Ice Cold (10 page)

“And we can save it! But I need your help. Maura, I can’t do it without you.”

“Dad?” Grace was standing in the kitchen doorway. “He doesn’t look so good.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not talking anymore. And he’s snoring really loud.”

Doug nodded. “The drugs must have kicked in. Let’s get some instruments boiling. And we’ll need needles. A spool of thread.” He looked at Maura. “Are you with me or not?”

It doesn’t matter what I say, she thought. He’s going to do it anyway.

“I’ll see what I can find,” she said.

I
T TOOK THEM
an hour to collect and sterilize all the items they’d managed to scavenge. By then, the window admitted only a weak afternoon glow. They lit the kerosene lamp, and by the light of the hissing flame, Arlo’s eyes were sunken in shadow, as though his soft tissues were collapsing, his body consuming itself. Doug peeled back the blanket, releasing the sharp smell of the urine-saturated rug.

The leg was as pale as a shank of cold meat.

No amount of scrubbing could cleanse all the bacteria from their hands, but Doug and Maura tried anyway, lathering and rinsing until their skin was raw. Only then did Doug reach for the blade. It was a paring knife, the most delicate one they could find, and they had sharpened it before sterilizing. As he knelt over the leg, the first hint of uncertainty flickered in his eyes. He glanced up at Maura.

“Ready to release the tourniquet?” he said.

“You haven’t tied off the artery yet,” said Elaine.

“We need to identify which artery it is. And the only way is to see where he’s bleeding. You need to hold him still, Elaine. Because he’s going to wake up.” He glanced at Maura and nodded.

She barely loosened the tourniquet and a spurt of blood exploded from the wound, splattering Doug’s cheek.

“It’s the anterior tibial,” said Doug. “I’m sure of it.”

“Tighten the belt!” Elaine said, panicking. “He’s bleeding too much!”

Maura refastened the tourniquet and looked at Doug. He took a breath and began to cut.

At the first slice of the knife, Arlo jolted awake with a scream.

“Hold him! Hold him still!” Doug yelled.

Arlo kept screaming, battling them away, the tendons on his neck so taut they looked ready to snap. Elaine wrestled his shoulders back to the floor, but she could not stop him from thrashing and kicking at his torturers. Maura tried to pin his thighs, but blood and sweat had made his bare skin slippery, so she threw her weight across his hips. Arlo’s scream rose to a shriek that penetrated straight to her bones, a shriek so piercing it felt as if the sound were coming from her own body, as if she were screaming as well. Doug said something, but she couldn’t hear him through that scream. Only when she glanced up did she see that he had set down the knife. He looked exhausted, his face gleaming with sweat even in that cold room.

“It’s done,” he said. Rocking back on his knees, he wiped his sleeve across his forehead. “I think I got it.”

Arlo gave an agonized sob. “Fuck you, Doug. Fuck all of you.”

“Arlo, we had to do it,” said Doug. “Maura, loosen that tourniquet. Let’s see if we got the bleeding controlled.”

Slowly Maura released the belt, half expecting to see another gush of blood. But there was no trickle, not even a slow ooze.

Doug touched Arlo’s foot. “The skin’s still cool. But I think it’s starting to pink up.”

She shook her head. “I don’t see any perfusion.”

“No, look. It’s definitely changing color.” He pressed his palm against the flesh. “I think it’s warming up.”

Maura frowned at skin that looked every bit as dead and pale as it had before, but she said nothing. It made no difference what she thought; Doug had convinced himself that the operation was a success, that they’d done exactly what they should have. That everything was going to be fine. In Doug’s world, everything always turned out fine. So be bold, jump out of planes, and let the universe take care of you.

At least the tourniquet was now off. At least he was no longer bleeding.

She rose to her feet, the sour stink of Arlo’s sweat on her clothes. Exhausted by his ordeal, Arlo was now quiet and drifting to sleep. Massaging her aching neck, she went to the window and stared out, relieved to turn her attention to something else, anything else but their patient. “It’s going to be dark in an hour,” she said. “We can’t get out of here now.”

