Chapter Fifteen
It had been a while since Shelby had seen the people outside her vehicle. Her nerves were shaking, but she had to hold it together for the kids. She’d managed to get Macey to stop crying and had let her come up to the front passenger seat of the minivan. Her daughter felt more comforted next to her mother.
If she only knew how Shelby really felt, her insides churning, nerves frayed. Every few minutes she kept trying the radio, hoping to hear something. What? Christmas carols? No, something about the highway and when rescue might come. Someone had to come.
The storm hadn’t let up. Her wipers couldn’t keep up with the amount of snow dumped onto her windshield. The thick layer was darkening the inside of the vehicle. It felt like they were being buried alive, as if the minivan had become a coffin and someone was shoveling the snow over it. It actually made it hard to breathe.
“We should have stayed at Dad’s,” Luke said from the back seat.
Shelby tried to keep calm. “But we always have Christmas at our house.” Why couldn’t the boy understand?
“Our house is boring.”
Shelby took a deep breath. Ignore him, she told herself. He’s frustrated and bored, and maybe even a little scared, though he wouldn’t show it. Maybe that’s why he wants his dad, the strong one. She had to demonstrate she could be strong too and handle this situation.
Her kids were going to be with her on Christmas morning, no matter what. Luke could pout all he wanted. She’d gone out into the storm to get them, and she was damn well going to bring them home. She gritted her teeth to hold in a gasp, wanting to cry.
Keep it together, damn you. Don’t let him win. He’s probably passed out by now anyway, him and that young girlfriend of his. Let that little hussy put up with his alcohol-fueled rages. Shelby had put up with enough. She thought about the time Macey had written a letter to Santa Claus, saying all she wanted for Christmas was for her parents to get along. She would forfeit any gifts for just that one.
Shelby had cried over that letter. She knew then that the last straw had come, and she needed to get out of the marriage to save the kids.
But who was going to save the kids now? Her?
When she saw the people outside the van, she had no idea what they were doing. At first she had hoped it was someone coming to rescue them, but they walked right by her vehicle. And since then there had been nothing. She didn’t even see any signs of the people in the hatchback stuck in front of her.
Had they gone somewhere too?
Shelby’s heart began pounding. What if everyone else had found their way to safety? Panic set in. Maybe that’s why she saw people outside. They all found a way out. Maybe all the other cars on the turnpike were empty, and she was the last one. Her breathing deepened. Somehow, the others had gotten out, and her vehicle had been overlooked. She and the kids had been forgotten, left behind. She gasped. No one noticed them. How could they not have seen them in the van? It was a big vehicle. They should have seen her. I don’t want to be alone, she cried inside.
She pounded the horn on her steering wheel, the beeping wailing out into the dark night.
Chapter Sixteen
Joy Drake looked at her husband in the seat beside her in the SUV, wondering if he was the man who could save her from their situation, even though his aggressive driving was responsible for getting them into this mess. That got under her skin, because he never seemed to be a cautious driver. But that was one of the things that attracted her to him more than twenty years ago. Mason had an edge to him. Of course it had softened now they were both closing in on fifty, that was to be expected. But he never backed down from anything.
That came in handy with his job as a parole officer. She knew he had to deal with a lot of tough characters, and he had to make sure he was the one in charge. They had to know he was the boss and respect that.
She sure did. And Mason would get her out of this. Joy needed him to rescue her, especially following the guilt she’d felt earlier today at her office Christmas party.
Though it wasn’t really her fault. She was always a bit flirty at work. She just saw it as harmless fun. That’s what people did in an office setting. Sexual tension and innuendos ran rampant at the office. That was typical in any business she had worked in. It was just a way of coping with the stress and routine of the job.
Add alcohol to the mix and things sometimes got a little out of control.
Jerome was a few years younger than her and extremely handsome with a sweet physique, his dress slacks stretched taut across his firm-looking buttocks. He worked out at a local gym and was very active, and it showed. All the girls in the office were drawn to him, and he knew it and fed off the attention. But still, it was all very harmless, a smile here, a joke there, a squeeze of the arm in the break room. Sometimes when Joy was having intercourse with Mason, which was a rarity these days, she would fantasize that she was having sex with Jerome. She closed her eyes, picturing his younger, muscular frame and abs on top of her, driving down hard into her, instead of her husband’s paunchy belly rubbing against her.
And when she was in the office, looking at him, she’d think of those moments, knowing it was all fantasy. Except today had been different. At some point during the office party, she had found herself alone with him in his office. He had a small token he wanted to give her, a little gift as a gesture for her friendship at work. Jerome handed her the small wrapped box.
Joy felt a little embarrassed getting something from him. It had been totally unnecessary. He shrugged it off as nothing. She unwrapped the package and saw the scented candle. She sniffed its cinnamon spice odor and thanked him, giving him a hug. She meant to just brush his cheek lightly with her lips, but his head moved and his mouth was on hers.
