him, her voice cracking the silence of the motel room like the crack of a whip.

—What’s that? he’d said.

—This whole wedding thing.

He’d gone silent, though his breathing was like a large jungle cat’s. After a long while, he’d said, We’ve been over this, Kate. We’re just not in the right place.

—If you don’t want to marry me, she’d told him, just say so. I won’t be mad. I just need to know.

Gerald had rolled over, the pitiable little mattress groaning beneath his weight.

—I love you, she’d said…and it had been true enough at the time and on that night. But what had been even more truthful was her request of him: to just say so. If it was never going to happen, she needed to know. She couldn’t spend the rest of her life in pantomime, in this lovers’ limbo. Her only twinge of personal regret was that she hadn’t been strong enough to leave him that night.

Glancing back at her reflection, she laughed at herself nervously. What kind of wacko was she? Thinking about all the times she’d been unfaithful to Gerald while trapped in a convenience store in the middle of goddamn rural nowhere…

“You’re fucked in the head, lady,” she told herself before leaving.

“Do you think it’s safe to go out there, even if it’s just to go next door?” Todd asked. He was still peering out the windows, certain he was seeing the shadows across the square shifting around.

“We’d have to be quick,” said Fred. He was standing by the counter now, looking disappointedly at the one remaining box of ammo. “The door’s probably locked, too, so we’ll have to break in.”

“That’ll make noise,” Nan said. She was sitting on a stack of Coke cases, clutching her bottle of water in two hands. “Won’t those people come back?”

Against Todd’s suggestion, Fred had filled his wife in on what had happened while she slept. He’d left out the gory details, but the story was still enough to cause a permanent crease to form in the fleshy pocket between Nan’s eyes.

Hands on his hips, Todd turned away from the window and surveyed the store. “What if we waited till daylight?”

Fred shrugged. “What would daylight do except make us more visible?” He looked to Shawna. “Are they less active in daylight?”

“Ask Jared,” she said. “The guy you covered up in trash bags. I shot him three times in broad daylight. The sun didn’t seem to slow him any. They’re not fucking vampires.” Shawna glanced in Nan’s direction and, embarrassed at her language, muttered, “Sorry.”

“Fuck it,” said Nan.

“Fuck what?” Kate said, coming out of the bathroom.

“You feeling okay?” Todd said. She looked hungover and worn out, like someone who’d just come down from a bender.

“I’m fine.”

Fred shuffled over to Shawna. “How about you? How’s that leg?”

Shawna was propped up on the checkout counter, her left leg wrapped in bandages that had turned a bright red at the center. “Won’t be running any marathons for a while, but I guess I’ll live.” She laughed nervously. “Or not.”

“You know…” Todd began, taking a step back and examining the row of freezer doors against the wall.

“What is it?” Kate asked.

He began stacking cases of soda in front of the freezer doors. “I’m just wondering…” There was a ventilation grate above the freezers, large enough for a man to squeeze through. He stood on the soda cases and peered through the slats of the grate. Of course, all he saw was darkness.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Fred said. “You think it goes straight through to the other side?”

“I put myself through law school in two ways,” Todd said. “The honest way was working construction during the summers. Old buildings like these, right up against each other—they share all the ductwork for the heating and air conditioning. They’ll have their own controls and vent shafts, but the main ductwork should be the same.”

“So the plan is to crawl through the wall into the gun shop?” said Shawna.

“There’s a gun shop next door?” Kate said. “Did I miss something?”

“I think it’ll work.” Todd was beaming; he could feel the stupid grin on his face as he looked at all of them. “It’s worth a try, anyway.”

“You’re right,” Fred agreed. “I’ll go with you.”

Todd shook his head. “No. I can do it. Stay here with the girls.”

“Shit,” Kate said. “That sounds absolutely high class, Todd.”

“I don’t care. We’re not gonna squabble about women’s lib right now, Kate, okay?” He was already shucking off his coat and cuffing his sleeves. “I’m gonna need a screwdriver to get this grate off.”

“Check,” Nan said, hopping off the Coke cases and dodging down one of the aisles.

“I’ll go with you,” Kate said, pulling off her own coat now.

“Not a chance. I can do this.”

“What, do you think you’re suddenly on Survivor or something?” Kate said, pulling back her hair. “Didn’t we already have the ‘nobody goes off alone’ talk, buddy? Or do you need a refresher?”

“Here you go,” Nan said, handing Todd a screwdriver.

Todd climbed back up on the stack of soda cases and began unscrewing the ventilation grate.

“I can bitch and moan with the best of them,” Kate said, her arms now folded obstinately across her chest.

“Fine, fine. We’ll go together. Now grab something we can use as a weapon.”

With the vent cover off, the ventilation shaft looked smaller than Todd had originally thought. Standing on the cases of soda and peering into the opening, he could see that it cut sharply to the right. It would be a narrow squeeze. Although he wasn’t claustrophobic by nature, the idea of getting stuck in there suddenly terrified him.

He thought of Justin fast asleep in his race-car bed, the flannel blankets tucked securely under his chin. Glancing down at his watch, he saw that it was only ten minutes past midnight. With some uncertain emotions, he wondered if Brianna was still up waiting for him.

Kate and Nan returned with armfuls of supplies: plastic bags, rope, broom handles, two more flashlights, and a couple of long, serrated kitchen knives. Shawna hobbled over and handed Kate a pair of makeshift sheaths for the knives, made out of Bubble Wrap and electrical tape. “Stick ’em to your belt,” Shawna explained, “and those knives will slide in and out.”

“We’re like a couple of accidental warriors,” Kate replied, trying hard to sound upbeat.

“Use this so you won’t break your neck, Todd,” Fred said, carrying over a four-foot stepladder. “Those cases of Coke are starting to buckle.”

Todd nodded and clapped a hand on Fred’s shoulder. A brief father-and-son moment passed between the two men. Then they both became embarrassed and the moment was gone. Men are often their own worst enemies, Todd thought, setting up the stepladder beneath the ventilation opening.

“You sure you guys don’t want to take the rifle?” Fred asked.

“No. You hold on to it. We’re breaking into a gun store; we’ll have all we need right at our fingertips.”

“Just be careful, Todd.”

Again, Todd nodded.

“Look.” It was Nan, standing in the center of the store, looking out the plate-glass windows. Fresh snow was falling outside.

“I used to think that was so beautiful,” Shawna said. The saccharine tone of her voice sounded very unlike her. “But now I find myself distrusting it all.” She shot a worried look over at Todd. “That could be them. They’re the snow.”

Kate took a deep breath and moved one step closer to Todd. Instinct kicking in, Todd nearly reached out and took her hand, just barely catching himself at the last possible moment. Instead, he offered her a wan smile, which she returned with equal enthusiasm.

“Merry Christmas,” he said. “It’s after midnight.”

“It seems like we’ve been here a week already.”

“You ready to do this?”

“Yes.”

“All right. Let’s move.”