Chapter One
Annie parked the snowmobile
on what once was the throughway of her street, directly in front of their house. Her home was almost unrecognizable. In another week or so, she’d be able to climb on the second floor’s roof without much of a boost.
Only four months earlier, she'd been out at the
very same curb, gathering up leaves from the oak trees peppered about their property. It seemed like another lifetime, another world, another person. But hadn't she been just that-- another person? The woman that she was back then was dead and buried, presumably beneath a dwarfing drift of snow, somewhere near the bodies of her captors, somewhere near Tony's body.
She paused long enough to soak in the upper half of the house. The lower half was invisible now, awash in piling drifts. A steep incline led up to the second floor window, to their bedroom. That would be the best bet if she was even able to take those final steps.
Her energy was depleted to the point that her vision was wavering in and out. She'd once read about Mount Everest climbers, each claiming that the final steps to the summit were the most difficult, when it was easy to claim victory even though it hadn't been actually achieved. She felt the same on the occasions she went jogging around the neighborhood, cutting off the last few steps at her turnaround point, pronouncing to herself, "Close enough."
But this wasn't close enough.
Not until she had her baby in her arms again. In fact, she wanted both of her babies, if the older one would still have her. She felt she'd paid for her sins, tenfold, but that wouldn't mean much to Christian. He was better than that. And for that, she admired him. She didn’t deserve him.
Lifting her aching legs over the hull of the snowmobile, her body screamed for respite, to rest for only an hour if the world would allow it. The storm had eased off
during the last stretch but it was picking up momentum again. With every ebb, there were two bouts of flow, composed of snow, ice, wind, blustery madness. Such was this new world that they lived in.
Once she had her family by her side, how long would they survive?
A month? Two months? Maybe longer, if the temperature rose even ten degrees. Her mind drifted, though she just wanted to forge ahead:
How long did the original Ice Age last? A million years?
She wasn't sure, but it certainly wasn't a blink of the eye.
Every torment she'd endured sang inside of her bones as she trudged through the snow, her eyes fixated on the window to their bedroom. The climb was steep, but doable.
She dug her fingers deep into the frosted surface of the incline, feeling the horrid chill through the gloves. It felt more and more like the gloves held little consequence against the subzero temperatures. If she survived, they (whoever the hell
they
were) might have to amputate some of her fingers from the frostbite. It seemed dramatic to give in to such worries, but it was still a possibility. Anything was a possibility at this point.
Impossibilities
, in fact, were no longer impossible. And they never would be again.
Impossibilities were everywhere, living and breathing and reminding the world of their existence--l
ike when the window opened and an unexpected man hung his head out. His ruddy cheeks were covered with dark stubble and his mouth was held agape. It wasn't Christian--that was her first and most obvious instinct. It was a man she'd never seen before, and so her stomach sunk deep into her bowels.
"Well, well, well. Ain't this a blessin' from the Lord? Come on in here
and let me warm ya' up."
With the last bit of energy that remained, s
he reached out her hand.
Chapter
Two
She had a hard time understanding what the man was saying. It sounded like he was speaking from underwater. A brash ring still hummed out in her ears, driving her brain into a frenzy. This, added to the sheer exhaustion, made this all seem like some kind of odd dream. For a moment, she considered the fact that she had passed out beside her snowmobile and that she was just imagining that she was at home. A bit of wishful thinking could go a long way inside the world of dreams.
It wasn’t possible though. This was her kitchen that she was standing in. The man was sitting across from her, on a stool, chewing on some beefy looking hunk of meat from their food stash. Had Christian given him the food? He chewed it in such an obnoxious way that she knew that wasn’t true. He’d gone down into the basement and retrieved it himself, without even asking.
“You must be hungry,” he said, in that swimmy, distant voice that seemed to bounce off of every inch of her eardrum, confused as to how it was supposed to be interpreted. She hoped her hearing would return to her, and soon. It was frustrating, even more frustrating than finding an intruder in one’s house.
He introduced himself as Edgar
, but she didn't feel any requirement to tell him her name. It seemed likely that the ruddy-faced man (with the vapid eyes that reminded her of a baby doll’s) already knew her name. She didn't trust his face, right from the get-go. There wasn't anything outwardly alarming about the man, other than his unexpected presence. He presented himself with a warm smile and a calm tone. Polite, almost to a fault.
What bothered her was the manner in which he carried himself, as though he’d always lived here. As if he owned the place.
When she asked where Christian and Paulie were, "Paulie's downstairs, taking a nap. He'll be so dang happy to see you. Been talking about you all day. Misses ya’ lots."
Her heart leaped inside of her chest.
Paulie was okay.
"And Christian?"
