They hung crookedly from a few billboards and telephone poles when we passed them, barely staying on. The state of the signs, I thought, was a bad omen. It meant no one had given them proper maintenance in a long time, which made the little bit of hope I clung to begin dissolving.
I said nothing and neither did Ell, because speaking of such things made it worse.
As we glided beneath the signs in our sled, we dodged bright orange sawhorses and large traffic cones that the wind had blown across the top of the snow.
I could try to describe the town to you, but there wasn’t much to describe. White not only covered the roads and walkways, but it covered most of the buildings and the traffic lights and the cars too. The taller structures, not many in this place, remained unburied, but the white coated the brick and the windows. Imagine a realistic sketch on a piece of paper; now imagine the artist had grown tired of it and hastily erased what they had been working on. All that’s left behind is a ghostly image of what was once a detailed drawing. That was how I saw this town—and most of the places we passed through.
I fell into a doze after we stopped to refuel, and Ell took over on the driving. I believe I’ve told you how cramped it was in those snowmobiles before, but I feel a reminder is in order now. With all of our stuff and Chewy on top of that, I couldn’t lift my elbows up more than a few inches without bumping Eleanor. When we had Mikey’s body with us, I couldn’t move at all, and when Bob Ballard tagged along, guiding us to his house in Woodhaven, I almost couldn’t breathe. Still, despite all of this, I did fall asleep. Not a heavy sleep by any means, but sleep nonetheless.
In the end, we’re no match for exhaustion.
For once, since the death of Mikey, I had been dreaming something pleasant. I was standing on a beach with my toes digging into the sand. I wore nothing but swim trunks, blue and white, with the outlines of palm trees stenciled on them—much like the ones swaying in the sea breeze behind me. The salt from the ocean smelled fresh and clean, and when I swiped my tongue over my lips, I could taste it.
A voice in the distance caught my attention.
“Grady! What are you doing? C’mon!”
It was Ell. Her body looked utterly stunning in the yellow bikini she wore. She was waving at me from a spot a little ways down the shore. Here, an umbrella stuck out of the sand at an angle, with a few beach chairs huddled beneath its shade. Music played from a portable stereo, and the song coming from its speakers reminded me of Hawaii, a place I had never been but had seen on television and in the movies. The singer was humming along as she strummed a ukulele.
Stone and Jonas sat on two of the chairs with cold beers in hand, laughing, bobbing their heads, and toasting to the good life. Behind them, Helga lay on a towel, catching some rays, large buggy sunglasses over her eyes. I smiled at the sight, but wondered where Mikey was in all of this. My brain gave an answer in the form of a dog’s distant barking. I turned and looked past the shoreline.
In the water, making their own waves, Mikey and Chewy splashed around, both of their hair sopping wet, both of their mouths open, tongues lolling out. Every so often, Mikey threw some kind of bright, squeaky dog toy, and Chewy launched after it.
“Grady, you said you’d play Rummy with us! Come on!” Ell called again, one hand cupping her mouth, the other shielding her eyes.
I tried to walk, but I couldn’t. The sand beneath my feet began sinking, and the smile on my face transformed into a twisted grimace of fear and pain.
What? my lips mouthed, no sound able to escape.
Above, the once-blue sky turned a violent shade of black. Gunmetal gray clouds pressed down on the horizon, strangling the sun of its warmth and light. A cold front rolled across the beach almost instantaneously, and my flesh tightened and chilled. Thunder rumbled as the dark heavens cracked open and wispy black creatures floated downward. Then, when another boom of thunder shook the sand, the sky widened and snow poured from the fracture. It coated everything in a pure, unblemished white, yet when the flakes lit on my skin, they did not melt but sizzled instead, and the stench of charred meat and burnt hair replaced the pleasant scent of the sea.
The creatures reached the shore, which was now completely buried by the snow, and made their way toward my loved ones—who, like me, stood frozen.
When I tried screaming, my jaw unhinged, and the pain radiating through my face was unlike any I had felt before.
More thunder rippled—
Ell was screaming in my ears, seemingly inches away. The warmth of her breath clashed with the harshness of her voice. “Grady! Grady!”
A nightmare.
Jolted awake, I realized the snow from my dream had followed me into reality, and we were in the throes of yet another storm. I wasn’t surprised by that, but I was surprised that something else had followed with it. The thunder. Flashes of light tattooed my vision, reinforcing the idea, but as my brain shook off the cobwebs of sleep, I realized thunder and lightning made no sense.
Then again, neither did a lot of things.
I turned to Ell, who screamed as she jerked the sled to the right. We tipped with the sudden movement. The left side rose and fell with a muffled thunk that rattled the layers of ice beneath the fresh snow.
Chewy shot across the seats, but I caught him before he could crumple against the passenger door. He yelped, which I barely heard
