The Book of Apex: Volume 2 of Apex Magazine

by Jason Sizemore

  Margot awoke to cold blackness and throbbing inside her head, blissfully unaware of her surroundings until she sat up and her feet touched the frigid hardwood floor. With the realization came panic. She frantically patted the bed, hoping to find Billy sleeping next to her, but nothing lay beside her save for the sweater and damp jeans she’d worn on the ride up. She felt for the lamp on the night table and turned the switch, eliciting a loud click and nothing more. She turned the switch again, and again, the anxiety swelling within her.

  “Billy?” she called.

  There was no reply, just a distant penetrating whine, and a rhythmic, muffled crunch that came from below. Margot stood and fumbled through the darkness toward the dim light that bled in from beneath the door. She wrapped herself in her robe and stepped out into the loft. She could see Linda down in the living room, sitting on the couch and flanked on either side by her daughters. A Coleman propane lamp burned on the table in front of them; the source of the high-pitched drone Margot had heard from the bedroom. She hurried down the stairs and along the hall into the living room.

  “Did we lose power?” Margot asked, her breath hanging in the air before her.

  Linda nodded and offered Margot a tight, quivering smile. Rob sat on the ottoman, sweat-slicked and breathless, and cradling his head in his hands. His overstuffed jacket lay drying in front of the fireplace; a single log smoldered within it.

  The front door was ajar and, through the gap, a pile of slush and snow spilled into the room. The two large windows above and on either side of the door, however, were grey and opaque.

  “Where’s Billy?” Margot asked.

  Rob didn’t look up. He just pointed at the door. She went to it, the snow crunching beneath her bare feet.

  Beyond the door lay a long, ice-blue trench that ascended at least six feet before meeting a roiling dark sky. At the peak, Billy, caked in snow and a shovel hanging over his shoulder, stood screaming silently into the wind.

  5

  A box of Cheerios, six bagels, a small package of frozen chicken nuggets, five cans of Spaghetti-O’s, and two bags of salt and vinegar potato chips. Those, along with the plate of leftovers from the night before, various sweeteners and condiments left behind by previous tenants, and an energy bar Rob had stashed into his overnight bag, were laid out on the kitchen table before them.

  “That’s it?” Billy asked.

  “That’s it,” Rob said. “We figured we’d do groceries with you this morning. This was just…stuff from home. Stuff for the kids…” His voice trailed off and tears welled in his eyes.

  Billy peered back into the living room. Linda was sleeping on the couch, and Maxie and Quinn were sitting in front of the fire bickering over whose turn it was with the Nintendo DS, and Margot was standing at the front door, holding her cell phone aloft trying to get a signal.

  “So what the hell do we do, Rob?” Billy whispered.

  Rob raked his hands down his face and sighed. “I’m gonna go for help,” he said. “I’ve got my skis. I can bushwalk back down to the main road. I don’t know; maybe it’s not as bad as the mountain.”

  “No,” Billy shook his head. “Fuck that. We should wait…”

  “Wait for what, Billy?” Rob asked. “For help? You saw it out there. No one knows we’re here. No one is coming. We’ve got, like, three logs left. After that, we’ll have to start burning the fucking furniture. And this…” Rob motioned toward the table. “This won’t last more than a few days. A week at most.”

  “At least wait for the weather to clear,” Billy pleaded.

  “We don’t know when that will happen, Billy. It could get a lot worse before it gets better. I…can’t take that chance. Not…not with the girls.”

  “Fine. Then I’ll go,” Billy said.

  Rob laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

  “What? I’m younger, and I’m in better shape than you,” Billy said.

  “Younger, yes. Better shape?” Rob smirked. “That’s debatable. Either way, I’m the better skier. It just makes more sense this way.”

  Billy sighed. His brother was right. He hadn’t tackled anything more challenging than the bunny slope since he was a teenager. Skiing had always been Rob’s forte.

  “Look. It’s only a few miles to the main road.” Rob said. “I’ll go; I’ll see what I see and, if I don’t find help, I’ll turn right around. If I leave now, I can be back before nightfall.”

  Billy ground his fists into his eyes and groaned.