The man carefully considered his words. His response was curiously slow. "He left for supplies just the other day. He's not back yet. Expectin’ him any time now, though."
She shook her head
, unable to hide her doubt from this man who called himself Edgar.
None of that
sounded right, completely unlike Christian. He wouldn’t have been so irresponsible, no matter how dire the circumstance. To leave Paulie behind with a total stranger… no, she would not accept that. It was an outright lie. "I’m sorry, but that doesn't sound like him at all," she said now, suddenly aware of how ridiculous she must have looked to this man. Her face was coated in streaks of blood, from her run-in with the merry band of rapist vagrants, and her clothes were torn to shreds. Her three layers of pants were frozen solid, clinging to her body, and her face must have looked like a bright pink pimple from the icy cold she'd endured.
"He said he'd be back in less than an hour, so I didn't think it was a big deal."
Annie refused to believe this. "And so, he just left
my kid
with you?"
"I reckon." He grinned now, with something just short of amusement.
"You reckon. I see. And how long have you been here? In my house?" she asked. His face transformed, looking quite hurt by the insinuation in her tone and the cold stare that she couldn't keep at bay. She’d been through enough bullshit the past few days and she wasn’t ready to listen to any more of it. She’d dealt with a pack of two-legged wild animals, so Edgar was nothing in comparison.
He cleared his throat, staring at the fog that came out of his mouth as he breathed.
“Only been here a few days. Came in from the road cause your husband is a kind fella.” He paused, taking a tug from a bottle he retrieved from the countertop. That liquor belonged to her husband. “Listen up, sweetheart...”
"
Don't call me sweetheart,
" she shot back, wondering who this person was, contemplating whether she would ever trust another adult male again, after the hell they'd put her through at The Purple Cat. Maybe--just maybe--Edgar was a completely harmless person, just trying to survive like everybody else. Maybe she was just being a royal bitch to him. It wouldn’t have been the first time in her life.
"Sorry, ma'am."
"Where did you come from?"
"Here and there," he said, snickering as he spoke.
She inched a bit closer to him, touching at the gun tucked into her pants. The look of the thing would be enough to send him scampering off into the subzero evening air. She had one bullet left, judging by her count. Two were used on The Chuckle Machine, two were used on Shiny and Yeti, and then the accidental kill shot on Shiny. That left one bullet. And if she needed to use it, she wouldn’t think twice. The Annie that would have hesitated was gone now. Gone forever.
"You seem a little upset, ma'am. Are you okay? You look like you
’ve been through hell and back, if ya’ don’t mind my saying."
She nodded. "I have
been. And I survived, but that’s beside the point,
Edgar
. I want to know where you came from, and why you're in my house, and when you're leaving. I suggest you say something along the lines of:
as soon as possible.
"
"Hold up there
," he said, putting up the palm of his left hand towards her in the universal gesture to back up a step. "I don't mean no harm here, Annie."
"My name is Anabel. You don't know me well enough to call me Annie."
"Fair enough, but I intend to get knowin’ on you better. I intend a whole lot of that," he replied. Annie could see that he was tightening his jaw. He was holding back an abnormal instinct; one that he knew would scare the shit out of her if he let it loose. She'd witnessed that same look in The Shiny Bald One's eyes when he first saw her and Tony (half naked, trying to hide their shame) but he had quickly let that facade crumble. Edgar was doing a better job of it, keeping the glue of his mask intact, but the results would end up the same. Something inside Annie’s gut screamed to every inch of her body, telling her that she was in danger. And even worse than that, Paulie was in danger.
"I'd like you to leave. Christian may have invited you in, but I'm vetoing that decision." The confused expression on his face made Annie wonder if he knew what the word veto meant. "
I won’t ask again."
"I don't think you understand, Annie." His eyes got big
and wide when he said her name, which she'd corrected him on only a few seconds earlier. He didn’t heed her advice as she’d hoped, not in any way. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm settled in and settled up. Ever heard that term? People in my family used to say it. I got a new family now, though. So this family gonna say that shit too, ya’ hear? We're gon’ be a happy little family, you and me. Gonna make some memories. Some real nice ones like Disney Land and shit."
And there it was.
He was as crazy as a bed bug. This stranger considered her his new "family" though they'd met only minutes earlier. So continued the long line of cuckoo birds, coming at her from every direction.
"If you hurt my son," she started to say, pursing her lips and touching the revolver. She unconsciously pulled it out, holding it in Edgar's direction.
“Get the fuck out of my house. I don't care where you go, but you can't stay here.”
Her head felt like a block on her shoulders. Her exhaustion was overtaking her. Annie’s equilibrium was all over the place from the loss of hearing in her ear. She couldn’t keep the gun steady because of this. With every bit of
strength, she fought against the wobbliness in her hands, fearful that it might neuter the threatening gesture.
