Danger in the Snow

by Wendy Meadows

  “Look what I caught!” Robbie Nelson yelled at Connor. He pushed Amanda up to Connor. “Caught this lady trying to escape.”

  Amanda yanked her arm away from Robbie and threw a defiant look at the face of the man in front of her, who still wore a white camouflage ski mask. “Show me your face,” she demanded in a hard voice even though her heart was shaking in fear.

  Connor grinned, raised his left hand, and removed the ski mask. “Here I am,” he told Amanda.

  Amanda froze. “You're...a monster,” she whispered.

  Connor ran his left hand over a face that held no trace of a soul or a heart – the face of a dead man walking the earth in the form of a monster. “Where is your friend?” he asked Amanda as the snow and winds attacked his face.

  Amanda tried to step away from Connor, but Robbie shoved her forward. “Leave me alone!” she yelled.

  Sarah aimed her gun at Robbie. She couldn't see the man's face because he was wearing a black ski mask, but she could easily make out his form against the pale snow. “Step to the right, June Bug,” she begged in a whisper. “If I fire from this angle and miss, I might hit you.”

  “What do you want to do with her?” Robbie asked Connor.

  Connor slid his ski mask back on. “I'll deal with her later,” he said and studied the alley, standing in a way that blocked Sarah from getting a clear shot at him. “Come on.” Connor grabbed Amanda's arm, pulling her back into the coffee shop. He waited for Robbie to follow and slammed the back door closed. “Take her out the front and lock her in the police station with the other two.”

  Robbie pointed an ugly black gun at Amanda, and ordered her to move. “Out front,” he said.

  “Before I leave,” Amanda said and locked eyes with Connor, “I want to speak my piece.”

  “Shut up, you—”

  “You shut up and listen to me!” Amanda yelled. “Regardless of what happened to you in the past, it doesn't give you the right to harm people. Revenge is a cowardly act, do you hear me? And don't start telling me about your mother, either. Bertha may or may not have mental issues, but I do know she has a mean spirit to her...a heart without love or compassion for mankind.”

  “Shut up—”

  Amanda raised her hand and slapped Connor across his face before he could stop her. “Kill me if you want,” she said, “but you're going to hear the truth.”

  “Want me to shoot her?” Robbie asked.

  Connor stared at Amanda and then slowly shook his head no. “I promised my mother this one would suffer. Take her to the police station and lock her up. If the other two try anything, shoot them.”

  “You're a coward,” Amanda told Connor in a sickened voice.

  “A coward?” Connor asked. He grabbed Amanda's wrist. “Lady, my old man had my mother put away in a mental hospital against her will and then he divorced her. I was forced to go live with a woman that abused me, starved me, and beat me with sticks...a woman that murdered what little hope I had left in my heart. I could deal with that because I knew someday I was going to kill her. My focus was on the person who pushed my mother over the edge, and that person was you. All my mother ever talked about was you.” Connor narrowed his eyes. “She hated my old man and she hated her sister and ordered me to kill them, but she made me promise to punish you.”

  “You don’t—”

  “Listen to me,” Connor snapped. “My mother isn't mentally ill,” he continued, “she's a hard woman, that's all. You were simply a spoiled brat who couldn’t handle normal discipline, did you ever consider that? When you had her dismissed from her position, your mother spoke ill of her all around town and she couldn't find work. No one in London would hire her because of the black mark on her record.” Connor squeezed Amanda's wrist painfully in his grip.

  “You're hurting me.”

  “Shut up!” Connor yelled. “You're the one that's going to hear the truth.” Connor glanced at Robbie and then back at Amanda. “My mother began drinking her sorrows away. She became...difficult to deal with. My old man couldn't deal with her anymore and had her locked away in a mental home that wasn't fit for a rat! She spent many years in that hovel.” Connor's eyes began dripping with venom. “After being released, she found me. I was in the military at the time. My mother came to me and begged me to take revenge. To kill everyone who harmed her. It was the least I could do for the woman who sacrificed so much for me.”

  “I don't care,” Amanda promised Connor. “It doesn’t change the fact that it’s wrong!”

  Connor ignored Amanda and walked his mind back through time. He saw himself standing in a lonely room with the woman who begged him to use his military-trained killing skills to punish Amanda. “I want you to kill your father, too,” Bertha spoke in a cold voice as a hard, London rain fell outside the filthy window. “I want you to kill him for betraying me.”

