Winterkill

“That’s right,” the more obnoxious of the two men in white agreed. Again, the other chuckled.

“Spud. Cargill. Is. Not. Here.”

Joe studied Brockius’s face, looking into his soulful eyes.

“That man tried to join us last night. He did come here. I spoke with him, and I turned him away.”

“Why didn’t you tell the Feds that?”

Brockius rolled his eyes and roared, “I DID TELL THEM HE WASN’T HERE.”

“They just didn’t believe you,” Joe said softly.

“How unlike them,” Brockius spat.

“Where did Spud go when you told him to leave?”

Brockius shrugged. “To wherever he came from, I guess.”

Joe felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. He was no closer to finding Spud now than he had been when he started. The pain in his head had reduced to a steady thump in his right temple. Joe reached up with a bare hand and cleaned packed snow out of his ear.

“Did you hear me?” Brockius asked.

“Yes. And I believe you,” Joe said.

“Jackbooted thugs,” Obnoxious White growled. “People that hide behind their regulations and their badges while they’re skinning a rabbit on a tape.”

Yes, Joe realized. That was the horrible squealing sound he heard with “Danke Schoen.”

There was a long minute where no one spoke. The screaming of the rabbit was like icy metal rubbing along Joe’s spine. Finally, it stopped.

“It’s going to start up again,” Obnoxious White said. “Is it all right with you if I go cut that fucking wire?”

Brockius looked up. “Watch out for booby traps in the trees. I wouldn’t put it past them to trip-wire the trees.”

Obnoxious White snapped on a flashlight that was taped to the barrel of his SKS rifle and walked away toward the fence and the road.

“Do you mind if I say hello to April?” Joe asked. “I saw her earlier.”

“You mean you spied on her.”

Joe nodded. “Yes, I did.”

“Did she seem happy to you?”

Joe hesitated. “She didn’t seem unhappy.”

“Then your question is answered. You can go now.”

Brockius helped Joe to his feet. His legs felt weak. He had lost one of his snowshoes. While his head still pounded, the pain in his ribs hurt worse. He could feel a stabbing sensation with each deep breath.

“Your man broke my rib, I think.”

“You’re lucky it wasn’t your head.”

“He did a pretty good number on my head, too,” Joe said, feeling slightly giddy for some reason.

Brockius walked Joe toward the edge of the compound where he had been dragged from. The other man in white stayed for a moment, then handed Joe’s pistol to Brockius before going to help Obnoxious White cut the wires. Obviously, the wires hadn’t been found yet, because the song started up again.

“Can you get back by yourself?” Brockius asked. “Are you okay to do that?”

“I think so,” Joe said, wincing from the rib pain.

“The roads are blocked and guarded. There’s no way we could take you down, even if we wanted to. This snow has trapped us here.”

“Will you leave when it stops snowing?”

Brockius stopped. Joe looked at him. The man had a kindly face. Joe couldn’t help liking him, despite himself.

“I think we might,” Brockius said softly. “We had a meeting about that this afternoon. But I can’t speak for everyone yet.”

“It would be a good idea,” Joe said, not wanting to tip off Brockius about Munker. This was as far as he would go.

But if the Sovereigns leave, Joe thought, April will be with them.

“My wife and I will still try to get April back,” Joe said.

“I don’t doubt that for a minute.” Brockius smiled.

“My wife is a very determined woman,” Joe added.

Brockius nodded, but said nothing, as he shined his flashlight on the snow where Joe had been dragged. He held the beam when it found Joe’s missing snowshoe.