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?”