  Connor stared into his mother's eyes and saw tears streaming down her face, though not a trace of sadness was anywhere in her expression. “I’m confused, I don't—”

  “They hurt me, Connor,” Bertha cried and grabbed the old, worn-down, brown dress covering her skinny frame. “They locked me away in a prison and now I'm forced to beg for food.” Bertha wiped at her fake tears and grabbed her tangled, ratty gray hair. “Look at me, son...look what they did to me. Look what I survived to come back to you. I need you. I need you to do this, my son, my only boy. Don’t you see?”

  Connor stared at his mother. As he did, his heart began to hear her plea and fill with anger. “I always dreamed of getting revenge on Aunt Emily for what she did to me,” he confessed. “It would feel good to kill her…”

  Bertha walked across a dirty wooden floor and wrapped her skeletal arms around Connor. “You can kill my sister,” she promised. “But first I need her. I need your daddy, too. Let them live until I get what I need from them, and then kill them. But there's one, Connor...one very special person from my past that I want you to kill very slowly.” Bertha looked up into Connor's eyes. “I have a plan, son. If you listen to your mother, everything will be okay.”

  “A plan?” Connor asked.

  “You’re going to do everything exactly the way I say. You’ll get me readmitted to a mental hospital...a nicer one this time. That way no one can throw suspicion on me. And then I want you to fly to America and find your half-brother. We're going to need money and he is involved with drugs. I also want you to leave the military. I want you to get a job at the mental hospital that’s going to become my new home.” A soulless grin slithered across Bertha's face as she showed Connor her black teeth. “We're going to be very careful, son, and very clever in carrying out justice.” And with those words, Bertha slowly began to reveal her plan to Connor, forcing his already-unstable heart to harden into that of a deadly killer.

  “You see,” Connor told Amanda and let go of her wrist, “the guilty must be punished.”

  Amanda closed her eyes, tried to think, and looked at Connor. “Okay, sure, you slimy bloke, maybe your aunt deserved a few good slaps across the face for hurting you...but killing people? That's going too far.”

  “Death must come to those who do harm,” Connor promised Amanda and nodded at Robbie. “Get her out of here. I have to go track down a missing rat.”

  “Let's go,” Robbie ordered Amanda.

  Amanda hesitated. Robbie had found the gun she had hidden in her coat. She was helpless to do anything…except buy time. Sarah was outside buried in a snowdrift. Surely, Amanda hoped, her best friend would appear at any minute. She needed to delay the two men. But how? It was clear that Connor was through talking to her. So Amanda did what any woman in her situation might do. She feigned a panic attack.

  “You can’t kill me! I have a family, you evil man. Oh, my…I don’t feel so good…” she said, and she fell down in a heap, pretending to faint. “I hope this works,” she thought, lying on the kitchen floor with her eyes closed. “Sarah, honey, hurry and do something.”

  “Oh, what now?” Robbie complained. He b
ent down and studied Amanda's face. “We don't need this. Should I just kill her here?”

  Connor stood over Amanda like a dark tower. “No, not yet. Pick her up and carry her out of here if you have to,” he ordered Robbie. “I have work to do.”

  “I should charge you more money,” Robbie told Connor in a voice that didn't sit well with his half-brother.

  Connor grabbed Robbie up by his shoulder and threw him across the kitchen. Robbie crashed into a table and toppled down onto the floor. “What was that for?” he asked.

  “Don't you ever speak out of turn,” Connor yelled at Robbie, turning his back to Amanda.

  Robbie locked his eyes on the rifle Connor was holding in his right hand. Fear filled his heart. “I'm sorry,” he said, crawling up onto his knees. “What’s your problem, man? I was only...kidding around, you know? Take it easy.”

  Connor raised his rifle and aimed it straight at Robbie. “I don't like jokes,” he warned.

  “Hey...what are you doing?” Robbie yelled. “We're brothers...right?”

  “I don't have a brother,” Connor told Robbie, staring into a pair of terrified eyes. “If you ever talk out of line again, I’ll take you down without hesitation. You’ll bleed in the snow like a deer torn open by a bear, is that clear?”

  “Yeah...yeah, we're clear,” Robbie promised in a shaky voice.

