“You know,” he said, as casually as he could manage, “we’re probably going to have to walk out of here.”
Lolly hugged the blanket closer and grimaced. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“How much food and propane do you have handy?”
She sighed. “Enough for a couple of days, max.”
“That’s what I figured. We’ll get warm, eat, sleep, wait for the sun to come up and listen for the tree fall to ease up a bit. By tomorrow afternoon, at the latest, the road crews should be out working. The road up the mountain is low priority, probably at the bottom of the list, but if we can make it down the hill we’ll probably meet up with someone long before we reach town.”
“And if we don’t?”
He smiled at her. “Then we’ll walk the rest of the way to town.” After tonight, a long, difficult walk in the cold seemed like a cakewalk.
“I need something hot to eat before I even think about walking out of here.” Bundled up in her blanket, Lolly headed into the hallway, and toward the stairs.
Lolly hated, hated, hated to go back into the kitchen. Because she hated it so much, she forced herself to keep going, to not hesitate. The memory of what had happened here remained too strong, even though so many other memories—good and bad—had been made tonight. But she wanted and needed warm food in her belly, and she refused to allow a dead man to keep her from it. He was dead; she wasn’t. She’d won.
With the power out the electronic ignition on the stove wouldn’t work, so she found the matches and lit a burner on the stove; the flame gave off heat and a little bit of light, enough for her to look for some candles and the oil lamps she knew were still here, somewhere. She turned, and stopped dead in her tracks, hugging the blanket closer to her. Several drawers were standing open, and her heart lurched at the sight.
She took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Darwin and Niki must have been looking for something, but what? Anything that could be sold, she imagined. She wondered if she’d ever again be not afraid. From here on out was she going to jump at the sound of every ring of the doorbell or creak of the house? Would she be suspicious of every stranger?
Gabriel was in the living room, lighting the gas fireplace, laying their clothes out to dry. She wouldn’t think about Darwin; she’d think about Gabriel. She would concentrate on finding the candles, getting some soup heated, then they’d settle down in front of the fire.
It hadn’t bothered her before, but she suddenly realized how lumpy she’d looked in all those clothes, layer upon layer. How mortifying, no matter how necessary it had been. She wanted to look good for Gabriel, and wasn’t that a kick in the pants? She’d never cared very much what anyone thought of her appearance, much less Gabriel, but now … now she wished she had the blue sweater that her friends said made her eyes shine, and those really expensive snug jeans that made her butt look fantastic. She touched her wet hair. She could really use a hair dryer, too.
With one hand holding the blanket, which was wrapped tightly around her, Lolly collected a sauce pan from the cabinet, then grabbed a can of soup from the pantry. She set the can on the counter, reached into an open drawer for the can opener … and froze.
When she’d last been in this kitchen, she’d been trying to fight off Darwin, and she had instinctively scanned the room for weapons. At that time, the block of knives had been full—out of reach, but full. Now, the largest knife in the collection was gone.
Why would they have taken a knife when they both had guns?
A chill ran up her spine. Niki could’ve survived the crash and come back. They hadn’t heard her breaking through a window, and Gabriel had locked the front door. But her keys had been in her purse, and Niki had had the purse.
Lolly could barely breathe. She’d been so intent on getting warm, so sure Niki was either dead or down for the count, she hadn’t even thought about the keys.
The nightmare came roaring back. The fear and the cold gripped her.
“Gabriel!” she screamed, whirling to run, and she came face-to-face with the nightmare.
Niki—bleeding, limping, holding the missing knife in her raised hand—lurched toward Lolly.
Lolly threw herself backward until she slammed into the cabinet, and then she had no place to go. She grabbed the can of soup and threw it; it bounced off Niki’s shoulder. “Fuck!” Niki said furiously. “That hurt, bitch!”
Lolly grabbed the saucepan and threw it, and when Niki ducked she seized the chance to dart to the side, away from the cabinets. There was a small dried floral arrangement on the kitchen table; she threw that, too. Niki ducked again, and kept coming.
Then Gabriel was there, fast and silent on his bare feet, looming out of the darkness. He hit Niki from behind, the impact sending her crashing into the cabinets. She screamed with pain, tumbled to the floor. Gabriel pounced, grabbed the hand that held the knife, and slammed it against the floor over and over again until she lost her grip and the knife clattered to the floor.
Immediately, Niki began to wail. “Stop! I’m hurt! My arm … I think my arm is broken.” She began to sob. “What was I supposed to do? You killed Darwin and then you left me out in the cold to die. How could you?”
Easy, thought Lolly. She didn’t feel sorry for the woman at all, even though dried blood caked her face, her clothes. But Niki continued to whine; just like Darwin, she went from enraged attacker to pathetic beggar in a heartbeat. How many times had that act worked for them? Gabriel didn’t buy it, though, and neither did Lolly.