Fossil Lake: An Anthology of the Aberrant by Ramsey Campbell, Peter Rawlik, Mary Pletsch, Jerrod Balzer, John Goodrich, Scott Colbert, John Claude Smith, Ken Goldman, Doug Blakeslee Read Free Book Online

inside.
    “If we get stuck here . . . I mean, if anyone finds us together . . .”
    To the world, Matthew’s professional relationship with Ms. Sharon Weist had lasted a mere fifteen minutes the previous winter, when she had shown him and Andrea some Arvada lake front property. What followed was pure serendipity, a chance meeting with the lovely young realtor at Starbucks that escalated into innocent flirtation, a stolen kiss or two eventually paying off with some nooners.
    For almost a year, they had managed to pull off the occasional clandestine weekend. If he were caught in the middle of nowhere sharing this covert rendezvous with her, Matthew would have some clever explaining to do. But Sharon specialized in closing the big deals, and after months spent banging bones, maybe she figured their getting discovered might not prove such a bad thing after all.
    Matthew’s cellular chirped. His attention remained fixed on what he could see through the windshield, but he felt Sharon’s stare boring in on him.
    “Aren’t you going to answer it?”
    Having no choice he put the cell to his ear.
    “Hi, honey . . . Yes, I’m just heading home now. Hit a little snow, is all, so I’ll be late. No, babe, don’t wait up. I’ll warm up whatever you’ve got in the fridge. Yeah, skiing was really great. Kiss Derek goodnight for me, okay? Yes, I’m fine, really. Driving’s not so bad. Listen, you’re fading a bit. I’ll see you in the morning. Love you.”
    Sharon’s silence turned deafening. Without looking, Matthew knew the expression that had crossed her face, a face that did not remain beautiful when she felt pissed. Hoping to deflect the elephant in his Trail Blazer, he went for the fake-out.
    “I can phone my sports column in to the office tomorrow –”
    “Maybe you should call your wife back first, tell your Andrea about those other slopes you’ve been hitting while she’s been home changing diapers, hey?”
    “Very funny. Let me drive, okay? I can’t see for shit.”
    “No, Matthew. You really can’t.”
    Recognizing his no-win situation, he didn’t want to make an uncomfortable moment worse. But if Sharon were testing him to determine just how much testosterone he had, then he would have to show her.
    “You want to discuss that block of hot ice you’re sitting on? I mean, you might have picked a better time to bitch. I’m a little busy here trying to save our asses.”
    “A better time? You just spent three days fucking me. I figured that might put you into the proper disposition to discuss what’s happening with us. But your loving Andrea has her pot roast waiting back home for you in the ‘fridge, doesn’t she? It’s all about you again, isn’t it? I don’t even ski, and I hate snow. Damn, you can be such a prick!”
    “That’s cold, Sharon. That’s just plain cold.”
    Frosty pellets smacked the Trail Blazer like buckshot. Caked with compacted ice, the wiper’s blades slapped uselessly across the smeared glass, reducing visibility to near zero. The headlights revealed a billion dense flakes filling the world.
    Sharon rubbed a circle on the windshield. “The defroster isn’t doing anything. Maybe you were right about stopping. Maybe we should pull over, wait this out. ”
    “Yeah. Then, when someone comes along, wham! There’s no visibility, in case you haven’t noticed. A Snowcat rounding a curve could turn this vehicle into a waffle. Good plan. Stick to selling your condos, sweetheart.”
    “It was your fucking idea! Would you rather we spin off this godforsaken road where no one will find us until the spring thaw?”
    Matthew pounded the steering wheel. “Shit! Piss! Fuck!” He breathed hard, managing to reign himself in. “Let’s not do this, okay? Let’s –”
    . . . and then he shut up fast.
    He noticed the charcoal eyes first. Sharon leaned forward, again swiping the windshield while squinting to see through the glass. Matthew turned on the brights. Illuminating mostly the