Read Chapter One Here

(This is an advance review copy. Remaining errors will be corrected).

Michael

—

Michael had seen snow this bad before, but that didn’t make navigating through it easier.

The Appalachian terrain forced the luxury SUV to work hard just to stay on the roads. Or at least where he thought the roads were. Couldn’t be sure. Most were unpaved except for the main routes. And in hick country, there wasn’t a snowplow that would touch them.

The GPS on his cell phone had taken him into the center of no-man’s-land and then dropped its signal. Every house he passed was a mile away from the last. Rusted cars were scattered across many of the properties. Huge volumes of smoke poured from brick stacks. The smell of fire lingered in the crisp air.

Michael tried rubbing the windshield with his coat sleeve. No help. It was fogged with snow that stuck and froze instantaneously. The side windows were the only ones clear enough to see through. He cranked up the heat.

“Maybe we should pull over,” Kelly said.

“And do what? The forecast said it’ll be like this all night.”

“I can’t see a thing.”

“Neither can I, but if we stop, we’ll get stuck.”

Kelly, her blonde hair poking out from under her black cap, leaned forward and stared out the front window. “How far are we from the house?”

“Goddamn it, Kelly. I don’t know. My phone’s not working for shit right now,” he said, punching his fingers against the mounted display.

“Don’t say that.”

“What? Damn?”

“Are you going to talk like that in front of the kids?”

“It’s just—I haven’t had data in over an hour.”

“You still don’t have to cuss.”

He shook his head. It wasn’t just the snow or the phone. It was the whole week ahead. He loved his sister. Truly did. His niece and nephew were stand-up kids. But her husband…

Elise had been with him for about two decades, for reasons that escaped him. Sean was always spouting right-wing nonsense. To Sean, the world was always ending. This economy. That weather system. Mega tsunami. The government. It was exhausting. Knowing Sean, he was probably one of those dipshits who thought every major terrorist attack was orchestrated by the government. If it weren’t for Kelly wanting to visit, he would never subject himself to a week with his sister’s crazy husband. He had more important things back home.

“Oh, we got a signal,” Kelly said, clapping her hands.

Michael kept his eyes on the road. “About time. We’re close?”

“Yep. Turn right at the next intersection. Go one mile and there’s a slight left. Should be another mile after that.”

He eased the car toward the intersection, checked both ways, and turned onto the road. His tires gripped the paved surface, skidded, gripped again, and they were off. It was a minor miracle that the road was paved, even if it wasn’t plowed well. They cruised atop the icy surface, barely able to see more than a few feet into the dark.

“We just passed into Pennsylvania,” Kelly said.

“And to the land of guns and God we go.”

A few minutes later, the car crawled to a stop in the Cain’s driveway. He put the gear into park and pulled the emergency brake just in case. Slumped his shoulders.

“Try to behave,” his wife said.

Michael looked over at her as the interior car light dimmed to black. “Of course.”

She planted a kiss on his lips and held it there. “Please.”

“Do I get a reward if I do?”

“Michael—”

“We might freeze into a block of ice trying to get naked,” he said. If their last visit was any sign, Sean would keep the thermostat at thirty-nine degrees Fahrenheit. Roughly.

“If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say it at all,” she said, poking at her phone. “No more data or cell service again.”

“Their house is a dead zone.”

“We can get the Wi-Fi password later,” she said, looking into his eyes. “I mean it. Behave, okay?” He nodded, and she opened the door to the outside.

The wind kicked up and rushed against her, trying to force the door shut. She yelped, stood up, and almost slipped on the icy driveway. Bless her heart. Michael loved his wife. She was a sweet woman, but naïve. She didn’t see what he saw in others. Most people didn’t.

He opened his door and braved the cold air. He met Kelly at the front of the car, most of her legs below the surface of the snow. “They’ll get our bags, right?” she asked.

“They don’t run a concierge service, honey.”

“I don’t want to come back out.”