  “Trust me, little brother. I’ve got to do this.” Rob rested his beefy hands on Billy’s shoulders. “C’mon. I want to show you something.”

  Billy followed Rob down the hall to his bedroom. They stepped inside, and Rob closed the door behind them. He moved to the other side of the bed and knelt behind it. When he resurfaced, he held a square plastic case, which he placed on the bed. He pulled a small key off of his key ring, opened the box, and turned it toward Billy.

  “Jesus, Rob!”

  “It’s a beauty, ain’t it?” Rob pulled the Khar 9mm out of its case and handed it to Billy. “Don’t worry. It’s not loaded.”

  “Yeah, famous last words,” Billy muttered, as he took the weapon. It was surprisingly light, not that Billy had much experience with guns. “When did you get this? Fuck. Why did you get this?”

  “It’s not mine,” Rob said. “It’s Linda’s.”

  Billy shot him a quizzical look. “Why the hell would Linda need a gun?”

  “There was an incident a few months ago. Nothing major. Just some punks. Made off with her purse, and… well…it shook her up pretty good. We thought…” Rob waved his hands. “It’s not important. I wanted you to know that it’s here. You know; just in case.”

  “In case of what?” Billy asked, handing the gun back to him. “In case you don’t come back?”

  Rob shrugged. “I don’t know, Billy. Just…just know it’s here.” Rob locked the gun back in the box and put the key in the nightstand drawer. “If push comes to shove, Linda will know what to do. Hell, she’s a better shot than I am.” Rob laughed and slipped the box back under the bed.

  “All right,” he said. “I’m going to get ready.”

  Rob stomped through the living room, his ski boots gouging the tile floor. Billy carried his brother’s skis and poles and Maxie’s Dora the Explorer backpack. Margot helped Rob slip into his coat, and Maxie handed him his gloves. Quinn held his hat. Linda was still in the bedroom, crying hysterically, as she had been ever since Rob had told her he was going.

  Rob knelt and pulled the girls toward him, squeezing them hard.

  “Daddy, you’re crushing me,” Maxie said.

  “Me too,” Quinn cried.

  “I’m sorry, guys.” Rob planted a kiss on both their heads. “Daddy just loves you both so much. You know that, right?”

  The girls nodded in unison, and Rob smiled. “Now I’ve got to go, and I might be gone a while, but I’ll be back.”

  “You promise?” Maxie asked.

  “I promise,” he said. “Now you guys behave, okay?”

  “We will daddy,” Maxie said.

  “Can you get us batteries for our Nintendo?” Quinn asked.

  “I’ll see what I can do, honey.” Rob stood and looked to Billy, tears welling in his eyes. He pulled his hat down over his ears, strapped on his goggles, and grabbed the ski poles from Billy. “Okay, let’s do this.”

  Billy nodded and opened the door. The sky had darkened considerably, and at least another foot of snow had fallen since they’d finished shoveling out the trench barely an hour earlier. Rob started through the door, and Margot grabbed his hand.

  “Good luck,” she said. She kissed him on the cheek.

  “Watch out for them,” Rob said. He nodded over his shoulder toward Billy and winked. “All of them.”

  Rob bounded up the steep incline, and Billy followed, laying out the skis when they reached the top. Rob planted his poles in the snow on either side of him, locked his boots into
the bindings, and propelled himself forward a couple of feet.

  Billy opened the backpack and pulled out the bundle of shredded fabric he’d made from a day-glo orange fleece he’d brought with him. “Tie one of these to a branch every so often,” he shouted above the wind. “To mark your route. “

  Rob laughed. “You’re not nearly as dumb as you look, you know that?” He took the backpack and slung it over his shoulder.

  “I threw that energy bar in there, too,” Billy said. “Just in case.”

  “Yeah, just in case,” Rob said. He pulled up his poles, grinned, and pushed himself forward. “Leave a light on for me,” he shouted, as he vanished into the squall.

  Billy waved, knowing then that it would be the last time he would see his brother.

