Snow

  “To have what?”

  “You saw that man, Todd. I don’t know what to call it, do you?”

  “It reminded me of those fucked-up zombie movies I used to love when I was a kid.”

  “Yeah,” Fred said, chuckling. He spat another gob into the Pepsi bottle. In his lap, the steel of the rifle gleamed a ghostly blue. “Maybe something got in the town’s water supply, made ’em all a little bonkers. Some chemical spill or something.”

  “What sort of chemical would do that?”

  “I haven’t the slightest idea.”

  Todd sighed and rubbed his face. “So what do we do now?” he said after a few moments of listening to the women breathe.

  “We need to get out of here.” Fred jerked his chin toward the window. “I’ve been thinking. All the cars we tried in the street have either died or the keys are nowhere to be found. But those houses we passed along the street to get here? They had garages. There’re probably cars in there, full of gas, and keys hanging from a peg on the wall or something. That’s our way out.”

  Todd felt himself nodding in agreement…although the thought of entering one of those dark, soulless houses did not appeal to him.

  Fred went on, “I think that if—”

  “What?”

  Fred was staring out the window. One hand gripped the rifle stock tighter.

  Todd turned and looked out the window, too. There was movement halfway across the town square, a shadow hustling among the fires that still burned in the oil barrels. More shadows. A woman emerged from behind the pedestal of the bronze statue, completely naked except for a pair of rubber boots, her hair hanging like a frozen wet mop over her face, the points of her pelvic bones jutting like bullhorns. She staggered through the snow, seeming to sniff at the air, and finally dropped down on all fours when she reached the bloodied slick of entrails that had been sprayed across the snow on the far side of the statue. As Todd and Fred watched, the woman began stuffing bits of flesh into her mouth.

  “We’re not seeing this,” Todd whispered. “Tell me we’re not seeing this.”

  “Look at her back. What is that?”

  Todd looked. He could make out twin slashes in the woman’s flesh, cut diagonally at each shoulder blade. It was as if she were an angel whose wings had been shorn off. Instantly, Todd thought of the slits in Eddie Clement’s flannel jacket.

  Fred murmured, “Now what do you suppose that is?”

  “Shawna said something about…about those things cutting into people’s shoulders, wearing them like puppets.” His face was so close to the window now, he was fogging up the glass. “Remember?”

  Across the square, a second figure emerged. This one was male, dressed in a bathrobe that hung open. He walked with the lumbering gait of a crippled deer. When he bent down to join the woman eating entrails from the snow, Todd could make out similar cuts along the back of the man’s bathrobe, just like those that had been on the back of Eddie Clement’s jacket.

  “We can’t go out there,” Todd said.

  “They’re just people.”

  “No, they’re not. Look at them. How can you say that?”

  “What I meant is they can die just like people. That kid sleeping back there took that guy’s head off and he dropped to the street like a wet sack of laundry.”

  “But then that thing came out of him,” Todd said. “Who knows what that thing can do?”

  As if the two people out in the street could read their thoughts, they perked up and sniffed at the air again. Moving much more swiftly this time, they scrambled to their feet and darted directly toward the convenience store at a steady run.

  “Oh, shit,” Fred groaned, sliding down against the wall while fumbling with the rifle in his lap. “Get down.”

  But Todd was already down, just barely peering over the window’s ledge to watch the two figures charge at them from across the street.

  But they were not heading for the convenience store. They stopped when they approached the headless corpse in the street. The woman dropped again to her knees and began to feed. The man in the bathrobe remained standing, swaying now in the frigid night air, the strong wind bullying his hair. He began to shudder, his head lolling back on his neck. Pasty white foam began frothing from the man’s lips.

  “What the hell’s going on, Fred?” Todd whispered, just as Kate, wide-eyed, sat up beside him. He grabbed her and pulled her down out of sight, pressing her face very close to his.

  “Oh my God,” he heard her mutter.

  The man in the bathrobe began vibrating like a tuning fork. At his feet, the nude woman continued to devour the headless corpse, hardly aware of what was happening to her companion.

  Kate squealed and Todd quickly clapped a hand over her mouth. Their commingling exhalations were fogging up the glass to the point where it was becoming harder to see out.

  Then, instantly, the man in the bathrobe simply caved inward, as if he were a piece of paper someone had folded down the middle. A gout of blood arched up out of his mouth just as his body, like a used husk, sagged to the snow. What remained where he stood was a partially translucent visage that, for a split second, appeared almost human. Todd could make out the suggestion of a head and limbs branching from a central torso, and there was something hideous and depraved in that resemblance. Then its arms raised and Todd suddenly knew Shawna Dupree had been exactly right in her estimation: the thing’s arms were twin scythes, like curved blades that ended in needle-sharp points of glittering light. The bladed arms reared up in a bizarre mockery of the bronze horse at the center of the square. Then the creature vanished into a whirlwind of giant snowflakes. The whirlwind twisted and floated, practically breathed, then dispersed into the night until no semblance of it was left behind.

  Kate was spilling silent tears over Todd’s hand, which he still held tightly to her mouth.

  The nude female stood, moon-shimmering gore spilling down her body, and took off into the shadows. She just barely left footprints behind in the snow.

  It took several drawn-out seconds for the world to come crashing back down around them. In that time, no one spoke, no one moved. When Todd finally pried his hand away from Kate’s mouth, the imprint of her teeth was impressed upon his palm.

  “I’m going to throw up,” she croaked, and quickly got up and rushed to the bathroom. The noise caused Nan to jar awake. She groaned and swatted feebly at the air until Fred slid over and soothed her.

  Todd couldn’t pull his eyes away from the square. It seemed no matter where he looked he could see the velvet twist of shapes moving through the shadows. How many of those things were out there? Every floating ember of snow caused his stomach to clench. Was it really snow or was it something else?

  “Did you see?” It was Shawna, her voice like that of a ghost speaking through the darkness. Todd turned to find her sitting upright, the towels and aprons draped about her like a homeless person. Her hair was askew and her eyes were as wide as hubcaps. “What did I tell you? Did you see them?”

  “How many are there?” Todd asked.

  Shawna just shook her head.

  “The rest of the town,” Fred said. He was squeezing Nan to his side while she peered worriedly out the windows at the darkness. She was lucky to have just missed the display. “Is everyone else dead?”

  “I don’t know. Someone was ringing the church bells earlier today but I haven’t heard them since. And I haven’t seen anyone else on the street…except for those…things.”

  “There could be more people,” Todd said. He was aware of how ridiculously hopeful he sounded. “They could be hiding out just like us.”

  “I still think our best bet is to get a car and get the hell out of here,” said Fred.

  Todd chewed on his lower lip. Peering through the window, he again surveyed the square. “It’s a long walk back to those houses.”

  “I know.” Fred pointed to the wall at Todd’s back. “But it’s a quicker walk right next door.”

  “What’
s next door?” Todd asked.

  “A gun shop.” It was Shawna who answered.

  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 be
d, 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.”