Snow(18)

“Wrong,” Kate finished. “The whole place feels wrong. Like there’s a giant electric cable running under the earth, and we’re all just vibrating up here on the surface.”

Todd looked around. He didn’t like the empty shop windows any more than he liked the dark houses along the outer street. The cars were worse—parked at crazy angles indiscriminately around the square, they conveyed a sense of panic and hasty evacuation. He remembered reading a book about Chernobyl a few years ago, and how thousands of people had abandoned their cars and their homes and had taken to the highway just to get the hell out of town. Yet if these people hadn’t taken their cars, how had they evacuated? Surely not by foot—not in this weather.

“Okay,” Todd said finally, scooping up his duffel bag and slinging it back over one shoulder, “I’ve got an idea. I’m going to try to find a telephone. In the meantime, you guys check these cars, see if anyone left the keys inside.”

“Forget the phone,” Kate said. “Let’s just take a car and go.”

“If none of these cars start, you’ll be happy I found a phone.”

Fred nodded. “All right. Just be careful, Todd.”

Todd nodded. He bent down and tucked his pant legs into his boots. He was bleeding through his jeans and his leg was throbbing but they didn’t have the time to spare. He’d worry about his leg later.

“I’m coming with you,” Kate said, putting a hand on Todd’s shoulder.

“No. Help Fred and Nan look for cars.”

“They don’t need my help. And none of us should be running off alone.” Then she offered him a crooked smile. Suddenly she was more than just pretty—she was beautiful. Vaguely, Todd wondered if good old Gerald was worried about her. “Besides,” she added, “I’ve got the flashlight, remember?”

Returning her smile, Todd nodded. “All right. Let’s go.”

They started by peering in the window of an old hardware store. The door was locked and Todd felt uncomfortable smashing the glass. “Let’s go around until we find a shop that’s unlocked.”

“What if none of them are unlocked?”

“Then we break in. But I’m not too keen on making any unnecessary noise around here.”

“In other words, you don’t want to bring attention to us,” Kate said, the underlying message being that Todd believed there were still people around someplace. Hiding.

They crunched along the icy sidewalk, stopping at each door—a bookstore, a Laundromat, a flower shop—and tugging on the door handles. Each one was locked up tight against the dark and the cold. If the townspeople had evacuated in such a hurry, it seemed odd they’d take the time to lock up all the doors.

“You were going to tell me something about that little girl,” Kate said behind him as he peered into the smoked glass of the flower shop. Just hearing Kate mention the little girl caused the hairs to stand at attention along the nape of his neck. “Something about her face. What was it?”

“Forget it.” He turned away from the window and walked over to a convenience store. “I was just seeing things. My mind playing tricks on me.”

“You can’t even convince yourself that, let alone me. Tell me.”

He sighed. “It was…”

“What?”

But he’d caught movement inside the convenience store. “Quick, give me the flashlight.”


“Anything?” Nan called from the curb.

Fred felt around the steering column of an old Buick. There were no keys in the ignition. “Nothing,” he called back. Then, under his breath, he uttered, “Damn it to hell.” He checked the visor, under the floor mats, in the glove compartment: nothing.

He climbed out of the car and ambled over to an old Volkswagen Beetle. The driver’s side door stood open but the interior lights were off. A dusting of snow had fallen across the windshield. On his way, he summoned a warm smile for Nan. Over the years, Fred Wilkinson had become quite adept at masking his fears for Nan’s benefit. It was ingrained in him, just as it had been ingrained in Fred’s old man. Those first eighteen months when they’d moved to Atlanta and the veterinary practice seemed on the brink of failure, he’d kept a smile on his face despite the hardship. Similarly, when he’d come down with cancer five years ago, Nan would have beat him to the grave with her worrying, had he not been the poster child for optimism. He’d beaten the cancer and proved to Nan that positive energy could be just as effective as traditional medicine; even though he’d been scared shitless, Nan had never known. It was just how he was built, with those easy grins and strong embracing arms coming as naturally to him as breathing.

He leaned down and peered into the Volkswagen and immediately fought off a wave of nausea.

“Fred?” Nan called from the curb as he staggered a few steps back from the car, a hand over his mouth and nose. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

He waved a hand at her. “Stay there, hon.”

Taking a deep breath, he approached the car once again, bending down and peering inside. The driver’s seat was saturated with blood, the surface of which sparkled with ice crystals. A single sneaker was wedged beneath the accelerator, and it appeared to be filled with ink. The cold kept much of the smell at bay, although it was impossible not to catch a whiff of the underlying decay that hummed like a cloud of flies inside the car.