  6

  On Christmas Eve, Margot decorated the fireplace with candles and some of the ornaments Linda and Rob had brought up with them. The girls’ stockings were hung from the mantle, a single sleeve of fruit leather in each. Linda had left all the gifts in the Land Rover, so Margot had wrapped a couple of pieces of her own jewelry in the pages from a tattered copy of Life magazine and placed them on the mantle above each of their stockings.

  Quinn wolfed down her dinner—a quarter can of Spaghetti-O’s and half of a stale bagel. Maxie only ate a few bites, and set the rest down on the coffee table.

  “Can I have it?” Quinn asked.

  Maxie shrugged. She hadn’t said a word since the night her father had left. Quinn happily finished off what was left in Maxie’s bowl and then sat back on the couch.

  Billy broke down another kitchen chair and threw the legs onto the fire.

  “Did you talk to her?” Margot asked “What’d she say?”

  Billy shook his head. “She didn’t say anything.”

  Margot took him into the kitchen, out of earshot of the girls. “Linda hasn’t eaten a thing in three days, Billy,” she said. “She’s hasn’t even come out of her room.”

  “Can you blame her?” Billy snapped.

  Margot saw anger in his eyes. She held his face in her hands. “Billy, I…I can’t even imagine what she’s feeling. What you’re feeling. But those two little girls need their mother right now, and she needs to know that.”

  Billy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ll see what I can do,” he said.

  As if on cue, Linda emerged from the darkness of the hallway, holding a small, flickering candle, her eyes were almost swollen shut and her face was smeared with mascara.

  “Linda, I…” Margot started.

  “I just thought I’d come get the girls,” Linda said. “Give you two some time alone.”

  “Why don’t we all sit in front of the fire for awhile?” Billy asked. “We’ve still got a bottle of wine left.”

  Linda’s eyes drifted to the girls on the couch. “No, that’s all right. Really. I…I’d like to be with my babies. You two should be alone.”

  “C’mon Linda, don’t be silly,” Billy said. “None of us should be…”

  Linda ignored him. “Maxie. Quinn. Come with mommy .”

  “But I wanna open presents,” Quinn cried.

  “You know we never open presents until Christmas Day,” Linda said. “Now you two come along. Let’s leave Uncle Billy and Auntie Margot be for a while.”

  Quinn pouted, as she shuffled past her. Maxie drifted by in silence.

  “Can I get you anything?” Margot asked.

  A weak smile crept across Linda’s face. “No,” she said. “They’re all I need right now.”

  “Okay,” Margot replied. “Well, just let me know if…”

  Linda turned and shuffled up the hallway.

  Billy put an arm around Margot’s waist and walked her back into the living room. He sat on the couch and pulled her down next to him. She rested her head on his chest and listened to his stomach bubble and growl. He hadn’t been eating either. He told her it was because he was trying to conserve food, but she knew better. He was as crushed by the loss of Rob as was Linda; he was just better at hiding it. Or at least he thought he was.

  They sat in silence for awhile, staring at the fire, and then Margot sat up and slapped Billy on the thigh. “I know,” she said. “Let’s open presents.”

  “What? Now?” Billy asked. “No, c’mon. Let’s just…let’s wait until morning, okay?”

  “I want to give you yours now,” Margot persisted. She grabbed the flashlight from the end table and shone the light at Billy. “I promise, you’ll love it.”

  He leaned his head back, threw up his hands, and smiled. “Fine,” he said. “You’ve piqued my curiosity.”

  “Just give me a minute,” she said. “And no peeking!”

  Margot tiptoed up the hall, pausing outside Linda’s room along the way. A dull light spilled out from under the door; from beyond the door, she heard a gentle rustling and a high-pitched snore. Margot smiled and padded up the stairs to the loft and into their room. She aimed the flashlight around until she found her suitcase; she then hoisted it onto the bed. She rummaged around inside until she found the black Victoria’s Secret bag, and emptied the contents—a sexy-cute satin Santa skirt, matching red bra, and Santa hat—onto the bed.

  Until a few minutes ago, sex had been the farthest thing from her mind but, as she’d lain with Billy on the couch, basking in his warmth and mesmerized by the lapping flames, she’d felt a strange urgency, an urgency unlike anything she’d ever felt before.

  She needed him.

