Ice Cold (8 page)

Two falls in one day. And the morning was still young.

Her head ached and her eyes felt scorched by the sunlight. She was hungry and queasy at the same time, the result of too much whiskey last night. The prospect of pork and beans for breakfast wasn’t making her feel any better. She struggled back to her feet and looked around for the log that she’d dropped. Kicking around in the snow, she bumped up against an obstruction. She dug in with gloved hands and felt a hard lump. Not the log, but something larger, something that was frozen to the ground. This was what she had caught her boot on.

She brushed away more snow and suddenly went still, staring down at what she’d uncovered. Repulsed, she backed away. Then turned and ran into the house.

T
HEY MUST HAVE LEFT HIM OUTSIDE, AND HE FROZE TO DEATH,” SAID
Elaine.

They stood in a solemn circle around the dead dog, like five mourners at a grave, buffeted by a wind with a bite as sharp as glass. Doug had used a shovel to widen the hole, and the dog now lay fully uncovered, its fur glistening with snow. A German shepherd.

“Who would leave a dog out in this weather?” said Arlo. “It’s cruel.”

Maura knelt down and pressed her gloved hand against the dog’s flank. The body was frozen solid, the flesh hard as stone. “I don’t see any injuries. And he’s not a stray,” she said. “He looks well fed, and he’s wearing a collar.” On the steel tag was engraved the unlikely name of
LUCKY.
“He’s obviously someone’s pet.”

“He might have just wandered out of the house and his owners couldn’t find him in time,” said Doug.

Grace looked up with stricken eyes. “And then they just left him here, all alone?”

“Maybe they had to leave in a hurry.”

“How can anyone do that? We’d never do that to a dog.”

“We don’t know what really happened here, honey.”

“You’re going to bury him, aren’t you?”

“Grace, he’s just a dog.”

“You can’t leave him out here.”

Doug sighed. “Okay, I’ll take care of it, I promise. Why don’t you go inside and keep that fire going. I’ll take care of everything.”

They waited until Grace had retreated into the house. Then Elaine said, “You aren’t really going to bother burying this dog, are you? The ground’s frozen solid.”

“You saw how freaked out she is.”

“She’s not the only one,” said Arlo.

“I’ll just cover it back up with snow. It’s so deep, she won’t know the dog’s still here.”

“Let’s all go back in the house,” said Elaine. “I’m freezing.”

“I don’t understand this,” said Maura, still crouched over the dead animal. “Dogs aren’t stupid, especially not German shepherds. He’s well nourished and he has a thick winter coat.” She rose to her feet and surveyed the landscape, her eyes narrowed against the glare of reflected sunlight. “This is the north-facing wall. Why would he end up dying right here?”

“As opposed to where?” said Elaine.

“Maura raises a good point,” said Doug.

“I’m not getting it,” Elaine said, clearly annoyed that no one was following her back into the house.

“Dogs have common sense,” he said. “They know enough to seek shelter from the cold. He could have dug himself into the snow. Or crawled under the porch. He could have found any number of places where he’d be better protected against the wind, but he didn’t.” He looked down at the dog. “Instead he ended up here. Fully exposed to the wind, as if he just keeled over and died.”

They were silent as a gust whipped their clothes and whistled between buildings, whirling white glitter. Maura stared at deep drifts rippling the landscape like giant white waves, and she wondered: What other surprises lie buried beneath the snow?

Doug turned to look at the other buildings. “Maybe we should take a look at what’s inside those other houses,” he said.

T
HE FOUR OF THEM
walked in single file toward the next house, Doug leading the way as he always did, breaking a path through deep snow. They mounted the front steps. Like the house they’d slept in the night before, this one had a porch with an identical swing.

“You think maybe they got a volume discount?” said Arlo.
“Buy eleven swings, we throw in the twelfth for free?”

Maura thought of the glassy-eyed woman in the family photo. Imagined a whole village of pale and silent women sitting in these swings, mechanically rocking back and forth like windup dolls. Clone houses, clone people.

“This door’s unlocked, too,” said Doug, and he pushed it open.

Just inside lay a toppled chair.

For a moment, they paused on the threshold, puzzling over that fallen chair. Doug picked it up and set it upright. “Well, that’s sort of weird.”

“Look,” said Arlo. He crossed toward the framed portrait hanging on the wall. “It’s the same guy.”

