The silhouette of a tall man approaches. A star shape glitters on his breast. His hat has a broad brim. A cowboy hat. His boots make clomping sounds on the tile as he approaches the Snowman on the floor, who cranes his neck in an effort to better visualize the man with the star. The standing man tilts his head toward his shoulder and whispers. There’s a crackle of static and a woman mumbles a reply.
“Help,” the Snowman whispers, but it comes out as little more than a sigh. Again he tries, “Help.”
“Show me your hands!” the Starman shouts. He reaches for his hip, gives a tug, tugs again. His belt jangles. After an awkward moment punctuated by the sounds of crying and whimpering and snapping grease and clattering plates and silverware, the Starman is pointing at the seated man with both hands held together in front of him.
The Snowman smiles and fresh blood seeps from the cracks in his tattered lips. He nods to himself as though in answer to a question only he can hear.
“Help,” the man whispers again and starts to cry. He leans forward and makes a horrible animal sound that could be a sob or a laugh or in response to any of the myriad emotions that rapidly play upon his face.
He reaches out and picks up the severed head. The eyes are sunken into the sockets and the cranium is misshapen from the Snowman repeatedly falling onto it. The lips are pulped and the front teeth are gone. One of them is stuck to the blood on the Snowman’s shirt. It is obvious both by the sight and the smell that the head has been separated from the body for some time. And even more obvious, judging by the rictus of pain frozen to the man’s face, that his passing must have been a singularly excruciating experience.
The Snowman holds the head out for the Starman, presents it to him like a gift, an offering.
“Drop it!” the Starman shouts. “Don’t you dare move a muscle!”
The Snowman holds it up higher in response, tipping it to showcase the ridges where teeth have gnawed bone.
“Jesus Christ! Put that goddamn thing down and raise your hands above your head!”
The Snowman falters. The expression on his face is now one of confusion. He leans forward to set the head on the floor and barely keeps from collapsing. Something falls from the inside pocket of his jacket and makes a clattering sound when it strikes the tile.
“Back away from the knife!” the Starman shouts.
More screaming from the back of the restaurant.
The Snowman shakes his head and smiles again. This is obviously just a misunderstanding. It’s just a skinning knife. The tip isn’t even sharp anymore after using it to carve the names of the dead onto the wall. He can prove it. He can just pull it out of its scabbard and show the Starman that the blunted tip isn’t even sharp enough to prick his thumb.
“Back away from it! This is your last warning! Back away from the weapon!”
The Snowman grabs the knife from the floor, grips it by the hilt, and pulls—
The report is deafening.
The Snowman’s head snaps backward as he’s tossed toward the door.
The glass spider-webs away from the bullet hole.
It falls in shards onto the Snowman.
A crimson pool seeps out from beneath his head.
An arc of blood slowly dissociates into slender ribbons that trickle down the inside of the plate glass window above the scarlet-speckled booths, dribbling down the words painted on the opposite side of the glass.
ALFERD PACKER GRILL
HOME OF THE WORLD FAMOUS 72 oz. MONSTER SIRLOIN
ATTENTION BIG GAME HUNTERS:
WELCOME TO BIGFOOT COUNTRY!
Author’s Note
(If you haven’t read the story yet, stop reading right now. Right this very second, dammit! What? Are you blind or just trying to be difficult? Stop reading right this very minute or so help me…)
Now, for those of you who actually read the story and didn’t cheat, here are some fun facts:
About The Author
Michael McBride is the author of
Bloodletting
,
Blood Wish
,
God’s End
,
Immun3
,
Infinity Twice Removed
(with William C. Rasmussen),
Innocents Lost
,
Predatory Instinct
and
The Infected
, all from Delirium Books. He lives with his wife and children in Avalanche Country. For more information about the author or to explore his other works, please visit:
www.michaelmcbride.net
.
Table of Contents
November 21st: Pine Springs, Colorado
November 21st: Rocky Mountains