“Not in the Jeep,” said Doug. “Not with that broken tire chain.” She could hear him rattling through all the pill bottles. “We have enough Percocet to keep him comfortable for at least another day. Plus Elaine says she has codeine in her purse, if I can just find it.”

Maura turned from the window. Everyone looked as drained as she felt. Elaine sat slumped against the couch. Doug was staring listlessly at the array of pill bottles. And Grace—Grace had long ago fled the room.

“He needs to get to a hospital,” said Maura.

“You said you’re expected back in Boston tonight,” said Elaine. “They’ll be searching.”

“The problem is, they won’t know where to look.”

“There was that old guy in the gas station. The one who sold you the newspaper. He’ll remember us. When he hears you’re missing, he’ll call the police. Eventually
someone’s
going to show up here.”

Maura looked down at Arlo, who had sunk back into unconsciousness.
But not soon enough for him
.

W
HAT DID YOU WANT TO SHOW ME?” ASKED
D
OUG
.

“Just come with me,” whispered Maura. Pausing at the door, she glanced back at the room, where the others had fallen asleep. Now was the time to slip away. She picked up the kerosene lamp and stepped outside, into the night.

A full moon had risen, and the sky was awash in stars. She did not need the lamp to see the way; the snow itself seemed to luminesce beneath their boots. The wind had died, and the only sound was their footsteps crunching through the icy glaze that coated the snow like meringue. She led the way up the row of silent houses.

“You want to give me a hint?” he asked.

“I didn’t want to talk about it in front of Grace. But I found something.”

“What?”

“It’s in this house.” She stopped before the porch and stared up at black windows that reflected no starlight, no moonlight, as if the darkness within could swallow up even the faintest glimmer of light. She walked up the steps and pushed open the door. The lamp cast a feeble pool of light around them as they crossed the living room. Beyond that pool, in the shadowy circumference, lurked the dark silhouettes of furniture and the reflected glint off the picture frame. The dark-haired man stared back from the portrait, his eyes almost alive in the shadows.

“That’s what I noticed first,” she said, pointing to the birdcage in the corner.

Doug moved closer and peered into the cage at the canary lying on the bottom. “Another dead pet.”

“Like the dog.”

“Who leaves a pet canary behind to starve?”

“This bird didn’t starve,” said Maura.

“What?”

“Look, there’s plenty of seed.” She brought the lamp up to the cage to show him that the feeder was filled with birdseed, and ice had frozen in the water dispenser. “The windows were left open in this house, too,” she said.

“It froze to death.”

“There’s more.” She moved up the hallway and pointed at the streak across the pine floorboards, as though someone had swiped a paintbrush. In the dim candlelight, the stain looked more black than brown.

Doug stared at the drag mark, and he didn’t try to explain it. He didn’t say anything at all. In silence he followed the smear as it grew broader, until it led him to the staircase. There he stopped, staring down at the dried pool of blood at his feet.

Maura raised the lamp and the light revealed dark spatters on the steps. “The splash marks start about halfway up,” she said. “Someone fell down those stairs, hitting the steps on the way down. And landed here.” She lowered the lamp, illuminating the dried pool at the bottom of the stairs. Something gleamed in that blood, a silvery thread that she had missed earlier that afternoon. She crouched down and saw that it was a long blond hair, partially trapped in dried blood.
A woman
. A woman who had lain here while her heart continued to pump, at least for a few minutes. Long enough for a lake of blood to pour from her body.

“An accident?” said Doug.

“Or a homicide.”

In the dim light, she saw his mouth twitch in a half smile. “That’s a medical examiner talking. What I see here isn’t necessarily a crime scene. Just blood.”

“A lot of it.”

“But no body. Nothing to tell us one way or another how it happened.”

“The missing body is what bothers me.”

“I’d be a lot more bothered if it was still here.”

“Where is it? Who took it?”

“The family? Maybe they brought her to the hospital. That would explain why the canary was forgotten.”

