Micro Uzi and the Korth from the countertop, one in each hand. Toby
scooted off his chair, Falstaff came out from under the table and
padded directly to the connecting door between the kitchen and the
garage. The dog seemed to understand that they were getting out, and
he fully concurred with their decision.
Jack unlocked the door, opened it fast but warily, sing the threshold
with the shotgun held in front of him, as if he expected their enemy to
be in the garage.
flipped the light switch, looked left and right, and said, 'Okay.'
Toby followed his father, with Falstaff at his side. Heather left
last, glancing back at the windows. ow. Nothing but cold cascades of
snow. Even with the lights on, the garage was murky. It was as chilly
as a walk-in refrigerator. The big sectional roll-up door rattled in
the wind, but she didn't push the button to raise it, they would be
safer if they activated it with the remote from inside the Explorer.
While Jack made sure that Toby got in the back seat and buckled his
safety belt and that the dog was in as well, Heather hurried to the
passenger side. She watched the floor as she moved, convinced that
something was under the Explorer and would seize her by the ankles.
She remembered the dimly and briefly glimpsed presence on the other
side of the threshold when she had opened the door a crack in her dream
Friday night. Glistening and dark. Writhing and quick. Its full
shape had not been discernible, although she had perceived something
large, with vaguely serpentine coils. From memory she could clearly
recall its cold hiss of triumph before she had slammed the door and
exploded from the nightmare.
Nothing slithered from under either vehicle and grabbed at her,
however, and she made it safely into the front passenger seat of the
Explorer, where she put the heavy Uzi on the floor between her feet.
She held on to the revolver. 'Maybe the snow's too deep,' she said as
Jack leaned in the driver's door and handed her the twelve-gage. She
braced the shotgun between her knees, butt against the floor, muzzle
aimed at the ceiling.
'The storm's a lot worse than they predicted.' Getting behind the
wheel, slamming his door, he said, 'It'll be all right. We might push
a little snow here and there with the bumper, but I don't think it's
deep enough yet to be a big problem.'
'I wish we'd had that plow attached first thing.' Jack jammed the key
in the ignition, twisted the switch, but was rewarded only with
silence, not even the grinding of the starter. He tried again.
Nothing. He checked to be sure the Explorer wasn't in gear. Tried a
third time without success. Heather was no more surprised than she had
been when the phone proved to be dead. Although Jack said nothing and
was reluctant to meet her eyes, she knew he had expected it too, which
was why he had also brought the keys to the Cherokee.
While Heather, Toby, and Falstaff got out of the Explorer, Jack slipped
behind the wheel of the other vehicle. That engine wouldn't turn over,
either. He raised the hood on the Jeep, then the hood on the
Explorer.
He couldn't find any problems. They went back into the house.