They trudged through the deep snow toward the front porch. The chimney cranked out gray smoke driven away sharply by the wind. The sides of the porch were hemmed with hard, translucent plastic sheets intended to block the snow drift. Two giant pines towered in front of the three-story home. The wind whipped the branches wildly. Michael threw the porch door open and motioned Kelly through. Once inside, he fought with the door, the wind tugging in opposition, until it latched. He stared at his wife, her cheeks flushed. Their breath floated in a static calm. He pounded the front door and waited.

Here goes nothing.

Aidan opened the door and beamed. “Hey, Uncle Mike,” he said.

Poor kid. He seemed smaller than the last time they had visited. “How are you?”

“Good.” He turned his face toward Kelly, though he didn’t meet her eyes. “Hey, Aunt Kelly.”

The boy acted shyer around his aunt. Beauty does that to guys—even little ones. “It’s good to see you, little man,” she said and extended her arms. He fell into them with an embarrassed smirk, and she held him tight. “I think you’ve grown since the last time I saw you.”

Aidan broke away and opened the door wider for them. They stepped onto a small linoleum square in the living room that housed a myriad of boots and shoes. The house had a homely feel with a strong redneck influence. There was light wood paneling on the lower half of the walls and painted drywall above. A buck’s head was mounted near the dining room. A fireplace roared in the corner, a chainmail screen pulled tight in front. Very homely. Very redneck.

“I wasn’t expecting you all so early,” his sister said, emerging from the kitchen. She turned to Aidan. “Hey, turn the TV off.”

“But there’s this thing—”

“Aidan, please.”

Aidan glowered and zapped the TV off a few seconds later.

Dark circles surrounded Elise’s eyes, her wrinkles set in more since the last time he had seen her. Her hair was coiled in a loose bun, her apron caked with powder. He frowned. She had clearly been slaving away in the kitchen without help. Sean had better things to do, apparently.

“I’m so sorry. I’m not even showered yet,” Elise said.

“You’re fine,” Michael said.

She came forward and gave Kelly and Michael a brief hug. “It’s good to see you two.” Silence. “Can I take your coats?”

As they removed their layers and boots, Michael spotted Sean emerging from the den to his right. Time to put on the act. To behave, as his wife said. Sean extended his hand to Michael. “I thought the weather would’ve slowed you guys down. Good to see you,” he said, smiling.

Michael took his hand and forced a smile in return. He hated the pleasantries, the fake veneer of kindness he slathered on to make these visits palatable. It was phony, but expected. He didn’t want to touch Sean’s hand and act like everything was all right. Like Sean didn’t deserve a punch in his smug face.

Punching wasn’t expected though. Can’t go against expectations.

“We made it here just fine.”

They broke their handshake. Sean stuck his hands in his pockets. “Kelly,” he said with a nod.

Sean’s gaze lingered on her for a moment. Jealousy there. Not that his sister wasn’t a great woman—she was—but every guy got that way around Kelly. They got to thinking about what-ifs, like it was high school and everyone was dreaming of bagging the prom queen. Michael had gotten her, and everyone else reeked of envy.

“You got something on your face,” Sean said, pointing at Kelly.

There was a gray streak across her cheek, like she had been to an Ash Wednesday service and the priest was drunk.

Sean said, “Sometimes the ash falls down from the chimney.”

“There’s some on Michael’s coat too,” Elise said.

He looked down at his coat. The jacket was speckled. Strange.

“I’ll get a wet paper towel,” Elise said, and grabbed Sean’s bicep. “And I could really use that can from the reserves, sweetheart.”

Sean excused himself. Before disappearing into the kitchen, he turned back toward Michael. “Would you like to see it?”

“See what?”

“Just come on.”

Michael didn’t let it show in his face, but he wished he could refuse. One fewer moment with Sean was one fewer moment he had to concern himself with saying something inappropriate.

It wasn’t expected though. To refuse.

Pleasantries.

—

The concrete steps under their feet may as well have been made of ice. They descended the staircase into a dark, cold cellar. The walls were a smooth gray stone, and the floor was concrete at the landing. A chill hung in the air—not as bad as outside, but enough so that he had to wrap his arms around himself.

Sean walked ahead of him into the middle of the room and pulled a cord hanging from the ceiling. The light swayed and illuminated the space with a weak, yellow glow that left most of the basement crevices shrouded in darkness. Glass jars reflected the light like thousands of glistening eyes. They filled shelves on every wall, floor to ceiling. Sean looked back at him with a grin of self-satisfaction.

