Paul Curtin - Gray Snow

He walked back into the living room after taking a brief walk to find the kids playing a speed card game. Molly was dominating. Her hands flew across the coffee table and thumped a card down into a pile while Aidan and Andrew scrambled to keep up. He smiled, just a little, but it faded when he saw his wife curled under a blanket across the room, staring into the fire.

He looked away, sat on the floor, and watched the kids rapidly discard and pull cards from different decks. The back and forth, the laughter. Rare sounds. Molly slammed a card down and threw her hands into the air. “That’s game,” she said.

“You cheated,” Aidan said, though not the least bit upset.

“Losers weepers,” she said with a laugh.

Michael smiled at her. She had always been a pretty girl, but for some reason she had an aura about her, a glow to her skin, a composure, some secret well of courage the invaders hadn’t stolen from her like they had from everyone else. A confidence that an end would come to this disaster and that their last, dreary scraps of life would not be lived inside the surrounding walls.

“Okay, deal again,” Aidan said, slapping his knees.

“You want to lose again?” Molly said.

“Just do it.”

Everyone smiled, and Molly shuffled the cards. Michael put a hand on her shoulder. “How’ve you been holding up?”

She shrugged. “Okay, I guess.” She paused and whispered. “I haven’t gotten Kelly to talk yet.”

Michael forced a smile. “She’ll get there.”

She nodded, and for a moment—just for a moment—he saw that confidence disappear. She shuffled the cards in a smooth motion. “Hey, Uncle Mike, I have something I want your advice on,” she said, lowering her voice even more and not meeting his eye.

“Sure.”

“About my dad.”

Andrew grew rigid. He reached under the table and grabbed her leg. She shot a glance over to him, and they shared a silent conversation. She looked back toward her uncle and smiled. “We can talk about it later, if that’s okay.”

“Sure,” he said, looking between the two, “later.”

“Deal it up,” Aidan said.

Molly was dealing the cards when the door to the garage opened and Sean stepped through. Nobody spoke. He shed his coat, walked into the living room, and said a few words to Kelly before heading to the fire and extending his hands toward the heat. Michael followed with his eyes and then motioned to the kids. “Go on. Play.” As the kids started their game, Michael pushed himself off the ground and came over to the fireplace. Warmed his hands and said, “What’s the temperature like?”

“Cold,” Sean said.

That would be the answer Sean gave. Even when Michael was trying to be friendly, his brother-in-law was still an asshole. “Colder?”

“It actually went up a few degrees, but it’s not noticeable.”

He nodded. “Listen, is there anything I can help you with? I can chop wood, you know? I can—”

“I have something.”

He almost laughed it was so unexpected. “Yeah?”

Sean rubbed his hands together and motioned with his head. “Follow me.”

They marched up the stairs and around the banister, Michael keeping his eyes away from the blood. Sean led him upstairs to a wall at the front of the house and stopped. A hunting rifle was mounted between the partially open window and frame, its barrel craned upward outside and its stock resting downward inside like opposite ends of a seesaw. Michael pulled the stock upward and allowed gravity to settle it back down. On the sides of the gun, the window frame was stuffed with wood and cloth to block the cold.

Sean whipped a phone from his pocket and swiped his finger across it. “Our new security system,” he said. “Or one of them. Look at this.”

He held out the phone, and Michael took it into his hand. It looked like the image of the backyard, static and serene. “How do you still have a phone?”

“Battery-powered chargers. The solar panels still produce a little electricity.”

“And it works?”

“There’s no cell service, but I can still run things on batteries. Bluetooth and whatnot.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I took the camera from the reserves and pointed it toward the backyard. That way I can keep an eye on it. The motion sensor buzzes in my pocket—gives me alerts if something’s moving on the camera. Has night vision too. I hooked it up to the bluetooth of the phone and there you have it.” He pointed to the rifle. “Aidan’s room faces the backyard, so I have a gun mounted there just like this.”

“This is for defense?”

Sean nodded.

“I thought you said they weren’t coming back.”

“ They probably won’t. That doesn’t rule out someone else.”

“Who else’s going to wander into our place?”

“It wouldn’t be that difficult. The fireplace puts off smoke. And if there’s smoke, there’s fire. And that means anyone traveling can smell it and find us if they’re looking.”

“But who would be traveling through?”

“Don’t know. If anyone’s survived this long, it’s because they either planned ahead or they’re bandits. So, we can’t take any more chances.”

“Is that really going to be a problem?”

Sean paused. “Just like before. Because who would come to take our food, right? That’s what you said.”

He didn’t reply.

“We’re going to man the watch in shifts. Everyone will. We need to be vigilant. There are dangers out there we can’t allow back into our home.”

“Do you really think this’s necessary?”

“I wouldn’t be doing it if I didn’t think it was.”

He had to be the bigger man. Because as much as he hated to admit it, Sean had been right. Damn it, he had been right. He almost admitted it out loud a few times too. He said, “How can I help?”

“Take the first shift. There’s a button on the side of the scope that turns on the night vision.” He pointed to a box of ammunition. “I stapled some targets to the trees out there. We’ll do some practice later.” He turned to leave but stopped. “You see someone walking toward our house, don’t hesitate. Not for a moment. You shoot.”

Michael didn’t know what to say.

“You understand?”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Sean said, pulled up a chair, tossed him a heavy coat and a few blankets from nearby, and left.

He sank down into his seat and looked out the window into the field of ashen snow across the street, at the pine trees caked with muck. Even though there had been little accumulation, it all looked like a giant mud pile from his view. He imagined someone walking over that hill, a stranger in thick clothing, laboring through the deep snow. Saw himself raising the bead of the scope onto him. He shook his head, shuddering. God forbid it ever came to that. But then again, God didn’t seem to forbid much of anything anymore.

SHE FORGAVE SEAN. She really did. Or at least that was what she told herself.

She had always said she would be the kind of wife that would stick with her husband through anything. When she spoke her wedding vows, they weren’t a trivial string of words. She had dedicated herself to him, for richer and for poorer, in sickness and in health.

But when she closed her eyes, she saw his hand swinging toward her, stopping short, the fury in his eyes, the spittle flying from his lips. In that moment, he had transfigured into something she had never seen before. It was as if a beast had emerged within him, possessing him, taking control.