Roy stood inside the cabin watching the snow fall. He sighed with relief. His plan had worked! Sure, there were some complications to work out, but he just needed to wait until the search effort died down. If all went well, he would be across the border within twenty-four hours.
He had left his phone back at the house. Roy wasn’t going to be one of those idiots who got caught because the police tracked his GPS. No, sir! He was no fool.
Roy was beginning a brand-new life. Endless freedom and possibility awaited. His new era was as fresh as the snowflakes that were plummeting from the dark, windy sky.
Sure, there had been a casualty along the way, but you can’t make an omelet without breaking some eggs. Claire had been dead weight. She was constantly nagging him about everything from taking out the trash to his performance (or lack thereof) in the bedroom.
Nine years of marriage was more than he could stomach. Thank goodness they never had children. He would have had to kill them, too, and that would have made things way too messy and complicated.
He had finally reached his breaking point when Claire suggested they fly to the Bahamas for their tenth wedding anniversary. The Bahamas? Are you fuckin’ kidding me? There was no way we could afford that. Roy was an auto mechanic at the local lube station. Claire worked, when she worked at all, as a part-time library secretary.
Roy knew that Claire would go bonkers batshit crazy if he told her that the Bahamas was out of the question. He had played along, pretending to agree to the trip while brilliantly constructing a plan to eliminate Claire for good.
Oh, he had thought about divorcing her, but he knew how that would end. Claire would tell everyone about all the times he had hit her, and she would end up getting everything. He would probably have ended up in some miserable homeless shelter. This was a frigid northern Washington state. No way he was surviving winter in a shelter. The way he saw it, this was a kill-or-be-killed situation.
He gazed out the window, watching the snowstorm continue its rampage. Roy had rented the rustic old cabin under a fake name a few weeks ago. It was a couple of hours from home, far enough to be outside the police’s main search radius. This was the most isolated place he could find, deep in the heart of a forest just two miles south of the Canadian border.
Roy felt confident that the police would never find him. He could change his identity and live the rest of his life in peace. There was nothing to connect him to the cabin or the local area. Of course, he couldn’t stay here forever. The cabin didn’t even have running water.
The killing had been the only part of the process that had taken Roy by surprise. Strangling somebody was way tougher than it looked in the movies. It took several annoying minutes before Claire finally stopped breathing. He reminded himself to use a chainsaw or an axe the next time he needed to off somebody.
He had rented a pickup truck with a fake ID. After he was finished with Claire, Roy had casually strolled out of his house and walked down the block to the secluded location where he had parked it. He wasn’t fleeing the crime scene in his own vehicle. The police could have tracked that car down faster than you could say death penalty. No, sir! He was no fool.
Roy stepped away from the window and walked over to the kitchen table, where he had placed his transistor radio. He turned it on and switched the dial to the local news. The radio guys were droning on about the nasty weather. After a commercial break, they began to talk about the big news story of the day.
“Police are searching for Roy Mortensen, age fifty-two, wanted for questioning after the body of his wife was discovered in their home earlier today,” the newscaster said. “Anyone with knowledge of Mr. Mortensen’s whereabouts should contact the police immediately.”
Ha! There was nobody with knowledge of his whereabouts. He had made sure of that. Roy walked back to the window. There was no television or computer in the cabin, so watching the storm was going to be his only source of entertainment that night.
Roy noticed something strange. A snowman stood in the distance. It was a couple of hundred feet away. Had the darkness and mist kept him from seeing it before?
It was a typical classic snowman with a top hat, buttons for the eyes and mouth, and bare tree branches for arms. It was smiling and its arms were outstretched, as if it wanted to give him a hug.
Roy wondered why anyone would make a snowman out here. His cabin was deep in the woods down a long dirt trail. The nearest house was miles away. Roy shrugged. Who cares about the snowman? There’s nothing to worry about.
He went back into the kitchen and pulled some snacks out of his backpack. M&M’s and Snickers were going to be his dinner tonight. Not great, but a small price to pay for freedom. Roy kept listening to the news, hoping to hear more updates about the police search. There were none. The cops were probably already giving up. He had won. It was over.
Munching on the Snickers bar, Roy glanced at his watch — 10 pm. It was time for bed. He needed to be fresh in the morning for the long trek ahead. His plan was to sneak across the border on foot. They would probably find his rental car eventually, but by then he would be long gone.
Roy walked back over to the window to see if there had been any changes in the harsh conditions. His heart leaped. The snowman was still there, but somehow it was closer. It had moved at least a hundred feet since he had last seen it. Then he noticed something else: the buttons on its face had been rearranged. The snowman’s smile had turned into a frown.
Roy’s mind raced. Maybe someone was pranking him. Or somehow the wind had blown the snowman toward the cabin. That didn’t seem likely, but it was pretty damn windy out there. Nothing to worry about, Roy thought. Whether it’s a prank or wind, ain’t nothin’ scaring me. Roy reached up above the window and pulled the blinds down. There would be no more watching the snow (or snowmen) tonight.
It was time to go to sleep. The cabin didn’t have a bed, but Roy had come prepared. He had brought a sleeping bag, warm clothes, and gloves. Roy again congratulated himself on his incredible brilliance and foresight. He sighed with contentment and quickly drifted off to sleep.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Roy woke up. Something was tapping at the window.
Probably a tree branch being moved by the wind.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
He glanced at his watch — 2:15 am. Damn! He needed more sleep.
The tapping continued. It was getting louder. Now it sounded almost like knocking. Was someone outside? If somebody was there, he would have to deal with them. Roy lay back down and tried to get back to sleep, but the incessant tapping was driving him crazy. He stood up and stalked over to the window.
“Who’s out there!” He huffed.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Roy hesitated for a moment and then pulled the blinds up. What he saw was impossible. The snowman stood inches from the window. It was staring at him. Yes — staring. Its eyes were no longer buttons. Neither was its mouth.
The snowman glared at him with icy blue eyeballs that looked like tiny frozen winter ponds. It opened its mouth to reveal a set of razor-sharp icicle teeth. The snowman’s arms had transformed into spindly tentacled talons.
Roy’s stomach churned. His heart felt like it had plunged into his belly. The snowman punched through the window, shattering the glass and sending a frigid blast of air in Roy’s direction. He tried to flee, but it was too late.
The snowman fastened an icy grip around his neck. Roy tried to free himself, but the snowman was impossibly strong. He stared at its monstrous face. The snowman was smiling again. A strange crackle emanated from its mouth. Was it laughing at him? He felt himself losing consciousness.
I ain’t fallin’ for this, Roy thought. This is just a bad dream. No, sir! I am no….
His final thought ended in mid-sentence as the snowman ripped his head off.
