A Cold White Fear (15 page)

I
wiggled my fingers. They moved. I could even slide my wrists up and down.

“Thanks, Jid,” I whispered into his ear. “Feels good, but that's enough. If you loosen them further, Professor might notice.”

Relief. My hands tingled with the spreading return of sensation.

“The guy who talks funny scares me,” he said.

“Me too. Stay close to Professor. He'll make sure Slobodan doesn't hurt you.”

He hesitated. “I guess.”

“What are you two whispering about?” Larry suddenly spoke up, causing Jid to jump away from me. He landed on Shoni's tail. She yelped. Lifting her up, he hastened back to his armchair.

“We were talking about Slobodan. He really scares us.” I tested my hands and felt with some aggressive tugging they would eventually slip loose.

“Nope, you don't want to mess with him. He ain't called Tiger for nothing. Says he was mixed up in some war back home. Did a lot of killing. I hear he got into plenty of fights at Millhaven. Spent a lot of time in solitary.”

“I thought you escaped from another prison.”

“Yeah, Joyceville. I guess he cleaned up his act and got transferred to medium. He's quick with the fists when the hacks ain't looking. Most of us stay clear of him.”

“He couldn't have cleaned up that much if he was dealing heroin.”

“Yeah, well, you know how it goes. A lot of things the hacks don't know about.”

“How long is he in for?”

“Came in a couple of years ago. He's a lifer, like me. He's got a ways to go before he comes up for parole.”

“Sounds like a good reason to escape.”

“Yeah, but he didn't escape for that.”

“What other reason would he have?”

“Lots.” He flicked his eyes in the direction of the living room to the murmur of voices. “But I can't tell you. Professor'd get mad.”

“Fine. Tell me what you know about the Serb?”

“Not much. He's an enforcer for the Devils.”

“Like the bikers on TV?” Jid piped up. “Does he shoot people, stick their feet in cement, and throw them into the river so no one can find their bodies?”

“They must've found one body, otherwise he wouldn't have ended up in jail,” I quipped.

“Professor says someone snitched on Tiger. It's why he wanted to escape. Wants to waste the guy.”

“Does the man live around here? Is that your reason for coming to this area?”

Larry glanced again toward the voices, which had raised a decibel. “I don't know where the snitch lives. Probably Montreal. Tiger's from there.”

“So you have another reason for coming here?”

“Un-hunh,” he grunted, keeping his lips firmly closed. He wasn't about to divulge anything more.

“Man, I gotta pee.” Larry carefully pushed himself into a seated position and then inched his legs around and onto the floor. He held his stomach as if worried its contents might spill out. “Jeez, that hurts.”

“Jid, he needs the bedpan. Can you get it?”

“Nah, I don't want to use that. I'm feeling all cramped inside. I need to stretch my legs. Can you help me up, kid?”

Jid moved over to the sofa and stood in front of the injured man.

“I'm not sure you can manage the stairs,” I said. “They're pretty steep.”

“Sure I can, eh, kid?” With one hand clinging to Jid's arm, he struggled to stand up but barely lifted off the couch before collapsing in pain.

“Jid, you better get the bedpan.”

“No, I'm gonna do this. Professor's always telling me I'm too quick to give in. I need to stick with it, so this time I'm gonna.” He braced himself. “Turn around, Jid. That's it. Don't move while I put my hands on your shoulders.”

He grunted and groaned while he eased himself upward into a standing position. Despite the pull of the man's weight, the boy remained firm.

“Ahhhh, there I done it.” He smiled broadly at his achievement. Clutching his abdomen, he straightened up as best he could. “Hurts, but it's a good hurt. Come on. Let's try walking.”

Gripping Jid's shoulder, he took a couple of trial steps. “There, that ain't so bad. A strong hockey player like you can get me up those stairs, eh?”

“I guess.” Though the look on Jid's face would suggest otherwise.

“You should get Professor to help you,” I advised.

“Nah, Jid and me can do it, eh? We'll show those two jerks what a couple of pipsqueaks can do.”

Despite the age difference, the injured man was almost as slight as the boy and little more than a head taller.

The two of them shuffled past me toward the door. “I don't think a fall would do you any good. Be careful.”

“We're good,” he replied before they turned, albeit a bit shakily, toward the stairs.

Within seconds of hearing their first tentative footsteps on the wooden stairs, the tattooed man strode past the open door toward them. “You should've called me, P'tit Chief.” This was immediately followed by a much firmer tread.

Jid returned, rubbing his shoulder. “I could've done it.”

