A Cold White Fear (19 page)

I
had a decision to make. We could stay on this side of the house and go around the back to reach the porch, which was opposite where we were standing, or we could get to it via the front of the house. While the back route would be shorter, it would put us in full view of the living room and kitchen windows. Larry and Professor were in the living room. The risk was too high that Slobo and his girlfriend would end up back in the kitchen and would see us.

I took the front route, though we did have to keep our heads below the height of the verandah railing as we passed the few living room windows that faced the front. Fortunately, the collapsed roof and broken tree blocked most of them.

It was one sweaty and very slow slog, much slower than anticipated. I was tempted to remove the Icelandic sweater by the time we pushed our way up and over the trunk of the downed pine, but I didn't dare in case it slowed us even more. I'd never encountered so much snow in one dump. Everything in sight seemed to be choking under a suffocating layer of meringue. Fir trees, bushes, the woodshed, and other outbuildings had been turned into shapeless white blobs. The only thing identifying my truck was a corner of the rear window, where the wind had whipped away the snow.

Although the snow had stopped, heavy, dense cloud threatened more. I hoped it would hold off until we'd reached safety. My watch said it was close to eight-thirty, late enough to expect some traffic on the main road, traffic that could whisk Jid and me away to the safety of the Migiskan police detachment.

“I can't see my sign very well.” Jid pointed to where the window in Eric's office was partially obscured by the cave-in. I could just make out the words
GET
POLICE
printed in large red letters on a piece of paper taped to the most visible corner.

“Doesn't matter. We won't need it. Can you walk faster?”

“I'll try. But it's hard.” Despite the advantage of my track, he still had to force his way through. “You know, I don't think the snowshoes are gonna work. They'll sink in this stuff. It's way too soft.”

“I was wondering the same thing.”

Since Migiskan Road was already cleared, Gerry could be on his way. When Eric was away, he made a point of ploughing my road before most of his other customers.

“Let's forget the snowshoes and take advantage of the Ski-Doo track.” I pointed to the trench threading its way down the middle of the driveway. “The walking will be easier, and we might run into Gerry.”

“Or maybe we steal the Ski-Doo?” Jid raised his eyebrows in question.

“Why didn't I think of that? But I don't know how to drive one.” I wasn't a big fan of snowmobiles. Too noisy and smelly for my liking.

“I do. My uncle lets me drive his.”

“Okay, you're on. They won't be able to come after us, either.”

We'd rounded the corner of the house and were looking at the snowmobile parked a short distance from the back porch. It looked to be a powerful machine.

“Wow, it's an Arctic Cat. Cool.” Jid's eyes were bright with awe.

“Does that mean it will get us out of here quickly?”

“Yah. It can go 110 klicks.”

“But the key'll be inside with Jo.”

“My uncle always leaves his in the ignition. But if it's not there, I can hotwire it.”

Though I didn't approve, this rather shady skill had proved a lifesaver last summer when I lost my truck keys while we were canoeing on a nearby river. “Let's pick up our pace. I'm worried they'll discover we're gone soon.”

We clawed our way along the side of the house, careful to duck our heads below the window ledges. I wasn't worried about being seen through the first set of windows. It was unlikely any of these thugs had wandered into Eric's office. But the glow coming from the den window set my teeth on edge, particularly when it darkened for a second as if someone had walked past the window. It was about the size of the biker.

At the thought of the biker, the images of the rape came flooding back. I stopped. My breath came in short, gasping pants as the icy chill of fear rolled over me. Unable to push a foot forward through the snow, I watched helplessly as Jid moved away.

Realizing I was no longer behind him, he turned around short of the den window. He waved me frantically forward. “Come on, Auntie, we gotta go.”

“You go ahead.” The shadow blackened the window again. “No, come back.” Terrified Slobo would see us, I tried to back up but found myself paralyzed, unable to move forward or backward.

“Auntie, we've gotta get the Ski-Doo.”

But I no longer saw the machine or the boy. Instead I saw the man's lusting face leaning over me, his mouth open, tongue ready. My nostrils filled with his reeking breath. My breasts cringed from the roughness of his hands. I fought to push him away and found myself punching snow.

“Auntie, Auntie, what's wrong?” came a voice through what seemed like the other end of a tunnel. Then the tunnel disappeared. I was lying on my back. Instead of a rapist's face, I was looking into the innocence of youth. Jid's eyes were wide with alarm.

