Read Online Chills by Mary Sangiovanni - Free Book Online Page A

morning.
    â€œWhat the hell’s going on out there, Sherry?” Jack’s question was soft, sad, and almost inaudible.
    â€œDon’t know,” she answered, her voice wavering. “Maybe it’s the weather.”

Chapter Four
    T he local community college had closed its campus on account of the weather; so had nearly every business in town—at least those who employed experienced adults who knew better than to think they had to risk their lives for retail. Twenty-somethings like Dan Murphy and Jessica Florey were apparently not counted among either the experienced or the indispensable, since the Quick Mart where they had met and both worked for the last eight months or so had remained open and indifferent to their potential safety. Dan had offered to drive his girlfriend home, to see to it that she made it safely. They had left her car half-buried in a mountain of gray. Although it was in better condition than Dan’s old beater, it didn’t have snow tires or four-wheel drive, so he had insisted they take his. He’d meant the best; he really had.
    As they passed Ormann Field on the far side of Colby, though, Dan’s car shivered in the snow. They got a mile or so farther down the road and then rolled to a stop.
    Dan was not inclined to panic, but feeling control of the car slip away from him in the whiteout made him distinctly uneasy; it didn’t help that the snow immediately began to pile with almost unnatural quickness on the hood of the car.
    â€œDammit.” He was also not, as inclinations go, particularly interested or skilled in the mechanical workings of cars, which he felt now was coming back to bite him. He scanned the dashboard to see if any lights were flashing, but nothing indicated a problem. The car had jerked a little as if the anti-lock brake system had detected a patch of ice, then just rolled to a stop.
    He braced himself. Jessica would have something to say. She always did. It would be his fault, as nearly everything that afternoon apparently was. She wouldn’t even have to voice the blame; it would be dripping all over her tone.
    He tried the key in the ignition. The car wouldn’t start. The engine wouldn’t even turn over. He tried again: no dice.
    â€œDammit,” he said louder, pounding a hand on the steering wheel. He sat a minute, then tried the ignition again. Nothing happened. He figured it could be the battery; maybe the cold had affected it somehow. . . .
    Jessica frowned in his periphery. “Did you run out of gas?”
    Dan cast a frustrated glance in her direction. “Of course not. Look—it’s at half a tank still.”
    â€œWell,” she returned his irritation, “maybe the battery froze. Or something is wrong with the engine. Aren’t you supposed to run it to keep it going in the winter? I mean, I don’t know. I’m not a mechanic.”
    â€œObviously,” he muttered under his breath, yanking on his gloves. He flipped up the hood with a switch beneath the dashboard and opened the car door. A frigid blast of air stabbed into the car’s interior. “Be right back. Stay here.” He slid out into the snowfall and slammed the door.
    * * *
    While he was gone, Jessica waited in the car, steaming the windows with her irritation. She could catch dark glimpses of Dan’s coat through the blizzard as he made his way to the front of the car, brushed the snow off it with his sleeve, and popped the hood. She couldn’t see him at all then, and could hear nothing but the creaking of the wind and the chuffing of the snow. It made her feel nettled. She didn’t like the idea of being left alone in the passenger seat, with him doing God-knew-what to the insides of the car in some half-assed attempt at being Mr. Fix-it. She took her cell out of her purse with half a mind to just call Triple-A, but a sound outside, louder than the storm, made her jump. It had sounded like a heavy thump