Eric Dimbleby - White Out

Annie scowled now, pushing herself through the door crack after Tony. Regardless of the conditions of the world, this was still considered breaking and entering as far as Annie was concerned. She couldn’t help the thoughts that came with ease: Shut your mouth . You know as well as anybody that this is survival of the fittest . And that shit just got real.

Annie couldn’t filter the joyous giggle in her throat, as the warm air caressed their bodies upon entering The Purple Cat’s inner sanctuary. For an instant, it reminded her of that tingling feeling that one felt when they jumped in a pool, after being in a hot tub; a euphoric sense of inexplicable bliss in every nerve of the body. It was nearly orgasmic.

“How nice does that feel?” Tony asked, releasing a series of harsh sneezes. Annie noticed that he was getting sick, probably from exerting himself so much during their trip.

Darkness filled the void of the tavern’s high-ceilinged hall. Long oak rafters reached from one end of the formerly prosperous establishment to the other. Dangling from those beams was an array of animal heads such as elk, deer, and even a black bear. Annie experienced a strange tinge in her gut, as if the animals were watching her, ready to pass some sort of moral judgment on her insurmountable weaknesses.

Tony flicked on the light switch, but there was no response, which was to be expected. “Candlelight it is ,” said Tony. Annie detected a pleasure in that statement. The cretin never stopped thinking about his sick internal fantasies.

Igniting a long grill lighter, Tony held it up near his face, then swept it towards Annie, asking, “You okay?”

“No,” she said, “I’m not okay, actually. We shouldn’t be in here. It’s not our place. We weren’t given permission.”

Tony chuckled, holding the phallic lighter near his own face once again, leering at Annie. “Who are you, Miss Manners? I think politeness and etiquette kind of goes out the window when the shit hits the fan. In case you haven’t noticed,” he said, gesturing towards the lengthy bay windows along the front side of The Purple Cat, completely obfuscated by snow, “the shit has officially hit the fan, and its spraying all over the joint. It’s every man for himself.” He reconsidered that statement, smirking. “And every woman for herself, too.”

“That’s what scares me,” she whispered, but not loud enough for Tony to hear her. He was busy surveying their new digs, as he had an air about him that he did not intend to leave anytime soon.

The Purple Cat was devoid of life, but it still felt lived in . Auras and personalities clung to every surface, though those beings could not be seen. It hummed with recent activity, though Annie could not pinpoint what that evidence looked like. Tony touched the rim of the fireplace, looking over at Annie. The bricks encircling the fireplace were apparently still warm, which was a dead giveaway. “They haven’t been here all day, but they were here this morning I’d bet.”

“It’s getting dark so they’ll be coming back. Wouldn’t you, if you were them?”

“They may not come back at all,” Tony said, plopping himself down in a faux-leather easy chair that was directly across from the fireplace. He looked as if he was born there, as if it was designed to support his exact specifications. He couldn’t hold back on the grin that slid on to his face.

Annie wasn’t so sure about that theory. If somebody had a place like this, they would not abandon it, not in these times.

“Why don’t you throw a log on the fire and get it stoked up again?” Tony asked, really sort of telling , looking to Annie with an expression that was just a hair short of disrespectful. Maybe this, thought Annie, was why he was on the rocks with his darling wife.

Annie grunted. “We should at least wait outside, until it gets a little darker. I know that I’d be pretty pissed off if I came back and found somebody squatting in my spot.”

The calm expression on his face told her that he wasn’t listening to her, that her words held no credence. Why would he? She was a lowly woman after all, the sissy who was being driven around in a snow sled like an invalid, unable to help them with her dainty arms and puny back muscles.

So came a new request, this time louder and more insistent: “Why don’t you go back in the kitchen, see what’s still good to eat. See if they have any steaks. We can put them right on the fire.” He paused, staring at the fireless hearth, and then looked back at Annie, then at the hearth again. “And some whiskey. Or rum. Whatever they got, just no wine or anything like that. None of that sissy stuff. Beer would be perfect.”

Annie couldn’t deny that he deserved to be waited on hand and foot, as he’d taken on all the brunt of their day’s arduous task. And sure, he was worn out and broken down, just about ready to pass out from exhaustion… so why the hell did she feel so violated when he demanded things of her, as inconsequential as they were in the grand scheme of things?

“Yes, master,” she said, approaching the hearth, pulling a cracked log off the neat pile to the side. She tossed a couple of logs in, adding some scrunched newspaper from beneath the pile. He didn’t seem to pick up on her mocking tone, which troubled her even more.

At the end of the day, men were all the same.

Pigs, every last one of them.

It was all a muddy blur and Annie decided just to leave it at that. No need to explore the intricate details and fully form those thoughts, as she would never be able to relinquish them again, once they rooted deep inside of her. Annie couldn’t remember more than glimpses since they had seared a steak on a grill built into the fireplace. While they watched their dinner cook, she kept looking towards the windows, as darkness overtook the entire world, even more so than the bloody snow. They sipped on cheap gin, chilled and frosty, directly from the bottle. By the time the steak was done, fuzziness was all that she could piece together. He hadn’t drugged her, but he might as well have. She only blamed herself. It wasn’t like the first time with Tony, but it would certainly be the last.

Annie promised.

She promised herself that it would be the last.

The fire crackled and she jumped at the intrusive sound. The thought of being walked in on still loomed in her mind, though it was quite late in the evening now. If the current squatters of The Purple Cat planned on returning, then it would most likely be tomorrow morning, if at all. Maybe, thought Annie, they were all dead or back home with their significant others. Or maybe they didn’t even exist.

That was a lie. She thought of the warm bricks and she couldn’t buy the lie, no matter how hard she tried.

Tony rolled over, coughing into his forearm. A sheen of sweat still clung to his forehead, reflecting the dull orange flicker of the fire. Annie tensed at the sight of his face, as their noses were now only inches apart. She hated to look at his face. He was the ugliest stud she’d ever seen. Something about him made her quake when he was near, but for the most part, he served to disgust all of her senses simultaneously.

With weakened arms, she shoved him away from her, turning herself towards the roaring fire.

She needed to get dressed again, if only to mask her failure.

The fire wasn’t all that warm, though she wanted to convince herself that it was. The flames were a bastard, convincing her that she would always be safe, but in the end, she knew that to be another lie. All fires died down into only embers, on a long enough time line.

Annie stood up, pulling on her panties and stiffened, icy sweatpants that she had found in the trunk of her car, before it was buried by the snow. Her bra was basically an icicle, causing her nipples to stand at attention as she clipped the frosty clasps behind her. Outside of the thin blanket (some sort of Native American wall art that Christian—no, Tony —had ripped down during their early fugue of— stop stop stop thinking about it! ), it was another world altogether. Annie wondered if she would grow accustomed to these temperatures eventually. Anything became bearable once you were fully submerged, or so she had found on many occasions.