The morning light spilled down in a heavenly beam on the man’s upward-gazing face, as though God Himself approved of his piety. Studying the portrait, Maura saw other details she hadn’t noticed before. The backdrop of golden wheat behind him. The white peasant shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, as though he had been laboring in the fields. And his eyes, piercing and ebony black, staring into some distant eternity.

“And he shall gather the righteous,”
said Arlo, reading the plaque mounted on the frame. “I wonder who this guy is, anyway? And why does everyone seem to have his portrait hanging in their house?”

Maura spotted what looked like a Bible lying open on the coffee table. She flipped it closed and saw the title, embossed in gold on the leather cover.

Words of Our Prophet

The Wisdom of The Gathering

“I think this is some sort of religious community,” she said. “Maybe he’s their spiritual leader.”

“That would explain a few things,” said Doug. “The lack of electricity. The simplicity of their lifestyle.”

“The Amish in Wyoming?” said Arlo.

“A lot of people these days seem to crave a simpler life. And you could find that here, in this valley. Grow your own food, shut out the world. No TV, no temptations from the outside.”

Elaine laughed. “If showers and electric lights are works of the devil, then sign me up for hell.”

Doug turned. “Let’s see the rest of the house.”

They moved down the hall, into the kitchen, and found the same pine cabinets and wood-burning stove, the same hand pump for water that they’d seen in the first house. Here, too, the window was open, but a screen had kept out the snow, allowing in only the wind and a few sparkling motes. Elaine crossed the room to shut the window, and suddenly gasped.

“What?” Doug asked.

She backed away, pointing at the sink. “Something—there’s something dead in there!”

As Maura moved closer, she saw the butcher knife, its blade smeared with blood. In the sink were frozen splatters of more blood and mounds of gray fur. “They’re rabbits,” she said, and pointed to a bowl of peeled potatoes sitting nearby. “I think someone was about to cook them.”

Arlo laughed. “Good going, Salinger. Scare the bejesus out of us over someone’s dinner.”

“So what happened to the cook?” Elaine was still hanging back, as though the carcasses in the sink could reanimate into something dangerous. “She’s about to skin the rabbits and then what? She just walks away and leaves them here?” Elaine looked around at their faces. “Someone answer that. Give me one logical explanation.”

“Maybe she’s dead,” said a soft voice. “Maybe they’re all dead.”

They turned to see Grace standing in the doorway. They had not heard her come into the house. She stood hugging herself, shivering in the frigid kitchen.

“What if they’re all lying under the snow, like that dog? And we just can’t see them?”

“Grace, honey,” said Doug gently. “Go back to the other house.”

“I don’t want to be alone.”

“Elaine, can you walk her back?”

“What are you all going to do?” asked Elaine.

“Just
take
her, okay?” he snapped.

Elaine flinched at his tone. “All right, Doug,” she said tightly. “I’ll do whatever you say. Don’t I always?” She took Grace’s hand, and the two of them walked out of the kitchen.

Doug sighed. “Man, this keeps getting weirder.”

“What if Grace is right?” said Arlo.

“Not you, too.”

“Who knows what’s under all this snow? There could be bodies.”

“Shut up, Arlo.” Doug turned toward the garage door.

“Why does that seem to be everyone’s favorite phrase lately?
Shut up, Arlo
.”

“Let’s just look through the rest of these houses. See if there’s anything we can use. A radio, a generator.” He stepped into the garage and halted. “I think I just found our way out of here,” he said.

Inside was parked a Jeep Cherokee.

Doug ran to the driver’s door and yanked it open. “The keys are in the ignition!”

“Doug, look!” said Maura, pointing to a mound of metal links on one of the shelves. “I think those are tire chains!”

Doug gave a laugh of relief. “If we can get this baby up to the main road, we might be able to drive it all the way down the mountain.”

“Then why didn’t
they?”
said Arlo. He stood staring at the Jeep, as though it were something alien, something that did not belong there. “The people who lived here. The people who were about to cook those rabbits, why did they leave this nice truck behind?”

“They probably had another car.”

“It’s a one-car garage, Doug.”

“Then maybe they left with the people in the first house. There was no car in their garage.”

“You’re just guessing. It’s an abandoned house with a nice new SUV, dead rabbits in the sink, and no people. Where is everyone?”

