The Cold Kiss

by John Rector

  “No!” Sara stood up fast, her voice loud. “We can’t do that. Things are different now.”

  “Nothing’s different.”

  “Everything is different.” Her voice got louder with each word. “Someone shot him because of this money, and now he’s dead. If we keep it, they’ll come after us, too.”

  “Who’ll come after us?”

  “Whoever owns this money. Whoever killed him.”

  I held up my hands and tried to calm her down, but she stepped away and backed up against the wall.

  “No, Nate.”

  “Sara, come on.” I kept my voice soft. “No one knows he had this money.”

  “Someone does.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because someone shot him, Nate, and because he had that damn gun. You said it was an assassin’s gun.”

  “I could be wrong about that.” I lied. “But even if I’m not, it doesn’t mean—”

  “Just stop. This kind of thing happens all the time in movies, and it always ends up bad.”

  “In movies?”

  “He was running from someone because of that money and now he’s dead. If we take it then they’ll come after us.”

  “This isn’t a movie.”

  Sara looked away. There were tears on her cheek and she wiped them away with the back of her hand. “That money belongs to someone, and they’ll come after it until they find it. For all we know they’re right behind us.”

  That reminded me of the diner and Syl asking if anyone had come in while he was in the bathroom. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, and I still didn’t.

  I wouldn’t let myself.

  “We can’t keep it, Nate, we just can’t, okay?”

  She was crying, and I let her go on until she’d calmed down enough for me to get close, then I took her hands and said, “All we’re doing is talking. There’s nothing we can do about any of this tonight, so we have some time to think everything through.”

  “There’s nothing to think through,” she said. “This isn’t worth getting killed over.”

  I smiled. “Two million dollars?”

  Sara pushed past me, but I wrapped my arm around her waist, stopping her.

  “Don’t joke about this, Nate.”

  I told her I was sorry, over and over, and when she believed I was telling the truth she leaned into me and put her head against my chest.

  We stood like that for a while then I said, “What if there isn’t anyone out there?”

  “Nate—”

  “Just think about it,” I said. “What if there’s no one coming?”

  “There is, I know there is.”

  “But what if there’s not? What if we end up handing all this money over to the cops for no reason?”

  She looked at me like she was about to argue. Instead, she said, “There’s no way to know for sure. We just have to assume.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if we turn the money in and we’re wrong, at least we’re still alive.”

  “And we lose the money.”

  “It’s better than getting killed. If we keep the money we’ll always be looking over our shoulders.” She paused. “I don’t want to live like that.”

  “Then help me think of a way to keep it that’s safe,” I said. “There has to be one.”

  Sara shook her head. “Once we tell the police about Syl, they’ll have our names on record. If someone’s looking for the money, all they’ll have to do is read the report. We were the last ones to see him alive. It won’t be hard to figure out what we did.”

  She was right. Once the police knew, it would be easy to track us down. Still, I wasn’t ready to give in.

  I went over all the options I could think of, but none of them felt right. After a while, I got up and walked into the bathroom and dropped my cigarette in the toilet. I watched it circle the bowl for a long time.

  When I came back, I thought I had the answer.

  Sara was standing at the window and staring out into the darkness. I came up behind her and put my hands on her shoulders.

  “I think I have an idea,” I said.

  I felt her shoulders tense. “Nate,” she said. “Please, don’t—”

  “Hear me out.”

  She let the curtain close then she turned and looked at me. She wasn’t smiling. “I know it’s a lot of money, but we can’t keep it. We need to let it go and move on.”

  “Will you listen?”

  Sara paused. She looked at me for a moment then sat on the edge of the bed and waited.

  I moved one of the chairs over, then sat down and said, “Let’s go over our options.”

  “Nate, come on.”

  I ignored her.

  “You think someone is out there looking for this money, and if we keep it we’ll be in danger, right?”

  “This is pointless.”

  “Let me finish.”

  Sara looked away.

  “We also can’t keep the money because once the police are involved, we’ll be listed in their report and easy to track down.”

  Sara shook her head. “Just tell me your idea.”

  I hesitated, then said, “What if we don’t tell anyone at all?”

  12

  When I opened the passenger door, a plate of snow slid off the side of the car and crumpled on the ground by my feet. Inside, the overhead light came on, yellow and bright. I reached in and shut it off then stepped back and looked around to see if anyone was watching.

  The wind had died and now the snow dropped straight down, thick and unrelenting, like an endless army of white.

  I stood there for a while, until I was sure I was alone, then I reached into the car and pulled the blanket away.

  Syl’s eyes were closed. He’d slipped to the side, and his mouth hung half open. In the shadow, his lips looked purple and I could see his tongue pressing out from behind his teeth like a swollen dark worm.

  I reached down and grabbed his legs then swung them around until his feet hung out the door, then I leaned in and took his arm and pulled him up to sitting. He was heavy, so I ducked low and draped his arm over my neck then lifted him across my shoulders and kicked the car door closed.

