The Cold Kiss

by John Rector

  Caroline waved us over then pushed herself up.

  As we got closer, I saw Syl lying in front of the fireplace, cocooned in several yellow blankets. His face, a polished purple, was the only part of him not covered.

  He looked worse than I remembered.

  When Sara saw him she stopped and made a short gasping sound. I reached for her hand, but she pulled away.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Frostbite,” Caroline said. “It does nasty things.” She held her hand out to Sara and introduced herself. “I’m happy you’re feeling better. I heard you had a bad night.”

  “Just a long one,” Sara said. “Thanks.”

  Caroline introduced Megan then we all sat at the table next to the fireplace.

  Caroline dropped the stack of papers on the table and said, “I was reading him some of Marcus’s poems, but I don’t think he can hear me.”

  “It can’t hurt to try,” Sara said.

  Caroline smiled. “No, honey, it sure can’t.”

  “Where is everyone?” I asked.

  “Marcus is back at our room, sleeping, I’m sure. Butch and Zack are off somewhere, so it’s just the two of us.” Caroline paused. “Well, three of us.”

  “How’s he doing?” I asked.

  “He needs to get to a hospital,” Caroline said. “But apparently that’s not going to happen.”

  I ignored the angry tone in her voice and said, “Do you think he’s going to die?”

  “You’ll have to ask her.” Caroline pointed to Megan. “She’s the doctor.”

  “Doctor?”

  “Not a doctor,” Megan said. “Just a student.”

  “He looks terrible.”

  Megan nodded. “If he does survive this, he’ll probably lose his nose and several of his fingers.” She looked at him and shook her head. “Caroline’s right. We need to get him to a hospital.”

  “Any news on the snowplows?” I asked.

  “We haven’t heard anything.”

  I told them how the sky looked on our way over and that I thought another storm was on the way. They listened, and for a while no one said anything, then Megan took a cell phone out of her pocket and flipped it open.

  “You have a phone?”

  Megan nodded. “Don’t get too excited. There’s no signal out here. I’ve been trying all night, and now my battery is almost dead.”

  I wasn’t sure if I felt relieved or not. I looked over at Sara. She was staring at Syl.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “I didn’t think he’d be this bad.”

  “He’s also lost a lot of blood,” Megan said. “Between that and spending the night in the storm, it’s amazing he’s alive.” She flipped her phone closed and dropped it on the table. “Still no signal.”

  “Has he said anything?”

  “Nothing that makes sense,” Caroline said. “He mentioned something earlier about a woman named Lilith, but that was it.”

  “He’ll wake up and say a few words then he’ll drop out again,” Megan said. “Actually, that’s a good sign.”

  I felt my stomach cramp and I knew I had to get up. I stood and walked toward the fireplace and knelt next to Syl. His eyes were closed, and his skin was dotted with white blisters. I could hear the low rattle of his breathing. It sounded slow and thin.

  I stayed there for a while, half listening to the conversation at the table behind me, then I saw Megan stand and come sit next to me. She put her fingers against his neck and didn’t speak.

  When she took them away I said, “Did you get a pulse?”

  “Strong and steady,” she said. “He’s a tough one.”

  She unwrapped the blanket and looked at the bandage on his side. It was clean and new, but when she peeled back the corner, the skin underneath was black and smelled warm and fleshy, like rotted meat.

  I made a noise and turned away.

  “He’s infecting,” Megan said. “That’s the problem. I don’t think he has much time left.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  She replaced the bandage then looked at me and said, “Did you two see anything last night when you drove in?”

  “Like what?”

  “A car along the side of the road? Someone walking?”

  “I barely saw this place,” I said. “I almost drove past it.”

  Megan nodded then looked away.

  Behind me, Caroline called my name.

  I turned around.

  “Are you much of a reader?”

  “No,” I said. “Not really.”

  She nodded, slow, like it wasn’t a surprise. “I’ve been thinking a lot about those old mystery novels. You probably don’t know them, but they always start with a group of strangers thrown together around a dead body, usually in a secluded old mansion or on a remote island somewhere.”

  “Or in a motel during a blizzard,” Megan said.

  “That’s right,” Caroline said. “And I’ve been thinking about how strange it is to be in one of those situations in real life.” She motioned to Syl. “Of course, we don’t have a body, but we do have this poor man who we barely know anything about.”

  I didn’t catch it at first, then I did.

  “Barely know anything?” I asked. “We don’t know anything about him, do we?”

  Caroline pointed past me to a stack of mud-streaked clothes sitting on one of the tables.

  “His wallet,” she said. “There’s not much to go on, but it certainly raises some interesting questions. Have a look.”

  I got up and walked across the room toward Syl’s clothes on the table. They were folded and stacked and still wet from the snow. Several lines of water ran off them and dripped onto the floor. Syl’s money clip, thick with cash, was sitting next to a cheap metal watch and a black billfold.

  I picked up the billfold and flipped it open to a laminated ID and a clean, gold badge.

  For a second, I forgot to breathe.

  The ID said his name was Sylvester White, and that he was a detective with the Chicago Police. The photo was an older one. It showed a younger Syl in uniform, straight and smiling against a pale blue wall.