That’s when the hand slid up the side of her sweater till it found her left breast and he squeezed it, holding on firmly. She didn’t brush it away, instead letting it linger and enjoying the sensation running through her body. Her lips returned his kiss, but she kept her tongue inside.
Then she abruptly nudged him aside with a smile. “None of that,” she joked. His hand released her breast but the sensation still lingered. “That’s not proper office etiquette.” She winked and left his office. Part of her had felt like a teenager getting felt up for the first time. But mostly Joy felt guilty, knowing how improper her behavior had been, and worried all the flirtation had sent the wrong message and led poor Jerome on. She also knew though how enjoyable and naughty that brief embrace was. And it kind of scared her.
Not scared like she was now. This was a different kind of fear.
Looking at her husband, she realized what a horrible mistake she made at the party, and how awkward it would be when she went back to work after the holidays. She dreaded that and cursed herself for how foolish and childish she acted. Mason had been her husband, father of her children and the man she’d loved for a long time. She understood that, maybe not always appreciating it. But she needed him now more than ever. He would be the one to save her from everything.
Chapter Seventeen
Graham Sawyer didn’t like the thought of going back out into the storm.
He had been admiring the comforts of the Volkmanns’ RV when he thought about the others trapped in their vehicles, especially the children he had seen looking out the window at him from the minivan. What if his own daughters and wife were trapped out here? That family might be safe in their van, but they must be scared and feeling helpless. The same with that young kid he had walked with to the snowplow.
“We should bring the others in here,” he said to Werner Volkmann. “It’s warm and safe.” He hoped he wasn’t overstepping his bounds with the old man.
“Of course,” Werner said, popping up from his captain’s chair, which swiveled around to face the interior of the cabin. “We have plenty of propane to keep the heaters running all night.”
“And we have food,” Francine Volkmann stated. “We can have a Christmas Eve feast.” She smiled.
Graham moved to the bathroom in the rear of the cabin to grab his boots, still soaked from his earlier excursion outside.
“Wait,” Werner said, following him. “Those are drenched. You put those back on and go out there, your toes will freeze off. What’s your shoe size?”
“Nine and a half.”
“My boots are a ten, and they are nice and dry.” The old man opened a narrow closet and pulled out a pair of black winter boots. He handed them to Graham, along with a winter coat and ski pants. “These should fit you too. You need to be better dressed for this.” He also took out a pair of wool socks and gave them to him.
Graham felt much better about the prospect of going outside with this new apparel. He thanked the old man and got dressed. Werner even had a dry winter ski cap.
“Francine and I were planning to do some cross-country skiing, so we’re well equipped.”
Clark got up from the bench seat. “I’ll go with you,” he said.
Graham looked at his dear friend, who indeed looked rested from his near collapse outside. But still, he didn’t think Clark would be up to it.
“You had quite an ordeal last time. Just stay here and relax.”
“I’m fine now,” Clark said. “And you shouldn’t go out there alone.”
“A buddy system would be better,” Werner said.
Graham looked at Clark, and then the rest. His only other options were an old man, an old woman and Felker, the weird scrawny Salvation Army guy, who had dispensed with his coffee mug and now drank straight from his flask. Not much of a choice. His gaze fell to Clark again, looking him up and down. He’d rather have his friend with him, but….
“You don’t have the right clothing,” Graham said.
“I have my winter parka and ski pants,” Francine said, looking at Clark. “And I’m big enough that they should fit you.”
Clark chuckled at that.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Graham asked, already noticing his friend’s spirit seemed better.
“I want to do this.”
“Okay. Suit up. But we stay together.”
“I won’t let you out of my sight,” Clark said.
Sweat built up inside Graham’s clothing from the insulation of the gear and the warmth inside the RV as he waited for Clark to dress. But he knew that would change as soon as they stepped outside into the winter maelstrom. Once Clark zipped up his powder-blue parka and squeezed a pink snow cap onto his head, they were ready to go. Graham laughed at how Clark looked in Francine’s winter gear.
“I wouldn’t go out there if I were you,” Lewis Felker said, his eyes beady, his thin cracked lips barely parting.
Graham stared at the man, who sat at the table and still had not removed his wet wool coat. He didn’t know if it was even worth answering the guy, but he did. “Someone needs to help those people.”
“If they’re still there.” He brought the flask to his lips and tipped it back.
Graham looked away, into Clark’s cautious eyes. He nodded at his friend and then pushed open the side door, the icy wind immediately clawing at him. The snow was up over his knees as he stepped onto the road. He could barely keep his eyes open, wishing he had goggles. Bending his head down, he barreled forward through the drifts, pushing a path through the snow with his legs because it was impossible trying to lift each leg and plant a foot ahead. Graham kept looking over his shoulder, both to give his eyes a break from the nipping wind and to keep an eye on Clark to make sure he didn’t lag behind.
His friend was there, struggling as well but keeping up. Clark waved a hand to signal he was fine. Graham wanted to make sure he stayed close. The mist created by the swirling snow made it nearly impossible to see in front of him. There could be no cars at all on the highway and he wouldn’t be surprised. In fact, he could barely tell he was on a highway. He might just as well have been walking through a snowy meadow. Graham imagined how easily one could get lost out here.