  I’d seen enough war movies to know how to carry a man, but this was the first time I’d ever done it, and it was harder than it’d looked on the screen.

  Syl must’ve outweighed me by fifty pounds, and by the time I’d made it halfway to the playground, my legs were burning under me. All I wanted was to stop and rest, but I knew if I put him down, picking him up again would be even harder.

  I kept moving and tried my best to focus on anything other than the weight on my back.

  When I got to the edge of the playground, I stopped and looked out at the field in the distance. There was a single cottonwood tree standing alone in the middle of the snow, and from where I stood, it looked miles away.

  I considered dropping him closer, finding a hidden spot in the playground and hoping for the best, but that wasn’t an option. In order for things to work, Syl needed to stay hidden for as long as possible.

  Under the tree, buried in snow.

  The longer he was out of sight, the less chance of someone tracing him back to us. If that meant carrying him all the way through the field to the tree, then that’s what I was going to do. I didn’t think I’d make it without resting along the way, but I was determined to get past the playground first.

  I didn’t make it.

  Halfway through, I stopped walking and eased Syl to the ground. I knelt next to him and waited for the burn in my legs to pass. When it did, I looked around.

  I was surrounded on all sides by snow-covered animal rides. Rabbits, chickens, pigs, and horses, all standing silent and still on thick black industrial springs. There were swings on one end of the playground, and a set of monkey bars on the other, and in the middle was a slide shaped like a giant turtle.

  I’d been right after all.

  The turtle’s legs were th
ick ladders leading to the top of his shell. His tail was the slide, and on the other end, his head stretched out from his body and hung low over the ground. The turtle’s face was scarred and dim, and the eyes were the size of Frisbees. I could tell at one time they’d been painted white, but now they were weatherworn and faded to gray, the color of storm clouds.

  I stepped closer then reached out to touch the turtle’s face. As I did, a white light passed over the playground. I turned fast then dropped to the ground and pushed myself back, under the shell.

  I saw a car pull in from the highway and stop next to the office. The headlights were aimed directly at the playground. I didn’t move. My heart was slamming against my ribs, and I closed my eyes and focused on my breathing and tried to stay calm.

  Syl was where I’d left him, lying on his side in the snow. The light shone directly on him. All it would take was for someone to look our way, and they’d see him.

  I eased myself down to my stomach then inched my way out from under the shell. When I got close to Syl, I reached for his leg and tried to pull him out of the light.

  He was too heavy, and it didn’t work.

  Instead, I pushed him onto his back so he wasn’t quite as visible, then I crawled back under the shell and waited.

  A few minutes passed, then I heard a car door shut followed by the welcome bells above the office door.

  There were several small slots cut along the plastic shell, but when I looked through them I couldn’t see anything but the glare from the headlights. I wanted to see what was happening, but I didn’t want to take the chance of sticking my head out and being seen, so I stayed where I was and listened.

  I don’t know how long I waited, but after a while my fingers turned numb and started to ache. I squeezed them together and breathed into them. It helped a little, but I was beginning to worry. The dull pain behind my eyes was getting worse, and I still had a long way to go.

  A moment later, I heard the bells again. This time I sat up and looked out through the slots at the parking lot. I saw someone cross through the snow then I heard a car door open and close. It wasn’t long before the car backed away and the headlights moved, leaving us in the dark.

  When I was sure they were gone, I crawled out and watched the car turn the corner and disappear between the buildings. I pushed myself up and out of the snow then walked toward Syl.

  Every muscle in my legs felt stiff and frozen, and it took all the strength I had to lift him again.

  Once I had him over my shoulder, I kept going along the same path toward the cottonwood tree in the distance. By the time I was clear of the playground, the snow was almost to my knees and the pain behind my eyes had tightened and turned sharp.

  I had to force myself to keep moving.

  I knew if I hit a rock or stepped in a ditch and lost my footing, there would be no way I could get back up.

  All I could do was focus on each step.

  I tried to distract myself by thinking of all the things Sara and I could do with the money. The idea I’d never have to see snow again was comforting, and I imagined standing with Sara on a beach somewhere surrounded by palm trees and blue water. I could see us with the baby, but not a baby, a child, a tan and happy child, running along the sand, chasing seagulls through a warm ocean breeze.

  I looked up.

  The tree was closer.

  I told myself that we could buy a boat and sail out onto the ocean where we’d fish and sit in the sun until our skin turned dark. Then, after sunset, we’d lie together and stare up at the stars spinning clean and white through the night sky.

  But most of all, we’d never be cold.

  There was a sudden flash of pain behind my eyes. It was clean and bright and it tore through my head like a bullet. I felt my knees buckle, and for one sick, detached second, I thought I was going to go down.

  Somehow I managed to stay on my feet, and I stood for a moment, trying to ride it out. Eventually, the pain dulled and began to fade. When I thought it was safe, I started moving again.