“It doesn’t matter! What matters is that we’ve now got a way out of here. So let’s get to work. If we go through the other garages, we should be able to find shovels. And maybe bolt cutters, to get through that chain at the top of the road.” He went to the garage bay door and yanked up on the handle. The sudden glare of sunlight on snow made them all squint. “If you find anything you think we can use, just grab it. We’ll settle up with these people later.”

Arlo pulled his scarf tighter and waded across to the opposite house. Maura and Doug trudged to the house next door. Doug dug in the snow for the handle and yanked up the bay door. It squealed open and they both froze, staring into the garage.

A pickup truck was parked inside.

Maura turned and looked across the street, where Arlo had just opened another garage door. “Hey, there’s a car in here!” Arlo yelled.

“What the hell is going on?” murmured Doug. He ran through knee-deep drifts toward the next house and hauled open the garage door. Took one look at what was inside then plunged ahead, toward the next house.

“Car in this garage, too!” Arlo called out.

The wind screamed as though in pain, and a squall line raced toward them like white stallions kicking up snow. Maura blinked as the glittering cloud stung her face. Suddenly the wind fell still, leaving a strange, icy silence. She regarded the row of houses facing her, all their garage doors now gaping open.

There was a vehicle inside each one.

I
DON’T KNOW HOW TO EXPLAIN IT,” SAID DOUG AS HE SCOOPED UP A
shovelful of snow and flung it aside, clearing the space behind the Jeep so he could lay out the tire chains. “All I care about now is getting out of here.”

“Doesn’t it bother you just a little? That we don’t know what happened to these people?”

“Arlo, we have to
focus.”
Doug straightened, his face florid from exertion, and glanced up at the sky. “I want to be on that main road before it gets dark.”

They had all been shoveling, and now they paused to rest, their faces cloaked in the steam from their breath. Maura eyed the winding road out of the valley. There were deep drifts in their way, and even if they did make it up to where they’d abandoned the Suburban, they still had another thirty-mile drive down the mountain. Thirty miles during which they could get stranded again.

“We could also just stay right where we are,” said Maura.

“And wait around to be rescued?” Doug snorted. “That’s no way out. I refuse to sit back and be passive.”

“I’m supposed to fly back to Boston tonight. When I don’t show up, they’ll know something’s wrong. They’ll start searching for me.”

“You said no one knows you came with us.”

“The point is, they
will
be searching. We’ve got food and shelter right here. We can hold out as long as we need to. Why take the risk?”

His face flushed an even deeper shade of red. “Maura, it’s my fault that we got into this mess. Now I’m going to get us out. Just trust me.”

“I’m not saying I don’t trust you. I’m just pointing out the alternative to getting stuck on that road, where we may not find any shelter.”

“The alternative? That we sit here and wait for God knows how long?”

“At least we’re safe.”

“Are we?” It was Arlo who asked the question. “I mean, I’m just throwing this out there for you all to think about, since I’m the only one who seems to be bothered by it. But this place. This
place …
” He looked around at the deserted houses and shuddered. “Something bad happened here. Something that I’m not sure is over with. I vote for getting the hell out, as soon as we can.”

“So do I, Daddy,” said Grace.

“Elaine?” said Doug.

“Whatever you decide, Doug. I trust you.”

That’s how we got into this mess in the first place, thought Maura. We all trusted Doug. But she was the outsider, overruled four to one, and nothing she could say would change the balance. And perhaps they were right. There
was
something wrong about this place; she could feel it. Old echoes of evil that seemed to whisper in the wind.

Maura lifted her shovel again.

With all of them working together, it took only a few more minutes to clear enough space behind the Jeep. Doug dragged over the clanking tire chains and laid them out behind the rear wheels.

“Those look pretty banged up,” said Arlo, frowning at the rusted metal.

“This is all we’ve got,” said Doug.

“Some of those cross links are broken. Those chains may not make it.”

“They only have to hold out till we reach the gas station.” Doug climbed into the Jeep and turned the ignition. The engine started up at the first crank. “Okay, we’re good!” He grinned out the window. “Why don’t you ladies pack up some supplies? Whatever you think we might need on the road. Arlo and I will work on the chains.”

By the time Maura came out of the house with an armful of blankets, the chains were on, and Doug had the Jeep turned around and facing the road. Already it was past noon, and they scrambled to load in food and candles, shovels and the bolt cutter. When they finally all piled into the Jeep, they paused a moment in silence, as though simultaneously offering up prayers for success.