  It wasn’t entirely sexual. She needed to feel that closeness, that connection. She needed to get lost in it and let the feelings take her to another place somewhere far from the pain and the grief and the fear, if only for a few moments.

  And she knew he needed it, too. Perhaps now more than ever.

  Margot propped the flashlight up against the suitcase and stripped down to her panties. Her nipples stiffened the instant the chill air hit them, and the goose bumps followed. She wedged herself into the form-fitting skirt, and slipped into the bra. As she fumbled for the clasp, a whip-like crack shattered the stillness.

  “Billy?” Margot cried.

  She grabbed the flashlight, and ran out into the loft. She heard footfalls below, and rushed down the stairs into the hall.

  “Jesus, Billy, what was that?”

  Billy pounded on Linda’s door. “It’s locked,” he shouted. “Goddamn it, Linda, open the door!”

  There was another loud snap, followed by a muffled thud. Billy stepped back and kicked the door, splintering the jamb. He kicked it again. This time the hinges gave and the door fell inward.

  Margot shone the flashlight into the room.

  Quinn’s body rested face down on the bed, arms by her side, a crimson soaked sheet draped over her head. Maxie lay across the threshold, her dark hair matted to her face; blood from a dime-sized hole in her forehead trickled into a slowly expanding pool beneath her. Linda stood in the corner, eyes shut, head hung to one side. She hummed softly and tugged at the front of her blood spattered nightgown with one hand. The pistol was in the other.

  “Linda, please!” Billy shouted. “Give me the gun.”

  A manic smile spread across Linda’s face, and her eyes snapped open.

  “We’re going to be a family again,” she said.

  And, with that, she put the gun barrel in her mouth and pulled the trigger.

  7

  Billy dragged Linda’s body up the trench, rested it beside the girls, and began to dig three shallow graves in the ice. By the time he’d finished, nature had already claimed the bodies, coating them in two inches of fresh snow. He decided to leave them as they were, so planted the markers—three hastily assembled crosses fashioned from strips of fabric and the spindles from the back of a kitchen chair—in front of each smooth, white mound.

  Margot clambered out of the trench and stood beside him. She grabbed his hand and bowed her head.

  Billy wanted to say something—anything—but words eluded him. Instead, he found his at
tention drawn back toward the chalet. The snow had reached the upper windows, obscuring all but the peak and the chimney. The twenty-foot pines that dotted the property appeared to be reduced to the size of saplings. Only their tips poked through the icy crust.

  In a matter of days, everything would be buried and, by then, they’d be out of food, out of firewood, just plain out of options.

  Billy stared down at the shapeless mounds that formed before him, and wondered if Linda had had the right idea.

  8

  New Year’s Eve came and went. There was no countdown, no midnight toast, only a long, desperate kiss as they clung to each other, naked beneath a pile of blankets, and watched the last of the cabinet doors go up in flames.

  “I love you,” Margot said, her sunken eyes glistening in the firelight.

  “I love you, too,” he said.

  He caressed her sunken cheeks, kissed her again, and lifted her up onto him. Margot gasped softly in his ear as she wrapped her legs around his waist and took him inside of her, their bodies shuddering in unison as they made love one final time.

  9

  Margot died on January 5th.

  Billy had gotten up early that day and, after a breakfast consisting of a handful of Cheerios and several cups of water spent the morning shoveling out the trench (which, at that point, had become more of a cave). At around 10:00 AM, he noticed that the sky had lightened and the snowing had slowed considerably. An hour later, it stopped altogether.

  Billy threw down the shovel and scrambled up to the mouth of the trench, and what he saw caused him to drop to his knees.

  Beyond a sea of rolling white hills and dwarfed pines, Mount Washington lay bathed in a shaft of golden sunlight, framed by the bluest sky Billy had ever seen. Shadows danced across the valley as the clouds raced eastward, leaving nothing but clear skies in their wake.

  Billy howled and pumped his fists. He jumped back into the trench, sliding down on his backside, and threw open the door.

  Margot lay amidst a pile of blankets, her hair draped over her face. He knelt down beside her and squeezed her shoulder.

  “Margot, honey,” he said. “You’ve got to see this.”