“They would
carry
an injured woman, Doug. They wouldn’t drag her across the floor like a carcass. But if they were trying to get rid of a body …”

His gaze followed the drag marks until they vanished into the shadows of the hallway. “They never came back to clean up the blood.”

“Maybe they were planning to,” she said. “Maybe they couldn’t get back into the valley.”

He looked at her. “The snowstorm kept them away.”

She nodded. The flame in the lamp shuddered, as though buffeted by a ghostly breath. “Arlo was right. Something terrible happened in this village, Doug. Something that left bloodstains and dead pets and empty houses.” She looked at the floor. “And evidence. Evidence that tells a story. We keep hoping that someone will come back here and find us.” She looked at him. “But what if they’re not here to save us?”

Doug gave himself a shake, as though trying to snap out of the dark spell she’d spun around him. “We’re talking about a whole community that’s missing, Maura,” he said. “Twelve houses, twelve families. If something happened to this many people, there’d be no way to hide it.”

“In this valley, you could. You could hide a lot of things.” She looked at the shadows surrounding them, thought of what might be hidden beyond the glow of the lantern, and drew her jacket tighter. “We can’t stay in this place.”

“You’re the one who thought we should wait to be rescued. You said it this morning.”

“Since this morning, things have gone from bad to worse.”

“I’m trying to get us out of here. I’m doing my best.”

“I didn’t say you weren’t.”

“But that’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it? That everything’s my fault. That’s what you’re all thinking.” He gave a loud sigh and turned. “I promise, I’ll find a way to get us out of here.”

“I’m not blaming you.”

He shook his head in the darkness. “You should.”

“Everything’s just gone wrong, things that no one could predict.”

“And now we’re trapped, and Arlo’s probably going to lose his leg. If not worse.” His back was still turned to her, as if he couldn’t bear to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry I ever talked you into this. It sure as hell isn’t the trip I was hoping for, not with you along. Especially not with you along.” He turned to look at her, and the lamplight deepened every hollow of his face. This wasn’t the same man whose eyes had twinkled at her in the restaurant, not the same man who’d spoken so breezily about trusting in the universe.

“I needed you today, Maura,” he said. “It may be selfish of me, but for my sake, and Arlo’s, I’m glad you’re here.”

She managed a smile. “I can’t say I share the sentiment.”

“No, I’m pretty sure you’d rather be just about anywhere else right now. Like on that plane headed for home.”

To Daniel
. By now her flight would have landed, and he’d know she wasn’t on it. Was he frantic? Or did he think this was her way of punishing him for all the heartache he’d caused her?
You know me better than that. If you love me, you’ll know I’m in trouble
.

They left the bloodstained hallway, walked back through the shadowy front room, and stepped outside, into a landscape lit by the moon and stars. They could see firelight glowing in the house where the others now slept.

“I’m tired of being in charge,” he said, gazing at that window. “Tired of always having to lead the way. But they expect it. When things don’t go right, Arlo whines about it, yet he never steps up to take the lead. He’d rather just stay on the sidelines and complain.”

“And Elaine?”

“You’ve seen how she is. It’s always:
You decide, Doug.”

“That’s because she’s in love with you.”

He shook his head. “I never saw it. We’ve been friends, that’s all.”

“It’s never been more than that?”

“Not on my part.”

“She feels differently. And Arlo knows it.”

“I never encouraged her, Maura. I’d never do that to him.” He turned to her, his features sharper, starker, in the lantern light. “You’re the one I wanted.” He reached out to touch her arm. It was no more than a brush of his glove across her sleeve, a silent invitation that told her the next move was hers.

She pulled away, pointedly moving out of his reach. “We should get back to Arlo.”

“Then there’s nothing between us, is there?”

“There never was.”

“Why did you accept my invitation? Why did you come with us?”

“You caught me at a moment in time, Doug. A moment when I needed to do something wild, something impulsive.” She blinked away tears that blurred the lantern light into a golden haze. “It was a mistake.”

“So it wasn’t about me at all.”

“It was about someone else.”

“The man you spoke of at dinner. The man you can’t have.”

“Yes.”

