Snow by Ronald Malfi Page B

were no longer the dazzling green they’d been back at the airport bar; they now seemed drained of color and looked like steel divots.
    “Let’s keep moving,” Fred said, slinging an arm aroundNan’s narrow shoulders. He administered a kiss to the top of her head and, pressed together as if one, they proceeded down the center of the street toward the fires burning in the town square.
    “You’re scared,” Todd said, walking alongside Kate. She had not put her arm back around his waist. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
    “I’m not ashamed. And I’m not scared, either.”
    “Next thing you’ll tell me you’re not a liar.”
    She folded her arms across her chest but Todd could see the stirrings of a smile beneath the surface of her lips. “I can’t believe this is happening. This is supposed to be Christmas. Happiest goddamn time of the year.”
    “Do you have a cell phone? You should probably call your fiancé, let him know what’s going on.”
    “Yeah, thanks.” She fished around in her purse for her cell phone. When she finally located it, she tried turning it on, to no avail. “Shit. Battery’s dead.”
    Todd dug his own cell phone from his coat. “Here.”
    “Thanks.” She accepted the phone but didn’t use it right away. “That guy we picked up—did that really happen?”
    “Yes.”
    “And the little girl? I mean, what the hell was that all about?”
    “I don’t have a clue.”
    “Christ. I’m not scared,” she said again, “but I do feel like I’m losing my mind.”
    Todd smiled. “And that doesn’t scare you?”
    “I’m a tough gal,” she said, shrugging. Suddenly she looked very pretty. “It takes a lot to scare me.”
    Todd’s smile faltered. He was thinking of the little girl with no face.
    “Shit,” Kate said, looking at Todd’s cell phone. “Take one guess what will make this evening even better.”
    “No signal?”
    “No signal.”
    “Terrific.”
    She handed him back the phone. “Right at this very moment, my fiancé’s parents are probably catching him up to speed on all the medication they’ve been on for the past year, and how my soon-to-be father-in-law has been wearing the same pair of socks all week to cut down on laundry. Miserable lot.”
    “When’s the wedding?”
    “We haven’t set a date yet.”
    “How long have you been engaged?”
    Kate laughed. “See, you’re hungry to do the math, right? If I say we got formally engaged over two years ago, you’ll smile and say something nice and benign, but inside you’ll be thinking, ‘Man, this chick’s crazy if she thinks this guy is ever going to seal the deal.’”
    “Is that true? You’ve been engaged for two years now?”
    “Three. We got engaged on our second date.”
    “Hmmmm,” he said.
    She cocked an eyebrow at him. “That’s all you’ve got to say?”
    “I’m still trying to think of something nice and benign.”
    “Forget it. If you’d seen the winners I’ve gone out with in the past, you’d be all about Gerald.”
    “So that’s his name? Gerald?”
    “Yeah, so?”
    “So he sounds like someone’s butler.”
    They both laughed.
    “Thank you,” she said, “for taking my mind off things. I kept getting a weird feeling.”
    “Like what?”
    She looked at the rows of houses they were passing, silent and dark and brooding. “Like there are people in there watching us.”
    The town square was like a Norman Rockwell painting gone horribly awry. At the center of the square was a bronze statue of a man on a horse, the horse’s front legs pawing at the air. Surrounding the statue and scattered about in the snow like stuffing torn from an old mattress were strips of tattered clothing—shirts, pants, underwear, even a baseball hat. Fires burned in old oil drums that had been erected along the street, the great flames reflected in the blackened windows of the shops that circled the square. Cars had been evacuated seemingly without heed, many of them in the middle of the