Paul Curtin - Gray Snow

“I think I want to take that shirt,” the tallest one said, pointing at Kelly.

She gripped the front of it near her collar bone as the others cackled. “Yeah,” another said, “it belongs to us now. Cough it up.”

“Your pants too.”

“And your panties.”

“Shut up,” the leader yelled. “All of you shut the hell up.”

They sank into silence. The fire crackled. The leader said, “We’ll just get what we want and then we’ll be on our way. We’re headed south to warmer pastures. But just know that it’s nothing personal. You all have kept yourselves sealed up here while the rest of the world rotted. It’s fine, but now I’m going to help y’all do the charitable thing and share.”

The men chuckled. Sean said, “We can work out a deal.”

“Sean,” Elise hissed.

The leader extended his hand to silence Elise. “You’re not in a position to be making a bargain,” he said to Sean.

“There has to be something,” Sean said.

“There is: all your food and supplies.”

“You can’t take everything. That’s all we have.”

“That’s the way things go now.”

“You’ll kill us.”

“I said we’re not killing anyone.”

“You’re going to.”

The leader walked around Sean and licked his lips. “You still don’t get it, do you? You don’t get how this goes.” He turned toward the group. “Bring the girl over here,” he said, pointing to Molly.

Molly rolled back with wide eyes. A man stomped over to her from behind and lifted her by her armpits. She screamed. Andrew, next to her, socked the man across the face, the man reeling to the side and falling over. The room stirred. Kelly held Aidan tightly. Another man grabbed a fist full of Andrew’s hair and slammed him to the floor. Sean jumped forward, but someone kicked him in the stomach and he went down hard. One of the guys led Molly toward him while Travers aimed the shotgun at Sean.

The leader yelled over them. “You’ll understand how things are soon enough.”

Elise yelled for them to stop, and Michael sat with his fists balled. “Stretch out her hand,” the leader said.

The other man tossed her in front of the coffee table and gripped her by the wrist, slamming her hand against the wood and pinning it down. She screamed as the leader unsheathed a large hunting knife from his belt.

“No,” Sean yelled out and tried to rush toward them, but Travers stepped forward and put the shotgun barrel in his face. The leader looked back to him. “Stay still or your kids have to watch you die.”

The leader grabbed Molly’s hand, but she fisted it. He pried her pinky out, and she cried for him to stop. “Please, please. Don’t.”

“You don’t have to do this,” Sean yelled.

The leader pressed the blade against her middle knuckle. “How many fingers do you think it’ll take until you get it? How many fingers?”

A thin film of blood emerged under the blade. Molly howled. “None,” Sean said.

“I think at least one.”

“None, please. I swear. I understand. I get it.”

The leader paused and pressed the blade a little harder, Molly crying. The leader said, “You sure?”

Someone behind them gasped, and hard, so loudly even the leader turned. Their eyes settled on Aidan. His chest was rising and falling, but it was as if he was eating the air instead of breathing it. His face grew red, and the veins in his forehead bulged. “He’s having an asthma attack,” Sean said and tried to move toward him.

Travers kicked him down, and he stumbled. The leader looked from Aidan to Sean and licked his lips. Of all the things he could have done, he licked his damn lips.

“He needs his inhaler,” Sean yelled.

Aidan grabbed at his chest and smacked it, the look in his eyes emitting terror. His little ribs expanded and contrasted, strained and difficult. Kelly held onto him. “Please, he needs his inhaler,” Elise cried.

The leader straightened himself and pushed his foot against Molly’s side. The man holding her hand released her, and Molly toppled to the floor. She reached out to her little brother and grabbed his hand. The leader said, “You think you know. You sit in this comfortable little house while the world goes to shit. You think you know.” He kneeled next to Sean, both of them watching the boy struggle. “Look at him. Look at him good. I could let him die right now. And there’s nothing you could do.”

Aidan grew paler. “We’ll give you everything,” Sean said. “Please, just let me help my son.”

“I had a son once. A man shot him for trying to take food so he wouldn’t starve.”

Aidan jerked and released a wheezing breath, his eyes dripping tears.

“I could’ve killed Travers, but I didn’t,” Sean said, looking between Aidan and the leader.

“Because you don’t understand the way of things,” the leader said.

“Oh, God. Aidan. Calm your breathing. Calm it down,” Elise said.

Sean rushed toward his son, but Travers put a boot into his back and he was stopped short. Sean wanted to scream at Travers, about how he was a son of a bitch, a bastard, or that he should rot in hell, but his throat was dry and he couldn’t produce sound, so all he did was cough.

“Everything, even your life, even your family’s life, belongs to me,” the leader said. “Do we understand one another now?”

Sean understood. He did. God, he did.

AIDAN TOOK A couple puffs from his inhaler, Elise watching his chest ease. It didn’t do much to calm her own breathing though. The leader ordered Michael, Aidan, and Andrew to move food from the reserves to the garage. Then he and the tall man dragged Sean and the women up to the bedroom.

With every step she felt as if she were disembodied. Her brain was clouded, reality not concrete. The tall man pushed her further up the stairs. She watched over the railing as one intruder carried a box of food from the basement to the garage, his footprints smearing ash into the carpet. They were taking everything. Their whole lives.

Molly had ceased crying after a few minutes. Her finger hadn’t stopped bleeding, so Elise held her hand and pressed against the wound. Wouldn’t let go no matter what. The leader kicked open the door to the master bedroom, waved his gun, and said, “Ladies, find a seat. Anywhere will do. Just keep your hands where I can see them.”

The tall man shoved the three women toward the wall. They sank right to the floor, Kelly watching the men, grasping for a hand to hold without looking. Molly grabbed onto it, her other hand clasping Elise’s. Elise pulled her daughter’s head into her shoulder.

The leader turned on an LED lantern and the room filled with light. He then led Sean to the safes. “What do you have in them?” he asked.

“Guns. Ammo. Papers. Cash.”

“Supplies?”

“If you count guns and ammo as supplies.”

“I do,” he said with a smile. “The best kind of supplies.”

Her husband looked back at her, and her heart dropped. The defeat in his eyes. The wounds laid bare there. The life had been sucked from his body until he was a shell. Nothing left. His eyes shifted to Molly and back to Elise. She wanted him to know she still loved him, but he turned away.

“Open them up.” The leader motioned with his gun, and Sean stepped forward. Sean pressed his finger against the pad on the safe, the light turning green, and typed a few digits into the pad. The safe clicked, and he stepped out of the way. The leader grinned. “It’s open?”