She said, “Take the snowmobile if you want, I left the keys. I don't need it anymore."
His silence pervaded the room. The invader only smiled, his lips pulling back in a disgusting manner that looked like a lizard. He advanced a step closer to Annie, staring at the gun in her hand. It was evident that it wasn't the first time the man had a gun pointed at him; most people would have flinched at the sight of it, but he acted as though it was par for the course. Edgar was what her deceased grandfather might have called, "a natural born rough rider."
"Get out," she said, holding the gun firm now, trying to hide th
at unending shakiness in her hands. Even with all that she'd gone through with the other whackos, she still didn't feel right taking somebody's life.
Count to three
, she told herself.
If he hasn't left by three, shoot him in the face. Don't even tell him you're counting, cause that’ll make him move first.
One...
"I said get out!" she shouted. Edgar started to laugh at this, followed by a throaty cough.
Two...
She thought of Paulie. It always came back to Paulie—every thought, every word, every breath. Edgar had said that he was in the basement, sleeping. But what if he was dead? What if she went down those stairs and found that her baby was no more? The thought revolted her so she pushed it away. This wasn’t the time for that consideration. Not yet. "Last chance," she warned, trying to sound a whole lot tougher than she felt.
Three...
The gun clicked. The sound deflated her entire being, almost instantly. She pulled the trigger a second time. It was out of bullets or jammed. Either way, she was in trouble. Had she miscounted her bullets? When she collapsed earlier, had another round gone off? Had two bullets struck The Shiny Bald One instead of just the one? This is the part where you throw the gun at somebody, Annie thought to herself. If there were no bullets, then the next best thing was to hurl the weapon.
When she threw it, the revolver missed his head by a good foot.
This made the devilish stranger smile.
Edgar lunged toward her, grabbing her by the
meat of the throat. Stars filled her eyes within seconds, swimming around her already disconnected consciousness. He shook her so hard that Annie felt her bones rattling inside of her. Her ears started to ring louder than ever, presumably from the panic that was invading her being. A thought came to her that this might be the last moment she ever remembered, but her whole damn life refused to flash in front of her eyes like it was supposed to, according to the saying.
Annie dug her claws into Edgar's wrists, pushing her fingernails until she felt them starting to break, but Edgar didn't hold back on his assault. In fact, her defense maneuver only made him
fortify his grip, tightening up enough to make his hands go pale and white.
"
Pull a gun on me like some kinda animal? Fuckin’ cunt. Tryin’ t'make a better life for us here," he snarled, spittle falling from his lips. If he wasn't choking her to death and tossing her about the kitchen like a rag doll, she might have laughed at that notion. His corny sentiment was laughable, as compared to his violent outburst. "The boy wants me for his pop, ya’ hear? And if you don't want to be part of the family, well... fuck ya’."
His voice trailed off inside her head, just
as the starry shapes in her eyes got so big that they might have been blazing suns, right on the brink of supernovas.
* * *
She shook loose of her unexpected blackout, reaching up to touch her throat. It felt like her windpipe had been crushed, so she tested her voice with a cuss word, "Fuck." It didn't quite sound like her, but she could still speak. Her voice was gone, just as the hearing in her left ear.
The sound of a hammer
thudding against nails echoed through the pitch-black room.
Sitting up
with a jolt, she realized that she was at the bottom of the stairs, and that her arms and legs screamed in pain. The monster (the
newest
monster, she corrected herself) had tossed her down the stairs, and now he was barricading her in.
She scrambled to get herself up off the ground, rolling over on to her side as she reached for the lowest steps.
She wasn't going to let this invader lock her away in the basement, like some deformed sibling from a gothic horror novel.
“Hey!” she
shouted, her voice barely above a whisper. He’d screwed her throat up pretty bad with his meaty paws.
Then
she heard the voice--a sound so sweet that it made her heart rate double and then triple. She could hardly remember what happened next, both from escaping her woozy prison of stars and being without sleep since her brutal attack in The Purple Cat.
"Mammah?" the voice asked weakly, barely
audible in the mush of her ear canal.
"Baby," she said, nearly bursting into tears. Forgetting all about the maniac boarding up the basement door, Annie walked towards a tiny
night light, shining near the futon-bed at the other side of the basement.
She moved tow
ards the light, feeling as if invisible hands were transporting her.
When she got close enough to Paulie, she could see his face, barely illuminated by the
dull night-light. She curled her arms around him, nuzzling her face into his tiny shoulder, and she started to weep. It felt good to weep like this. Paulie did the same, but he was so feeble that it came out like little whines.