  I stared at it for a long time.

  I heard Sara slide her chair away from the table and cross the room to where I was standing. I didn’t want her to see the badge, but I didn’t have a choice.

  To her credit, she didn’t react at all.

  “So far,” Caroline said, “we know he’s from Chicago and he’s a police detective and that someone out there shot him.” She paused. “Everything else is a mystery.”

  23

  Sara wanted to leave, so I said I’d meet her back at the room. Once she was gone, Caroline asked me if I would mind watching Syl for a couple hours later that night.

  “We’re all taking turns,” she said. “Butch is coming back this afternoon, then Megan and Marcus are taking shifts tonight. We could use the help later this evening, if you don’t mind. All you really have to do is make sure the fire doesn’t die.”

  I told her I’d be happy to help.

  Caroline smiled and touched my shoulder. “Thank you, Nate. Butch’s nephew is staying overnight, so you won’t have to be here for long.”

  “What happens if something happens?” I hesitated. “What if he dies? What are we going to do?”

  “There’s nothing we can do,” Megan said. “Once the phones come back on, we’ll call the police. Hopefully he’ll make it that long and we can get him to a hospital.”

  “If he doesn’t?”

  “Then he doesn’t.” She looked at me. “All we can do is try to keep him warm and comfortable. At this point, it’s out of our hands.”

  Caroline made a dismissive sound.

  I ignored her then looked down at Syl.

  He shifted under the blankets then coughed and mumbled something I couldn’t understand. Megan knelt on the floor next to him and whispered in his ear.

  Whatever she said, it was too soft for me to hear.

  �
�He’s been doing this a lot,” Caroline said. “He’ll wake up and start mumbling about some Lilith woman, then he’ll calm down and drift off again.” She frowned. “It’s very sad. I wonder if she’s his wife.”

  “What does he say about her?”

  “Hard to tell,” she said. “Just her name, mostly.”

  I watched Megan sit back and grab the iron poker beside the mantle and use it to stir the logs in the fire.

  Caroline looked at her and frowned. “Is that really necessary? It’s already so hot in here.”

  “We need to keep it as warm as possible.” Megan leaned the poker against the fireplace then came back to the table and sat down. “You get used to it after a while.”

  I thought I heard a trace of an accent in her voice.

  “You’re from Russia?” I asked.

  Megan nodded then looked away. “St. Petersburg.”

  “Your accent,” I said. “It’s not there all the time.”

  “It comes out once in a while,” she said. “But I work hard to hide it.”

  “Why?”

  She seemed to think about it for a moment, then she said, “I would like to put Russia behind me.”

  “How do you get rid of an accent?” Caroline asked.

  “You sing,” Megan said. “I used to spend hours singing along to American songs. You don’t have an accent when you sing. That’s how actors do it.”

  “Well, it obviously works,” Caroline said. “You sound like you were born and raised right here.”

  Megan smiled. “Not quite, but thank you.”

  They talked for a while longer, and I did my best to listen, but I kept staring at the jagged scars on Megan’s arms. I wanted to know what they were from, but I couldn’t bring myself to ask.

  Eventually, Megan noticed and pulled her sleeves down over her wrists. “It’s not what it looks like.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s okay.”

  I paused. “You didn’t like Russia?”

  She looked at me and I thought she was trying to smile. If she was, it didn’t work.

  “I’m happy to be here,” she said.

  I decided to let it go.

  After a while I pushed back from the table and stood up. “I should check on Sara.”

  “Of course,” Caroline said. “We’ll see you tonight, and thank you for agreeing to help. Maybe the phones will come on or the plows will come, and we won’t need you.”

  “I hope so.”

  “Just keep your fingers crossed.”

  They already were.

  I stood outside the office and stared north toward the playground and the single cottonwood tree in the distance. I wasn’t in a hurry to get back and face Sara, so I took a cigarette from my pocket and lit it.

  I’d smoked half of it before heading back to the room.

  When I opened the door, Sara was kneeling over her suitcase. The others were packed and sitting next to the bed.

  I stood in the doorway, watching her.

  “This is the last one,” she said, not looking up. “But you have to figure out what to do with that stuff.” She pointed to the gun and the backpack on the nightstand. “I’m not touching those.”

  “I’ll take care of them,” I said.

  She sat back on her feet, examining the suitcase, then looked up at me and said, “Are you going to take the bags?”

  “Now?”

  “Yeah, now,” she said. “I want to leave.”

  I didn’t move.

  “Nate, come on.”

  “We can’t leave right now,” I said.

  “You said the Dodge would do good in the snow.”

  “What about Zack?”

  “What about him?”

  “He’ll know why we left. He’ll tell the police.”

  “Let him.” She closed the bag then got up and lifted it off the bed and set it next to the others. “We’ve got money. We can go anywhere in the world, right?”

  I nodded.

  “So let’s go someplace they’ll never find us.”

  “Where?”

  “I don’t care,” she said. “As long as it’s far away.”

  I stepped toward her but she backed up.

