Snow(52)

Nothing.

Todd and Kate exchanged a look. “I told you so,” she said.

He popped the hood and climbed out. Examining the engine, he couldn’t find anything obviously wrong with the car.

“Do you even know what you’re looking for?” she asked him, peering into the engine block, too.

“Just the usual stuff,” he said, “but I’m not an auto mechanic.”

“Wonderful. Now what?”

He chewed his lower lip. “I hate to keep pressing our luck, but I think we hit the house next door and try it all over again.”

The house next door was in worse shape. For starters, the doors were locked and they had to break a window and shimmy through it. Inside, the furniture had been toppled over and there were broken dishes on the kitchen floor. The television set in the living room was busted and the whole house smelled like it had been fried in the electric chair. In the laundry room, something that had once been a small dog or cat had been turned inside out and resembled something one might find in a Dumpster behind a slaughterhouse.

“I don’t like this place,” Kate said for the record.

“Duly noted.”

There was a set of keys hanging from a pegboard beside the pantry. BLESS THIS HAPPY HOME was painted on the pegboard in bright blue letters. Kate and Todd went quickly to the garage and found a Toyota Corolla, freshly detailed.

“Let’s try this again,” he said, tossing Kate the keys and going to the garage door. He undid the latch on the door as Kate slid into the car. This time, Todd could hear her twisting the keys. But the car would not roll over.

After several more tries, Kate got out of the car and stood there in the half light as if she were about to scream. Todd went to her and hugged her. It was a warm and lengthy hug. She smelled like Brianna’s pillows did in the morning after she’d gotten up out of bed. It made his head dizzy and his heart hurt.

“I’m starting to think…” he said after a moment.

“No,” she said. “Please don’t say it. Something is preventing us from starting these cars. Just like it cut the power and killed the phones.”

“I think so.”

“Todd,” she said, and moved in as if to hug him again. He brought her closer…then felt a rush as her lips touched his. She tasted like sea salt and felt very warm despite the cold all around them. If he could, he would have stretched this moment in time out to infinity.

A mechanical tone sounded from his pants pocket just as Kate pressed her thigh against his. She flinched at the sound, startled. “What was that?” she breathed directly in his face.

“Looks like you’ve activated my cell.” He fished his cell phone out of his pocket and ran his fingers along the keypad to activate it.

“Please tell me that’s an incoming call,” Kate said. Her hands slid slowly down the lengths of Todd’s arms until they were no longer touching.

“No such luck. You just leaned against the keypad. Still no signal.”

Then a notion seemed to strike them both simultaneously. In the dark cave of some stranger’s garage, they glanced briefly at each other, their faces illuminated by the cold glow of Todd’s cell phone.

“Other cell phones,” Kate said.

“Might get different reception,” Todd added.

“Might have closer towers,” Kate finished. It was like an epiphany.

“There must be some around the house,” Todd said as they stormed back into the kitchen. “Lying around on tables, on phone chargers, maybe upstairs in one of the bedrooms—”

Kate rushed over to the kitchen counter where a small flip phone sat in plain view. She flipped it open and beamed. “Battery works!”

Todd rushed to her side just as her face fell. “What is it?” he asked.

Kate held out the phone so that he could examine the display screen. “Look at the numerals. Look at the time.”

“I…” But then he saw it. When he looked back up at her, she had the face of a frightened child.

“How’s that possible?” she said.

According to the cell phone, the time was currently F9:KA.

He took the phone from her and scrolled through the electronic phonebook. “Jesus Christ, will you look at this…”

The first entry was nothing but gibberish:





SH%AMSA <, TWSWSV 102873460128374610973917



“It’s like the goddamn thing got scrambled,” he said, flipping through more names. Each one was in some similar form of hieroglyphics. “Let me see your phone.”

“I don’t have it. It’s still in my coat, back at the Pack-N-Go.”

Todd looked around. He began going systematically through the kitchen drawers until he located a ruby red cell phone with unicorn stickers on the casing. He powered it on and the screen blinked with the following cryptic missive: DWELLDWELLDWELLDWELLDWELLDWELL. Todd scrolled through the rest of the phone, each of the alphanumeric entries comprised of similar nonsense. Frustrated, he tossed the cell phone back in the drawer.

“Our situation just got worse, didn’t it?” Kate said. “None of the cars in this town will start, will they? All the electrical shit is out and all the battery-powered things have gone to shit. Everything’s either dead or scrambled.”