“That situation hasn’t changed, Maura.”

“But I have,” she said, and walked away.

When she stepped inside, she found that everyone was still asleep and the fire had calmed to glowing embers. She added a log and stood before the hearth as flames sprang to life, hissing and snapping. She heard Doug walk in behind her and close the door, and the sudden whoosh of fresh air made the flames shudder.

Arlo opened his eyes and whispered, “Water. Please, water.”

“Sure thing, buddy,” said Doug. He knelt down and held Arlo’s head as he pressed the cup to his lips. Arlo took greedy gulps, spilling half the water down his chin. Satisfied, he slumped back onto his pillow.

“What else can I get you? Are you hungry?” asked Doug.

“Cold. It’s so cold.”

Doug took a blanket from the couch and gently draped it over him. “We’ll build up that fire. You’ll feel better.”

“Been having dreams,” Arlo murmured. “Such weird dreams. All these people were in here, looking at me. Standing around, watching. Waiting for something.”

“Narcotics will give you bad dreams.”

“They’re not bad, really. Just strange. Maybe they’re angels. Angels in funny clothes, like the man in that picture.” He turned his sunken eyes to Maura, but he did not seem to be looking at her. He was focused past her shoulder, as if a presence lurked right behind her. “Or maybe they’re ghosts,” he whispered.

Who is he looking at?
She swung around and stared at empty air. Saw the portrait of the man with the coal-dark eyes staring back at her. The same portrait that hung in every house in Kingdom Come. His face glowed with reflected firelight, as though sacred flames burned within him.

“And he shall gather the righteous,”
Arlo said, quoting from the plaque on the portrait’s frame. “What if it’s true?”

“What’s true?” asked Doug.

“Maybe that’s where they all went. He gathered them up and led the way.”

“Out of the valley, you mean?”

“No. To heaven.”

Wood snapped in the hearth, startling as a gunshot. Maura thought of the cross-stitched sampler she had seen hanging in one of the bedrooms.
PREPARE FOR ETERNITY
.

“It’s strange, don’t you think?” said Arlo. “How none of the car radios work here. All we get is static. No stations at all. And we can’t get a cell phone signal. Nothing.”

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” said Doug. “And we’re in a valley. There’s no reception.”

“Are you sure that’s all it is?”

“What else would it be?”

“What if something really bad happened out in the world? Being stuck here, we wouldn’t hear about it.”

“Like what? A nuclear war?”

“Doug, no one’s come looking for us. Don’t you think that’s strange?”

“They haven’t noticed we’re missing yet.”

“Or maybe it’s because there’s no one left out there. They’re all gone.” Arlo’s sunken eyes slowly took in the room where shadows flickered. “I think I know who these people were, Doug. The people who lived here. I think I’m seeing their ghosts. They were waiting for the end of the world. For the Rapture. Maybe it came, and we just don’t know it yet.”

Doug laughed. “Trust me, Arlo. The Rapture is not what happened to these people.”

“Dad?” Grace asked softly from the corner. She sat up, pulling the blanket close around her. “What’s he talking about?”

“The pills are confusing him, that’s all.”

“What’s the Rapture?”

Doug and Maura looked at each other, and he sighed. “It’s just a superstition, honey. A crazy belief that the world as we know it is doomed to end with Armageddon. And when it does, God’s chosen people will be sucked straight up to heaven.”

“What happens to everyone else?”

“Everyone else is trapped on earth.”

“And slaughtered,” whispered Arlo. “All the sinners left behind will be slaughtered.”

“What?” Grace looked at her father with frightened eyes.

“Honey, it’s nonsense. Forget it.”

“But some people really believe it? They believe the end of the world is coming?”

“Some people also believe in alien abductions. Use your noggin, Grace! Do you really think people are going to be magically transported to heaven?”

The window rattled, as though something were clawing at the glass, trying to get in. A draft of air moaned down the chimney, scattering flames and sending a gust of smoke into the room.

Grace hugged her knees to her chest. Staring up at the wavering shadows, she whispered: “Then where did all these people go?”