While not as dirty as he had expected, the cellar seemed to Michael like a dark, serial killer nightmare. He couldn’t tell what the jars contained, but he imagined human fetuses and horse hooves.

“We got into canning since you last came up. Elise has an organic garden outside—well, not right now with the winter, obviously—but we’ve been canning, jarring, dry-packing things up just in case.”

Michael approached a shelf and picked up a jar. “Canning what?”

“You can preserve just about anything. Vegetables, meat, fruit. Some of it’s from the stores too.”

“Horse hooves?”

“I don’t know why you’d want that.”

“I’m just poking fun. Lighten up.”

Sean laughed, but it puttered out within a second.

Michael said, “So how much do you have down here?”

“Never enough.”

“But how much?”

Sean clicked on a small LED flashlight from his pocket and washed the light over the shelves. “For my family, about two-and-a-half years worth. By next year we hope to bump that number up, but we also have to make sure we use up what we have before it goes bad.”

Michael perused the shelf, picking up an item or two and setting it back down. “You planning on getting snowed in or something?”

“I’m planning for anything.”

“Anything?”

“You never know.”

“I know I’m unlikely to need two-and-a-half years worth of food.”

“Maybe, maybe not. It’s better to be prepared in my view.”

“Well, if anything happens, I’ll make sure to come to you guys first.”

Sean stared back at him but said nothing. He always had a deadly serious look on his face when he talked about his paranoid fantasies. Michael didn’t prod him. It was best to play the role of buddy at Sean’s place. Things went much smoother.

A blinking light in the corner caught his eye. “What’s that?”

“A camera. Motion-operated. Battery-powered. It can run for months without me having to touch it. Feeds to my cell via bluetooth if I want. No cell service required.”

He shook his head.

“Listen, I know how you feel,” Sean said. “About me.”

So there it was. The real reason for coming down here. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

“It’ll be a long week and I want to keep things civilized.”

“Who said we wouldn’t be civilized?”

“I never said we wouldn’t. But I want to make sure we will.”

“I plan on having a pleasant week with my family. How about you?”

Sean stared at him. “You have nothing you want to say?”

He looked him straight in the face though the light was behind Sean now, his features concealed in silhouette. “There’s nothing to talk about,” Michael said.

“Sure?”

“Positive.” He put on his lawyer smile, with all the charm. Sean opened his mouth but nothing came out. Michael put his hands on his hips, sweeping his eyes up and down the shelves and then back to Sean. “Do we need something down here?”

“Chicken stock.”

Michael grabbed a can. “Right in front of me.”

He tossed it to his brother-in-law. Sean caught it and motioned for Michael to lead the way upstairs. As he went, Michael could almost feel Sean’s eyes glued to his back.

Like they were burrowing.

—

Molly was in the kitchen at the top of the stairs. “Hey, Uncle Mike,” she said, hugging him.

“It’s good to see you,” he said and pulled away.

“Was my dad down there with you?” As soon as Sean emerged in the doorway, his daughter said, “Can Andrew stay for dinner?”

Sean became rigid, so Michael pressed in. “Who’s Andrew?”

“Andrew’s my—”

“Friend,” Sean said. “Her—boyfriend.”

Michael kept himself from grinning. Molly said, “Can he?”

“I don’t know, Molls. We don’t get to see your family very often.”

“Mom said it was okay.”

Sean made eye contact with his wife across the room. Michael always found it amazing what he could discover in those brief, nonverbal exchanges. The look in Sean’s eyes read that he wanted his wife’s blessing to say no, but she arched her eyebrows and tipped her head down just a grade. A short conversation. No words.

Sean turned back to his daughter with the defeated look of a man used to getting his way. “I don’t know. Your uncle and aunt have traveled a long way. I think it’d be better just to visit with them for the night.”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Michael said. “I’d liked to meet him.”

Sean smiled instead of bursting with anger. “Sure. We’ll set another place at the table.”

Pleasantries were always expected.

Photo by Aditya Vyas on Unsplash