“I know, and Larry thought so too, but Professor's his special buddy. It's good you let him take over.”

“Didn't give me much choice. He pushed me away. Almost made me fall.”

“Did he hurt you?”

“Nah, not really. My shoulder's a little sore where he shoved me. He's pretty strong, isn't he? Maybe he lifts weights. If I did, do you think my muscles would get bigger?” He lifted his arms in strongman stance and tried to make his biceps rise a little higher. “Make me a better hockey player.”

“Perhaps, but there's one thing you have over the bigger players, and that's speed. I'd practise skating if I were you. Become like Wayne Gretzky.”

“Yah, that's what Shome tells me to do.” Jid squeezed each of his biceps in turn. “Not very big, are they? I gotta do something.”

“You could eat spinach, like Popeye.”

“Who's he?”

“A cartoon character with big, bulging muscles who used to eat spinach to make them grow bigger.”

“I hate spinach.” He tested his biceps again. “If I had bigger muscles, I could fight these guys.”

“I'm sure you'd get in a few good blows, but the best way to handle them is doing what we're doing. Nothing.”

He shrugged. “I guess. I wish they'd go.”

“Keep telling yourself they'll be gone in the morning.”

“I sure wish Shome was here. He'd kick these guys out.”

“And could get hurt in the process. To tell you the truth, I'm very glad he isn't here. They'd see him as too big a threat and would try to neutralize him.”

“Like tying him to a chair?”

“Likely worse.”

Jid gingerly touched his cheek where it was swollen and red. “I guess we kind of look the same, eh?”

I felt my own swollen face. “We could be bookends. Mine hurts a little. How about yours?”

“Not much. I get hurt worse playing hockey. Sure hope these guys go so I can play tonight.”

“I hope so too.” I felt the cold spread its tentacles down my back and around my waist. “Could you make sure the blanket is completely wrapped around me?”

He tugged at my wrists and whispered, “The rope is really loose. I think you can get out of it now.”

“Thanks. I'll stay like this until I need to be free. Okay?”

“But we can escape, right now.” His face shone with renewed hope.

I hated to disappoint him. “It's not safe. They'd kill us before we had our snowshoes on.”

Maybe we did have a chance if we tried now, while both men were occupied elsewhere. But I no longer had it in me to try another escape. I was too frightened of what they would do to us. As if to reinforce my cowardice, pain shot through the side of my face from the cheekbone to my chin. I winced. “Could you cover my hands with the blanket so they don't notice the ropes?”

I sensed his frustration as he wrapped the blanket around me, mummy style. “We'll do it later, when Professor and Slobodan are sound asleep, okay?

“Yah, sure.” He didn't believe me.

He stomped over to the fireplace and threw a couple of logs onto the hot coals with more force than was needed. He stared at the renewed flame before turning back to me. “We're using up a lot of wood. I better get more.”

“No, you stay here. Let them worry about it. Just make yourself comfortable, and when they return pretend you're asleep.”

“Okay.” He nestled into the chair's deep cushions and was tucking the blanket under his chin when he suddenly sat up. “Where's Shoni?”

He searched every dark corner in the room, peered in and under the chairs and sofa. He even lifted up Larry's blanket to see if she was taking advantage of its warmth. “I can't find her.”

“Check in the kitchen. She might've returned to her crate.”

As he walked to the doorway, Slobodan's face, lip curled, loomed through the darkness. “Lose something?”

From his upraised hand, he dangled a limp Shoni by the scruff of her neck.

“Y
ou
killed my dog!” I cried out. Grinning maliciously, he slowly waggled her lifeless body back and forth.

I tried to detect signs of life and saw none. My poor, poor innocent puppy. It took all my control not to burst my bounds and throttle the man. But I knew if I did, I would be dead, and where would that leave Jid?

“Auntie, she's not dead,” the boy said in a low voice. “See, she's moving.”

Her back twisted, as if she was trying to break free.

“You're hurting her.” Jid reached up and tried to remove her.

But the man refused to let go, so it became a tug of war, with poor Shoni being the rope stretched between the two of them. When the boy realized what was happening, he stopped pulling but kept his hands around her so she didn't hang completely free.

“Let her go, you bastard.” The words spilled out before I had a chance to think of the repercussions.

“Maybe I throw her in fire. She taste good,
ne?
” He hobbled over to the fireplace, removed the grate, and held her close to the licking flames.

Jid watched open-mouthed in horror, while I pleaded, “Please, please don't. She's just a little dog. She hasn't done anything to you.”

“What you give me?” He locked his eyes onto my breasts and ran his tongue tauntingly over his lips.