Doug took a breath and put the Jeep into gear. They began to roll, the chains clanking noisily against the chassis, and churned ahead through the snow.

“I think this is going to work,” murmured Doug. Maura heard a note of wonder in his voice, as if even he had doubted their chances. “God, I think this is actually going to
work!”

They left behind the houses and began to climb out of the valley, retracing the route that they had scrambled down on foot a day earlier. Fresh snow had covered their footprints, and they could not be certain where the edges of the road might be, but the Jeep kept barreling ahead, steadily ascending. From the backseat came Arlo’s soft chant, one word repeated over and over.

Go. Go. Go
.

Now Elaine and Grace joined in, their voices synchronized in time with the rhythm of the tire chains slapping the truck.

Go. Go. Go
.

The chant was mixed with laughter now as they climbed ever higher, almost to the halfway point out of the valley. The road grew steeper, curving in hairpin turns, and they heard snow scraping the undercarriage.

Go. Go. Go
.

Even Maura found herself murmuring the words now, not quite saying them aloud but thinking them. Daring to hope that yes, this was going to turn out fine. Yes, they would get out of this valley and roll down the main road, chains banging all the way, to Jackson. What a story they’d have to tell, just as Doug had promised them, a story that they could dine out on for years to come, about their adventure in a strange village called Kingdom Come.

Go. Go. Go …

Suddenly the Jeep lurched to a halt, snapping Maura forward against her seat belt. She glanced at Doug.

“Take it easy,” he said, and shifted into reverse. “We’ll just back up. Get a little running start.” He pressed the accelerator. The engine whined, but the Jeep didn’t budge.

“Is anyone getting a bad case of déjà vu?” said Arlo.

“Ah, but this time we have shovels!” Doug climbed out and looked at the front bumper. “We just hit a little deeper snow here. I think we can dig our way out of this drift. Come on, let’s do it.”

“I’m definitely feeling that déjà vu,” muttered Arlo as he climbed out and grabbed a shovel.

As they began to dig, Maura realized that their problem was worse than Doug had advertised. They had veered off the road, and neither of the rear tires was in contact with solid ground. They cleared the snow away from the front bumper, but even then the Jeep would not move, the front wheels spinning on icy pavement.

Doug climbed out of the driver’s seat again and stared in frustration at the suspended rear tires, girded in the rusting chains. “Maura, you take the wheel,” he said. “Arlo and I are going to push.”

“All the way back to Jackson?” said Arlo.

“You have a better idea?”

“If this is going to keep happening, we’re sure not going to make it by sundown.”

“So what do you want to do?”

“I’m just saying—”

“What, Arlo? You want us to go back to the house? Sit on our butts and wait for someone to rescue us?”

“Hey, man, take it easy.” Arlo gave a nervous laugh. “It’s not like I’m calling for a mutiny.”

“Maybe you should. Maybe you’d like to make the tough decisions, instead of always leaving it up to me to figure out everything.”

“I never asked you to take charge.”

“No, it happens by default. Funny how it always seems to work out this way. I make the hard choices and you stand back and tell me what I’m doing wrong.”

“Doug, come on.”

“Isn’t that how it usually goes?” Doug looked at Elaine. “Isn’t it?”

“Why are you asking her? You know what she’s going to say.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Elaine said.

“Whatever you say, Doug,”
Arlo mimicked.
“I’m with you, Doug.”

“Fuck you, Arlo,” she snapped.

“It’s Doug you’d rather be fucking!”

His outburst shocked them all into silence. They stared at one another as the wind swept the slope, pelleting their faces with blowing snow.

“I’ll steer,” Maura said quietly, and she climbed into the driver’s seat, glad to escape the battle. Whatever history these three friends had together, she was not a part of it. She was merely the accidental observer, witness to a psychodrama that had begun long before she joined them.

When Doug finally spoke, his voice was quiet and in control. “Arlo, let’s get behind this thing and push. Or we’ll never get out of here.”

The two men positioned themselves behind the Jeep, Arlo at the right rear bumper, Doug on the left. They were both grimly silent, as if Arlo’s outburst had never happened. But Maura had seen the effect on Elaine’s face, had watched it freeze in a mask of humiliation.