  Amanda peeked open her eyes, spotted Connor standing with his back to her, and then glanced toward the back door. The doorknob on the back door was slowly turning. “Oh my,” Amanda thought as panic struck her chest.

  Outside in the storm, Sarah was slowly turning the doorknob. Her plan was to burst into the kitchen and take her foes by surprise. But then she stopped turning the doorknob and lowered her eyes down at the snow. “Not smart,” she said, “you're acting in desperation because you're scared for Amanda. Now think...think...”

  Sarah bit down on her lower lip and then looked down the long, storm-chilled alley. A shadowy four-legged figure was running toward her. “Mittens,” she whispered. “Oh, Mittens.” Mittens ran to Sarah and began jumping on her. “Oh girl, you're safe,” Sarah said in a relieved voice. Mittens, worried by the dangers in the storm, let out a low bark and licked Sarah's gloved hand. Sarah quickly pulled Mittens behind a wooden trash bin enclosure and squatted down. “They have Amanda, girl,” she said, staring at the back door. “I need a plan.” Mittens stared at Sarah with sad eyes. Mittens didn't have a plan to offer. “I know, girl,” Sarah said. “If I try and make it to the station and let Conrad and Andrew free, Connor might kill Amanda…”

  Sarah leaned her head against the wood surface. “Connor Barker has that heat device...” she said in a worried voice. “He'll surely scan the station house before entering...if his scan comes up cold...too risky,” she told Mittens. “I have to leave Conrad and Andrew in place for Amanda's sake.” Sarah listened to the icy winds. “We have a hostage situation on our hands, Mittens. And unfortunately, I pushed the killer over the edge...oh, why didn't I focus more on his brother? Stupid...stupid...”

  Mittens let out a low whine and licked Sarah's hand again. “Thanks, girl,” Sarah sighed and straightened up her head. As she did, an idea struck her mind. She quickly touched the wooden trash bin and then looked at Mittens. “Maybe...it could work,” she said. “Mittens, baby, momma is going to need your help.” Mittens stared at Sarah and watched her owner remove a snow-covered lid off the trash bin holder. “Okay, girl, here's the plan. I need you to get inside this bin and act as a source of heat.” Mittens looked at the trash can, shook snow off her fur, and let out a miserable whine. “I know, girl, tough times call for desperate actions. We're facing a deadly killer.” Sarah ran her gloved hands over Mittens’ scared head. “We have to out-think our opponent, girl...two opponents, now. We have to be very clever and very smart.” Sarah saw Pete's face enter her worried mind. “Think smart...be smart, kiddo,” she heard Pete whisper into her ear. “Okay, Pete, I'll think smart and be smart.” Sarah looked into the bin. The trash containers, luckily, were empty. “Okay, girl,” she said and gently wrapped her arms around Mittens, “let's get you out of the snow for a while.”

  As Sarah placed Mittens into the trash can, Amanda listened to Connor continue to terrorize his half-brother, overwhelmed with confusion. “Why did you stop?” she whispered, wondering why Sarah backed away from storming into the kitchen. “Where are you, love?”

  “Get to your feet and take that woman to the police station and lock her up,” Connor snapped at Robbie without lowering his gun. “If you step out of line again, I'll do worse than kill you. I'll make a call.”

  “A call?” Robbie asked.

  “I know where all your drugs are stashed in your home,” Connor grinned. “All I have to do is make one call and it's back to prison for you.”

  “No...please,” Robbie begged, “I can't...I can't go back to prison. Anything but prison, Connor.”

  Connor lowered his rifle. “My mother is covering my rear position,” he warned. “If you try and betray me, she'll make the call and tell them where to look. Now do as I say.”

  “Okay, okay,” Robbie said, scrambled to his feet, and ran over to Amanda. “Maybe I make her walk?” he asked.

  “Just pick her up and carry her out of here!” Connor yelled.

  Robbie wasn't so sure he could pick up Amanda. Unlike Connor, he was a small man who wasn't very strong. Years of drug use had drained his mind and strength. But what choice did he have? He bent down, grabbed Amanda, and with great difficulty, lugged her over his shoulder and stumbled out of the kitchen. He began making his way out into the storm, unaware that he was going to set off a hidden trip wire at the police station.

