Page 15 of Blizzard Babies
If they skidded off the road or something, the snow is coming down fast enough to cover it, so I haven’t found a god damn thing. And I’m equal parts pissed off and scared.
I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up considering the weather conditions, but I also can’t give up. Everything inside of me says my wife and her friends are in trouble. And my players—the husbands of those women who also happen to be my friends—are counting on me.
My unborn child is counting on me too.
Laurel is probably fine, but there’s that tiny voice in my head—the one that kept me alive during my time as a spy—screaming that she isn’t. Whether it’s our intense emotional connection or some other sixth sense I can’t explain, I know she needs me. So I will not give up. Not for any reason.
I pull off the exit and make my way to a small strip mall. This is a generally residential area with lots of little neighborhoods. I don’t know if the ladies are near here or somewhere else entirely, but I tend to trust my gut, and my gut tells me they came this way. Sara only lives a couple of miles away, and Laurel said they were dropping her off first.
If only I had a fucking clue which direction they were heading. They could have detoured, stopped for food, or who knows what else. I called local law enforcement just before I left the house, but they said there were no accidents so far; most people stayed home. They have all-terrain vehicles they could use in the snow, but with very little visibility, it’s dangerous for them to try.
Which leaves me to soldier on.
I pull a bottle of water out of the backpack I filled and take a long drink. It isn’t as cold as I’d thought it would be, but the wind is brutal.
Where are you, baby? I think, taking in my surroundings.
Streets are deserted as the wind howls and snow swirls around me. There’s already a foot on the ground, with a lot more on the way. I need to find them sooner rather than later, and I yank my phone out in annoyance, hoping beyond hope I have a signal here.
Missed call.
How the fuck did I miss a call? I jab at the screen to open it, though I can barely see it.
Charli Laasonen.
Charli called me four minutes ago!
Fuck.
I hurriedly call back, hoping I’ll be able to hear her.
“Gage!” She sounds far away but okay.
“Where are you?” I yell.
She says something I can’t quite understand.
“Hang on, Charli!” I leave the snowmobile in the parking lot and run toward the strip mall. Nothing is open, but I’ll have a little cover under the overhang, and that might help with my ability to hear her as well.
“You still there?” I ask.
“I’m here.”
Thank fuck. I can hear her clearly now.
“Where are you?” I repeat.
She recites an address. “It’s near the Book Cellar in the strip mall.”
Book Cellar.
Why did that sound familiar?
I look up and, sure enough, I’m standing in front of the store.
“I left my SUV in a ditch down from the highway. And Gage—Laurel’s in labor.”
“What?” I freeze.