“Auntie, you okay?” I felt his hand search out mine.

“Yeah, I'm fine, just give me a minute, okay?”

I closed my eyes, and when I opened them I was looking into Slobo's gloating face. This time I knew he was real.

I screamed.

E
very
cell in my body recoiled with the memory of the man's brutality, while my mind screamed,
Get out of here
!

Half-sitting, half-lying, I thrashed at the snow, desperate to back as far away from the psycho as I could.

“Don't hurt me,” I pleaded.

I kicked, punched, clawed at the snow. Panic consumed me. All thought of Jid vanished. I flailed. I lashed. I scratched. But I only buried myself deeper into the coldness.

I gave up. “Please don't hurt me.”

I gulped in mouthfuls of air. My chest pounded. My body shook. Tears slid down my cheeks. I tried to wipe them away and only succeeded in covering my face with more snow.

I waited, not sure what I would do if he touched me.

Instead I heard him growl, “Get up, bitch.”

I lay still and kept my eyes clamped shut.

“Now!”

I heard someone swishing through the snow toward me. I girded myself but remained where I lay, unable to move.

“Auntie, you okay?”

I cleared the snow from my eyes and looked up to see the man standing several metres away, his legs rooted in the snow, his arms held tensely at his side. The cut where I'd sliced him was an angry red against the pallor of his cheek. He touched it and sneered. He raised his revolver and aimed it directly at my head.

“I shoot you and then boy.”

Midway between us stood Jid, frozen in midstride, his face a mirror of fear.

I was too paralyzed to try to save him. Instead I closed my eyes and whispered to myself, “Goodbye, my son, if only you were. Goodbye my love, my one and only. I'm sorry. I've failed you both.” I held my breath and waited.

As if from the bottom of a barrel came a voice. “Tiger, honey, what are you doing out there?”

“These two escape. I shoot them.”

I waited for what seemed like an eternity.

“Nah, don't,” came the reply. “Bring them inside. They still might come in handy as hostages.”

I took a deep breath and slowly opened my eyes to stare straight into the barrel of Slobo's gun. For one heart-stopping moment I thought he was going to ignore his girlfriend. Then he slowly lowered it.

“Get inside!” he yelled. He punctuated it with a shot fired into the air. The sudden bang cut the stillness like a knife, causing an overhang of snow to drop from the woodshed roof.

The sound brought Jo back onto the porch. I could see from her expression that she was expecting to see us lying bleeding in the snow. I felt a frisson of hope when I saw her visibly relax. “Tiger, I want them inside, now.”

My legs were shaking so much, I thought I would fall, but I managed to stay upright and make it to Jid, who clung to me as if his life depended on it. Tears streamed down his face.

“There, there, it's okay.” I patted his hair and kissed his forehead. “Just keep telling yourself we're going to make it.” I held him close.

My bare hands were so cold, I could barely feel them. I'd lost the sock mittens in my panic. I could also feel the icy prickle of melting snow slithering down my back. A convulsive shudder ran through me.

“Move,” Slobo shouted.

Hanging on to each other, we pushed through the snowdrifts toward the porch stairs. But the Serbian refused to budge from where he blocked our path, as if daring us to come near him. We detoured to the Ski-Doo track.

The man sneered, “Bitch, I get you later.”

His girlfriend eyed me intently from the top of the stairs.

Passing the Ski-Doo, I noticed that the key was in the ignition. I nudged the boy to ensure he saw it too. Maybe by some miracle he would be able to escape.

Funny thing, hope. Even when it looked as if all was lost, it continued to percolate. I took this as a sign that I had not completely given up.

We clambered up the steps to the porch. While brushing the snow off our clothes, I thought I heard a distant rumble that added to my hope. A noise I'd heard many times before. The sound of Gerry's snowplough coming up my road. I couldn't tell how far away he was, but I felt confident that within a few minutes he would be within view. Which raised a whole new worry. What would these guys do when they saw Gerry?

Jid glanced in the direction of the driveway. He heard it too.

Anxious to get these killers inside before the truck appeared, I called out, my voice shaking, “You guys must be hungry. Let's go inside and I'll make breakfast.”

Slobo grunted in response and made his way towards the porch. To cover up the sound of the plough, I stomped my feet on the boards as if trying to get rid of the snow. Jid did likewise. But the minute the man's foot touched the bottom step, I shoved Jid in front of me, past Jo and into the kitchen, putting as much distance as I could between the monster and us.