My skin crawled with revulsion.

Shoni squealed and struggled to get loose.

“Set her free, please,” I begged.

Continuing his grip on the puppy, he inched his eyes upward, over my breasts to my face and sneered, “I no like fat women.”

He let go. Jid managed to catch her before she reached the stone hearth. Hugging her tightly against his chest, the boy scrambled to the chair furthest from the guffawing man.

“Please, leave the boy and dog alone,” I said.

He continued to lock on to me with his pale, leering eyes.

Afraid to get into a standoff, I dropped my gaze and turned to Jid. “Is Shoni okay?”

“Just scared. She's really shaking, poor baby.”

“Give her lots of pats from me.”

He nodded and burrowed farther into the chair with the puppy.

The man remained standing with his backside close to the fire. I hoped it scalded him. Finally he muttered, “Too fat,” and flung himself onto the spot where Larry had lain on sofa.

If all it took to keep him from mauling me was some excess body fat, I didn't mind being overweight. Though thanks to my husband's healthy cooking, I'd managed to get rid of a goodly amount of poundage. But over the past few months, with an extra cookie here and the odd piece of chocolate there, my jeans were beginning to feel snug. Lately I'd taken to wearing my old sweatpants because they felt so roomy and comfortable. But they also made me look fat. Right now, I was very thankful I was wearing them.

The biker wrapped the blanket around his shoulders. “Fuckin' cold. I hate this country.”

So why don't you go back to Serbia?
I thought.
We'd sure be better off without you.

“I am not bad man,” Slobodan declared.

Yeah, right.

“Just, how you say, pulling chain like monkey.”

More like intimidation tactics 101. And it was working.

“I got girlfriend. I fuck you, she kill me.”

So bring on the girlfriend.
“I guess she'll be here soon.”

“
Da
. Come in few hours.”

And good riddance to all of you.
“She'd better be using a snowmobile. She won't get in here otherwise.”

“When road get ploughed?”

“Likely in the afternoon at the earliest.”

“Good, we leave before guy plough road. Not good he see us. Not good for you.”

It had never occurred to me to worry that Gerry would be in danger. A friend of Eric's, he'd been doing my road for the last few years and was usually very prompt in removing the snow. I would have to find a way to warn him. But it would be much better if these cons were nothing but a bad memory by the time he rumbled up to my house.

“Nice soft sofa.” He ran his hand up and down the smooth, dark brown leather. “Not like in joint. We have cold hard plastic. I like nice things like these.” He nudged the carpet with his foot. “Good carpet. Old, I think, from Persia. But no worry. You think I want to steal them? I don't steal. Not my job.”

“So what is your job?”

“I make things happen.”

“Is that why you escaped?”

“How you know?”

“Larry said you planned it.”

He swore in Serbian. “Injun know nothing.” He cracked one knuckle and then another.

Shoni, who'd been squirming for the last few minutes, slipped out from under the boy's arm and fell onto the carpet. Before Jid could catch her, she was scampering toward the biker. Annoyed or just plain mean, he aimed a kick at her head but fortunately connected with her rump. Nonetheless, it scared her enough to send her yelping back to her buddy.

“You meanie. Pick on someone your own size,” Jid cried out.

“Kid, you got balls. You like my baby brother when he was little boy. I like you.”

I hoped this liking morphed into not harming. “We're all tired. Why don't we try to get some sleep. Morning will be here soon.”

I kept listening for sounds of the return of the other two. Surely they should be finished by now. But upstairs sounded as quiet as the rest of the house, while outside the deathly calm continued. If the storm really was over, I imagined the big push would be underway to clear the main roads. Maybe Gerry would be arriving sooner than anticipated. If so, I would have to be prepared.

Shoni continued to fuss. The boy was having a difficult time trying to contain her.

“I think you should put her back in her crate.”

Glancing in the direction of the Serb, who for the moment seemed more interested in his fingernails than us, he nodded. “I guess.”

As he passed in front of me, I motioned him closer and whispered. “Write ‘Get police' on a piece of …”

“What you talk about?” Slobodan cut in.

For a moment my mind went blank, then I said the first thing that entered it. “Sorry, I didn't want to disturb you. I was just giving him instructions about the puppy.”

Before the boy moved to leave I mouthed “Window” and jerked my head in the direction of the front of the house, hoping he would understand. For a second incomprehension filled his eyes, and then the twinkle returned. He grinned and ran out of the den with the puppy safely in his arms.

Now all I had to do was to keep the Serbian occupied until Jid put the sign in place.