Ice Storm by Penny Draper

still shaking a little from the strong words lying uneasily in the room. She peered through the peephole and reeled back in shock when she saw two huge soldiers. She opened the door a crack.
    “Are you here alone? Is anybody with you?” the bigger one demanded.
    “Mrs. Hartley. Mrs. Hartley is here too,” Alice stammered.
    “Can we come in?”
    Alice led them to the living room. The soldiers asked a lot of questions about how warm they were keeping, if they had any food, how they were cooking it and stuff. They checked the thermostat, which was down to four degrees. They asked what had happened to Mrs. Hartley’s house, as if that wasn’t fairly obvious. They asked about Alice’s dad. Mrs. Hartley told them about her medicine. They asked her if she had family who could take her in.
    “I have a daughter outside of Montréal. I called her Monday before the phones stopped working. She has friends staying with her. She said she didn’t have room for me,” Mrs. Hartley said quietly. Alice bit her lip. How awful. Mrs. Hartley was creepy and mean and really didn’t know what she was talking about when it came to Alice’s life, but surely she wasn’t that bad.
    The soldiers said they should both be evacuated to a shelter, Mrs. Hartley because she was sick and Alice because she was too young to be on her own and her house was too cold.
    Alice turned wide eyes to Mrs. Hartley. “No, we have to stay here! My dad won’t know where to find me!”
    The shorter soldier touched Alice gently on the shoulder. “You can leave your dad a note. Tell him we’re taking you to the Eaton Centre on St. Catherine Street. They’ve set up a shelter there. There’s heat, food, cots and a pharmacy in the mall for medicine. I’ll even put my name on the note so your dad knows who to contact if he can’t find you.”
    Alice was unconvinced, but Mrs. Hartley seemed excited by the idea. “Will there be other people there?” she asked.
    The big soldier smiled as if at a secret joke. “Oh yes, Madame, there will be other people.”
    The big one went to Mrs. Hartley’s house to pack her a few things for the shelter. Mrs. Hartley acted like she was going on a holiday or something, telling him to find her best blouse, the one wrapped in tissue in the top drawer. The short soldier went through the house with Alice, preparing it to be alone. He laughed when she poured alcohol down the toilet, but agreed it was a smart thing to do. He pushed the barbecue into the garage for safekeeping and helped her check all the doors and windows. Alice wrote a note to her dad and put it on the kitchen table, anchored by the sugar bowl. The soldier suggested they empty the fridge and freezer and put all the contents outside in a green garbage bag.
    “The food will all be spoiled by the time you get home and your fridge will need a big cleanup,” the soldier said. “Might as well keep the mess outside.” Then he said quietly, “You were very brave to help your friend as you did.”
    “She’s not my friend,” said Alice unkindly. “Just a neighbour. A tree fell on her – nobody would just leave her there!”
    “You’d be surprised,” said the soldier grimly.
    In a half-hour, they were ready to go. Alice shouldered the backpack she had filled with overnight stuff, including Juniper and her cell phone, and took a last look at the living room. She hoped her dad wouldn’t be mad. But she could hardly say no to a soldier, right? As the big one carried Mrs. Hartley out to the army truck, the other one taped a big “X” across the front door.
    “What are you doing?” she asked him curiously.
    “This tells the other soldiers that your house has been abandoned and there are no dead bodies inside,” he replied.
    “Have people died in their houses?” asked Alice in horror.
    “Oh yes,” said the soldier matter-of-factly. “Some elderly people have frozen to death. Some houses have burnt down because people didn’t mind their candles. Some died