“Give it some juice, Maura,” Doug called out.

Maura put the Jeep into first gear and lightly pressed the accelerator. She heard the wheels whine, loose chain links clanging against the chassis. The Jeep inched forward, propelled by sheer muscle power as Doug and Arlo pitted their weight against the vehicle.

“Keep feeding it gas!” ordered Doug. “We’re moving.”

The Jeep rocked forward and rocked backward, gravity tugging it once again off the road’s edge.

“Don’t stop!” yelled Doug. “More gas!”

Maura caught a glimpse of Arlo’s face in her rearview mirror, bright red from exertion as he strained against the car.

She goosed the accelerator. Heard the engine roar, the chains banging faster against the wheel well. The Jeep gave a sharp jerk and suddenly there was a different sound. A dull thumping that she felt more than heard, as though the Jeep had hit a log.

Then came the shrieks.

“Stop the engine!” Elaine banged on her door. “Oh my God,
stop it!”

Maura instantly shut off the motor.

The shrieks were coming from Grace. Shrill, piercing wails that did not sound human. Maura turned to look at her, but didn’t see why the girl was screaming. Grace stood at the side of the road, hands pressed to the sides of her face. Her eyelids were clenched shut, as though desperately blocking out something terrible.

Maura shoved open her door and scrambled out of the Jeep. Blood was splattered across the whiteness of snow in shockingly bright red ribbons.

“Hold him still!” Doug yelled. “Elaine, you’ve got to keep him still!”

Grace’s shrieks faded to a choked sob.

Maura ran back to the rear of the Jeep, where the ground was awash in more blood, steaming on the churned-up snow. She could not see the source of it, because Doug and Elaine blocked her view as they knelt near the right rear tire. Only when she leaned over Doug’s shoulder did she see Arlo, lying on his back, his jacket and trousers saturated. Elaine was holding down Arlo’s shoulders as Doug applied pressure to the exposed groin. Maura caught sight of Arlo’s left leg—what remained of it—and she reeled backward, nauseated.

“I need a tourniquet!” yelled Doug, struggling to keep his blood-slicked palms positioned over the femoral artery.

Maura quickly unbuckled her belt and yanked it free. Dropping to her knees in the bloody snow, she felt icy slush soak into her pants. Despite Doug’s pressure on the artery, a steady stream of red was seeping into the snow. She slipped her belt under the thigh and blood smeared her jacket sleeve, a startling stripe across white nylon. As she looped the belt, she felt Arlo trembling, his body rapidly sinking into shock. She yanked the tourniquet tight, and the stream of blood slowed to a trickle. Only then, with the bleeding controlled, did Doug release his grip on the artery. He rocked back to stare at the torn flesh and protruding bone, at a limb so twisted that the foot jutted in one direction, the knee in another.

“Arlo?” Elaine said.
“Arlo?”
She shook him, but he had fallen limp and unresponsive.

Doug felt Arlo’s neck. “He’s got a pulse. And he’s breathing. I think he just fainted.”

“Oh my God.” Elaine rose and stumbled away. They could hear her throwing up in the snow.

Doug looked down at his hands, and with a shudder he scooped up snow and frantically scrubbed away the blood. “The tire chain,” he muttered, rubbing snow against his skin, as though he could somehow purify himself of the horror. “One of the broken links must have snagged his pants. Wrapped his leg around the axle …” Doug rolled back on his knees and released a breath that was half sigh, half sob. “We’ll never get this Jeep out of here. The chain’s broken all to hell.”

“Doug, we have to get him back to the house.”

“The house?” Doug looked at her. “What he needs is a fucking OR!”

“He can’t stay out here in the cold. He’s in shock.” She rose to her feet and glanced around. Grace was huddled off by herself, her back turned to them. Elaine was crouched in the snow, as though too dizzy to stand straight. Neither of them would be any help.

“I’ll be right back,” said Maura. “Stay with him.”

“Where are you going?”

“I saw a sled in one of the garages. We can drag him back on that.” She left them and started running toward the village, her boots slipping and sliding in the ruts left by the Jeep’s ascent. It was a relief to leave behind the bloody snow and her shell-shocked companions, a relief to focus on a concrete task that required only speed and muscle. She dreaded what came after they moved Arlo back into the house, when they’d be forced to confront what was left of his leg, now little more than mutilated flesh and splintered bones.