  As soon as Robbie stepped out into the storm, Sarah began throwing snowballs at the back door. “Come out and play,” she whispered and waited for a monster to appear.

  Connor turned around furiously at the sudden flurry of noise and aimed his rifle at the back door and listened. Thud...thump...thud...thump. Listening closely, it was clear that it was snow hitting the door, from the way the snowballs fell into pieces and made a little sound as they fell down after each strike. One snowball after another struck the back door. The soldier in Connor cried out from a far and distant place, crying out for caution. The disciplined soldier begged to be called out of hiding, but the killer that was controlling Connor's mind ignored the voice of caution and sneered at the back door, heading out into the storm.

  “Come out,” Sarah begged. She threw one more snowball and then ran to the end of the alley and hid behind the edge of a building. Seconds later, the back door to the coffee shop burst open. Connor stepped out into the snow with his rifle in his right hand and the infrared scanner in his left hand.

  “Where are you?” Connor whispered and began scanning the alley with the heat device. When the device locked onto the heat of an object hidden in a snow drift, he grinned. “Ah, so you're hiding over there,” he said and threw the device down. It fell into knee-deep snow and he eased over to the trash container covered in a snow drift, looking like a monster crawling out of a dark closet. “I know you're hiding in the drift,” he yelled and aimed his rifle at the center of the pile of snow. Poor Mittens let out a whine and hunkered down. “Come out before I begin firing!”

  Sarah watched a monster dressed in white arctic camouflage aim a deadly high-powered rifle at her poor dog. She aimed her gun at him and carefully lined up a clear shot. “Time to die, snowman,” she said, and without wasting another second, fired her gun. Only, her gun didn't fire. The snow and cold had caused the gun to jam. “No,” Sarah said and began banging the barrel of her gun against her leg. “Not now...not again.”

  Connor, unaware that Sarah's gun had jammed on her, began to pull the trigger but then quickly stopped himself. “No, not yet,” he grinned. Instead of shooting, he jammed the butt of his rifle into the snowdrift and began digging around. When the barrel struck the trash can, he paused. “What?” he asked. Then he heard Mittens let out
a sound. “What is this?” Connor hit the hard side of the wooden trash can enclosure, then he swept his arm through the accumulated snow on top of it and yanked open the lid. Mittens exploded out of the empty trash can and dashed off toward Sarah. “What the—?” Connor yelled. He aimed his rifle and fired at Mittens. Mittens turned the corner of the alley just seconds before the bullet whizzed and ricocheted against the brick wall.

  “Run, girl!” Sarah ordered Mittens when the dog rounded the corner. Sarah threw down her gun and ran to the front of the coffee shop, snatched open the front door, and on lightning-fast legs, she stormed toward her office. As she did, the back door burst open. Connor appeared with his rifle, prepared to fire.

  “Time to die!” Connor yelled and fired at Sarah.

  Sarah dived into her office and kicked the door closed. “Hurry,” she said to herself, crawling to her knocked-over desk.

  “There's no escape,” Connor yelled again. He kicked the back door shut and walked over to the office door. “I'm going to make you suffer for every word you spoke against my mother, cop. Oh yeah, you're going to suffer real bad.” Connor raised his rifle and fired two shots through the office door.

  Sarah ducked down as the shots went wide and pinged harmlessly into the tough, thick wood of her old desk. She snatched open the right drawer of her desk and pulled out a revolver. The gun was old but functional and given to her as a present from Pete. Sarah quickly checked the chamber, saw six bullets ready for use, and nodded. “Sometimes old tools are the best,” she said just as Connor kicked open the office door to check if his bullets had hit their intended target.

  Connor spotted Sarah crouching behind the desk on the floor. He sneered, realizing she was pinned with no escape. He lifted the rifle and aimed it right at her chest. “Die, snowman!” Sarah yelled and squeezed the trigger on the revolver. The gun exploded with deafening sound. Bullets burst through the air. Each bullet struck Connor in his chest and threw him back out into the kitchen. When the chamber emptied out, Sarah slowly crawled to the office door and spotted Connor lying on his back...silent and not moving. His rifle was resting right beside him. “Careful,” she whispered and cautiously moved out of her office and went to Connor, expecting the man to jump up at her at any second, despite his wounds. Sarah found a dead body instead – a dead man with six holes in his chest.