If I walk a straight line from the RV, I’m bound to come upon the other vehicles.
He looked behind him, beyond where Clark was struggling to keep up. Graham could barely see the RV already, as if a white curtain had dropped down behind them. There was only a faint boxy outline in the background. It didn’t help that the vehicle was also white.
What color was the minivan with the kids? He tried to remember. There had been so much snow on it when he passed it, that he hadn’t noticed. It had just looked white to him. Plus he had been paying more attention to trying to find the naked man, who must be long dead and buried beneath a drift somewhere. It would probably be days before the plows unearthed his frozen corpse. What a way to go.
Graham’s thoughts were jarred by a sound.
At first he thought it was someone crying out. He stopped in his tracks, trying to listen over the howl of the wind.
He recognized it, the blare of a car horn just ahead.
Clark bumped into him, startling him. He looked over his shoulder at his friend, who had been walking with his head down and hadn’t even seen Graham.
“This way,” Graham shouted, knowing Clark probably couldn’t hear him. He motioned with his gloved hand and plowed ahead. In a few feet, the minivan came into view. The wipers were going on the rear window, slow, struggling to brush off the sticky snow.
A smiling boy’s face peered out the window. He waved at them.
Graham waved his hand with little effort to return the gesture and bulled ahead. When he reached the van, he paused, putting his right hand on its back corner, almost as if to make sure he had really found it.
Thank goodness, he thought. This had been harder than he imagined. With his hand never leaving the side of the vehicle, he trailed along till he got to the driver’s side door. It had crusted over with ice and he banged on it, both in an effort to break off some of the ice as well as to alert the woman behind the wheel.
The driver’s side window slid down with a groan and Graham looked into the teary face of the woman behind the wheel. She still had her hand on the steering wheel horn. He reached in and gently pulled her hand off it.
“It’s okay,” he said. “You’ll be all right.”
The woman’s shoulders hunched as she erupted in tears.
Graham patiently waited for her to finish, rubbing her shoulder with a wet gloved hand.
“Are you here to rescue us?” she sputtered between sobs.
“Sort of,” was all Graham could think to say. It was not exactly rescue, just an opportunity to be in a better environment. “We’re gathering in an RV just a little ways back.”
The woman’s face gave him a confused look. Graham felt he disappointed her, telling her she was just going from sitting in one vehicle to sitting in another. But after the incident with the naked man, and whatever mysterious circumstances had befallen the plowman, he felt they’d all be safer together.
“Bundle up,” he said, “it’s just a short walk.”
The woman finally seemed to understand, and turned to relay the info to her boy and girl. It looked to Graham like the boy was excited, pulling on his boots and coat. The girl in the front passenger seat didn’t move. She was already bundled up, and Graham guessed she hadn’t gotten out of her jacket the whole time, even though it appeared pretty toasty in the van. The warmth pouring out the side window felt good on his face.
The side door of the van slid open and the boy popped out, slamming it shut and running off into the snow.
‘Luke!” the woman screamed, craning her neck out the window.
The boy didn’t stop.
“I’ve got him,” Clark yelled and bounded after the boy.
“Come on,” Graham said, opening the driver’s door.
The woman stepped out into the snow, and
then looked back at her daughter.
“Let’s go, Macey,” the woman said.
The girl just looked at the two of them, but didn’t move, instead scrunching down in her seat.
“Macey, please,” her mother pleaded.
The girl looked about the same age as Graham’s middle daughter and he recognized the fear and uncertainty in her eyes.
“They have nice hot cocoa and snacks in the RV,” he said to the girl, keeping his voice gentle though he still had to elevate its volume to be heard above the wind. “And it’s very comfy in there. They even have a TV.”
This brought a half smile to the girl’s face and she crawled across the seat to the open door.
“It’ll be easier if I carry her,” he said to the mother.
She nodded and then looked at her daughter. “Macey, is it all right if this nice man carries you?”
The girl looked at her mother, and then glanced at Graham. Maybe it was something in his eyes and smile that he had nurtured from the years of raising three daughters, but the nervousness dissipated in the girl’s face and she nodded. Graham scooped her up.
The woman shut off her lights and engine and they turned to begin the march back to the RV.
Chapter Eighteen
When Lewis Felker watched Graham and Clark go out the RV door, he didn’t expect to see them return. He tried to warn them, but they shrugged him off, so he didn’t care what happened to the pretty boys. To hell with them. They had a snowball’s chance in hell of making it back.
What concerned Felker more, as he tipped back his flask to drain the last drops of whiskey in it, was that he was out of booze. His jittery eyes scanned the interior of the RV. The Volkmanns stared back at him, probably just as uncomfortable with him as he was being with them. He used the back of his hand to wipe a drop of whiskey from the corner of his mouth, licking it off his skin in the process.
“You’re lucky they found you out there,” Francine said, smiling at him.
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