We both slipped and slid on the floor, barely able to remain upright with the wet socks covering our shoes.

The puppy whined and scratched at the door to her crate.

“Shoni's glad to see us,” Jid whispered. “I didn't think I was going to see her again.”

The poor kid. No child should come so close to death. But his trembling was diminishing, and he was talking. He was going to be okay.

He lifted Shoni out of the cage, clutched her to his chest, and buried his face in her fur. A puppy. The perfect remedy. Just what he needed.

For a moment she was quiet, glad to be with her buddy, but then she started struggling and whining again.

“She's gotta go,” he whispered. “Do you think they will let me put her out?”

“Let me do it.” I held the puppy close and started toward the back door.

“Stop right there,” Jo ordered when I tried to pass. “What do you think you're doing?”

“The dog has to go the bathroom.”

“You think I'm stupid enough to let you go outside?”

Before I could react, she pulled Shoni from my hands and threw her at her boyfriend as he was coming through the outside door. He fumbled with the wriggling body but managed to hang on. It was too much for the poor dog. She released a watery stream. Cursing loudly in Serbian, he dropped her and kicked her away. Whimpering, she scampered across the floor back to me.

I picked her up and held her close. Her entire body quivered as much as I was quivering.

“Stupid dog,” Slobo growled, coming into the kitchen. “Do again, I kill her.” The entire front of his jeans were soaked. “You got husband. Get me clean jeans.”

I wasn't sure whether they would fit, but I wasn't about to ignore his order. Holding the puppy with one hand and Jid's hand with the other, I made for the hall. I wasn't going to leave either alone with these people, if you could call them people.

“Stop,” Jo yelled. “You're not going anywhere. You're staying right here, where I can see you. Send the boy.”

“Do another sign,” I mouthed as he let go of my hand. I jerked my head in the direction of upstairs, hoping he would understand.

“Get back into the kitchen,” Jo ordered.

I could just make out the faint growl of the snowplough. I'd forgotten that the sound carried through the walls, though it could be mistaken for the wind. If they did recognize the noise, hopefully they would decide to remain hidden and let the plough continue on its business.

So far neither of them were paying attention to the growing rumble. They were more interested in pawing each other.

I put Shoni back inside her cage. I could hear the blade scraping the snow off the road. Gerry was almost here.

Jo cocked her head in the direction of the noise and then dismissed it. “Where's the kid? He should be back by now.”

“Jid,” I called out, walking toward the hall. Maybe I could sprint upstairs.

“Get back here, or I finish what Tiger started.”

I turned to see Jo's pistol pointed straight at me. She walked toward me. “Hey kid, you better still be up there. Where are the jeans?”

I heard running from the front of the house, then Jid called out, “I got 'em.” He raced down the stairs a little too fast and almost slipped in his stocking-covered shoes, but he managed to remain upright with the jeans still clenched firmly in his hand.

There was no mistaking the whine of the truck's engine now.

“Hey, Jo. You better come here. Someone come,” the Serbian yelled from the kitchen.

“Fuck! In the kitchen. Both of you,” Jo hissed. “Is it the cops?” she shouted at Slobo.

If only it were.

“I see only big truck,” he answered from his position by the pantry window.

“It's the snowplough,” I said.

“Good. We can use the road,” Jo replied. “Will he want to see you?”

I shook my head. Usually he was in too much of a hurry to stop, but this time he might when he saw the damaged porch. Knowing Eric was away, he would want to check up on me. If he did, I feared they would kill him, and there was nothing I could do to warn him.

“Tiger, stay in the kitchen with them and keep your gun on them. They try to do anything, shoot. I'm going up front to make sure this guy stays in his truck.” She headed up the hall toward the front door with her own gun ready.

I panicked, horrified of being left alone with my rapist. I started to run after her and found myself being wrenched backward. I slipped, lost my balance, and fell to the floor. I looked up into the muzzle of his gun.

“No move,” came the order.

The house descended into a deathly stillness as we waited. The only sounds were the scraping of the plough along the drive, the whining of the truck's laboured engine, and my pounding heart.

I prayed that Jo wouldn't notice Jid's sign. I prayed that Gerry would see it and head back down the road without letting on. I stopped breathing and waited for the sound of the truck's retreat.

Instead the silence was shattered by loud, hooting shrieks.