  “You know where I always wanted to go?” She didn’t wait for my answer. “Brazil. That’s far away, isn’t it?”

  I told her it was.

  “It’s hot down there,” she said. “You’ll like that.”

  “Sara?”

  “Did you know they have their own Mardi Gras? They call it Carnival. I watched a show about it one time. They have big parades and everything.”

  “We can’t leave,” I said. “Not yet.”

  She looked at me. “He’s a cop, Nate.”

  I nodded.

  “And he’s alive.”

  “I know.”

  “How is that possible? Did you see his face?”

  I told her I did, then said, “I don’t think he’s going to last much longer.”

  “What if you’re wrong? What if he lives? He’s going to be like that for the rest of his life, and we’ll go to prison. I don’t want to have this baby in jail, Nate.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I kept quiet.

  After a while, Sara said, “Can I ask you something?”

  “What?”

  “Promise me you’ll tell me the truth, okay?”

  I promised.

  Sara looked at me. “Did you know?”

  “That he was a cop?” I shook my head. “How could I have known that?”

  “No,” she said. “Did you know last night? Did you know he was still alive when you went out there?”

  I didn’t answer right away, and something changed in Sara’s eyes.

  She tried again.

  “When you took him into the field. Did you know?”

  “No.” I hesitated. “Not at first.”

  “Not at first?”

  “When I was leaving,” I said. “I thought I heard something, but I wasn’t sure. My head was—”

  “You didn’t go check?”

  “What was I going to do, carry him all the way back? You saw me last night. I barely made it on my own.”

  Sara stared at me. “You left him out there.”

  I didn’t say anything.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “And say what? We both thought he was dead. What was I supposed to do?”

  Sara backed away from me, then turned and went into the bathroom and closed the door. I heard the lock click shut. I went to the door and listened.

  She was crying.

  “I didn’t know what to do,” I said.

  No answer.

  “I did what I thought was best for you and the baby. I didn’t think he’d make it.” I felt a cold ache at the base of my skull and I tried to ignore it. “You weren’t there, Sara. I’m the one who had to make the decision. What the hell did you do?”

  I kicked the door, hard, then backed away and paced the room. My hands were shaking, but I barely noticed. I tried to think about what to do next, but the pain in my head was getting worse and nothing came to me.

  I needed to get away until I calmed down.

  I went to my suitcase and took out my pills and popped two of them into my mouth and swallowed them, then I put the bottle back. I sat for a while then I stood up and grabbed Syl’s backpack off the floor.

  “You want to leave? Fine, we’ll leave.”

  I slipped the strap over my shoulder then picked up one of Sara’s suitcases and walked out into the parking lot. When I got to the car, I opened the door and tossed the backpack and Sara’s suitcase into the backseat, then I changed my mind.

  I didn’t want Syl’s backpack in the car.

  Having his suitcase was dangerous enough. It didn’t seem smart to drive around with a bag full of his clothes, which might link us back to him. All we needed from the backpack was the twenty thousand.

  Everything else of his cou
ld go.

  Except the gun.

  Sara wasn’t going to be happy about that, but as long as we had the money, I was keeping the gun.

  I’d get rid of it once we got to Reno.

  I reached in and grabbed the backpack off the backseat When I did, I saw Zack step out of his room and onto the porch. He saw me then waved and started walking down the steps toward the car.

  “Fuck.”

  I bent down and shoved the backpack as far under the driver’s seat as it would go, then I stepped back and closed the door.

  When Zack got close, I said, “How’s your truck?”

  He shook his head. “That was a disaster, wasn’t it? I wanted to prove her wrong, but not like that. Looks like I’ve got to come up with the cash for a new tire.”

  “Sorry to hear it.”

  “You know, I needed new ones anyway. This was just God telling me to get moving on it.” He pointed to the car. “What’s this?”

  “I’m loading the car.”

  He looked at me. “You decided to leave after all?”

  “Just getting ready.”

  “I see,” he said. “I hope you stay long enough to have that drink. What about later tonight?”

  I told him I’d agreed to watch Syl.

  Zack shook his head. “The queen’s idea, am I right?”

  I told him he was.

  “That woman.” He shook his head. “Well, how about now? You can grab your girlfriend and finish this later.”

  I opened my mouth to tell him no, then I thought about him writing down our license plate number, and I knew I’d have to talk to him eventually. With Sara locking herself in the bathroom, I figured now was as good a time as any.

  It’d been years, but right then, a drink sounded pretty damn good.

  “Give me a minute,” I said. “I’ll head over.”

  When I went back inside, Sara was still in the bathroom. I knocked on the door and said, “I’ll be back in a while.”

  At first, nothing, then I heard the lock slide away.

  The door opened a few inches.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To talk to Zack. I want to get this over with, find out what he knows.” I paused. “Sara, I really thought I was doing the right thing for you and the baby, for us. I didn’t think—”

  She slammed the bathroom door and locked it.

  I stood for a moment and stared at the closed door. I could feel the muscles in my chest get tight, and I fought the urge to say something else. I knew if I did, I’d never be able to take it back, so I kept quiet.