  I don’t know how long I walked, but the next time I looked up, the cottonwood tree was right in front of me.

  I ducked under the branches and crossed between several small bushes growing around the base. There weren’t many, and most were small and thin, but I was glad to see them. They’d give some extra cover, and that was all we needed. Even if they kept him hidden for one extra day, we’d still be one extra day farther down the road.

  I walked around the tree, looking for a good spot to put him down, then my foot hit something loose and it slipped under me. I stumbled but managed to catch myself before I fell. Once I was steady, I stepped back and saw the ravine just beyond the bushes.

  It was perfect.

  I walked to the edge then turned and let Syl drop off my shoulder to the ground. He hit hard, then rolled into the ravine and sunk facedown into the snow at the bottom.

  A second later, I heard him moan.

  I stood on the edge, unable to move.

  I told myself that I’d imagined the sound, that it was only the wind, but I knew it wasn’t true. There was no wind, just slow falling snow.

  I stayed there for a long time, under the tree, staring at him at the bottom of the ravine, and listening.

  Then he coughed.

  Now I was far away, watching from a distance.

  I saw Syl try to turn himself over, but he couldn’t do it, and he moaned again.

  The sound was sad, panicked.

  I saw myself step forward and slide down into the ravine. The snow at the bottom went up to my knees, and I struggled through it. Once I got close, I reached out to him then stopped.

  I didn’t know what I was going to do.

  The ravine was deep and I didn’t have the strength left to pull him out. Even if I could’ve, I knew there was no way I’d be able to carry him all the way back to the motel.

  It was too late.

  There was nothing I could do.

  Syl was breathing hard, moaning, trying to turn over. I told myself I had to go, that I had to climb out and walk away, but I couldn’t move.

  I couldn’t leave him, not like that.

  I stepped closer and pulled him over onto his back.

  When I did, he looked right at me, his eyes distant and unfocused. He turned his head from one side to the other before coming back to me. This time I saw a flash of clarity on his face, then understanding, then fear.

  “I know you,” he said.

  His voice was dry and thin.

  I backed away.

  The pain in my head was blinding.

  Syl lifted one hand and tried to say something else, but all that came out was a long rush of air.

  I started climbing out of the ravine.

  Syl cried out, his hand shook.

  I kept climbing.

  When I got to the top, I could hear him shuffling around, trying to speak, trying to sit up. Once again, I told myself there was nothing I could do, that he was too far gone to help. I told myself I had to keep going, that he wasn’t going to make it no matter what I did.

  I wasn’t sure if that was true or not, but it was enough to get me moving again.

  As I walked away, I could hear him coughing but I didn’t look back. Sometimes I’d hear him crying out to me in that weak, dry voice, and every time he did, I felt something shrink inside me.

  I tried to focus on Sara and the baby. I told myself I had to do what was right for them, that they were counting on me, and that I had to be strong.

  No matter what, I had to be strong.

  When I got far enough away I stopped and looked back at the tree and watched it lean and sway under the weight of the snow.

  It was my last chance.

  I knew if I didn’t do something, Syl was going to freeze out there. If I didn’t help, it would be the same as if I’d held a gun to his head and pulled the trigger.

  In my heart I knew that I couldn’t leave him out there to die, that it wasn’t inside me,
it wasn’t who I was.

  But in the end, that’s exactly what I did.

  13

  I followed my footprints out of the field, and by the time I reached the edge of the playground I could barely stand up. The pain behind my eyes screamed through me, making it almost impossible to stay on my feet.

  I could see the turtle up ahead, and I locked on to it and forced myself to move forward. When I got to it, I stopped and leaned against its shell. I felt my legs wobble under me and then a forest of black flowers bloomed behind my eyes. The world spun and I turned to the side and vomited into the snow.

  It scared me enough to keep moving.

  When I walked out of the playground, my foot hit something buried in the snow and I fell forward. I tried to push myself up, but there was no strength in my arms.

  I stayed there, facedown, listening to my breathing, and feeling the snow burn numb against my skin.

  I closed my eyes, and all I could think about was Vincent, and that it should’ve been me.

  I don’t know how much time passed, but when I looked up I could see the corner of our building through the snow.

  It was so close.

  I pushed myself up enough to get my legs under me, then I stood and staggered the rest of the way through the parking lot. When I reached our building, I stopped and leaned against the side.

  Dark shadows crept in from the corners of my vision, and I leaned forward and waited for them to pass. When they did, I inched along the wall to our room.

  Once I got to the door, I saw a tiny red light floating in the air across the parking lot. At first, I thought it was my vision playing tricks on me, then the light got brighter, and I saw a man’s face in the glow.

  I didn’t understand what I was seeing, then the red light flew into the air and landed soft in the snow.

  A cigarette.

  A second later, the door across the parking lot opened and someone went inside. I stood for a moment, hoping that what I saw wasn’t real, but I knew it was.

  Someone had been watching.