Midnight Solitaire by Greg F. Gifune Page B

threshold—he can’t, not yet—and the emergency door off the office is locked with a heavy-duty bolt and a bar, I already checked it. If he tries to come through that we’ll know it. Those are the only ways in, except for the vent, and in his current state he can’t fit in it any better than I can.”
    “His current state?” Greer asks. “What does that mean?”
    “Means he’s a shape-shifter too,” Luke chuckles. “This dude’s seen too many horror movies. Where the hell are all the plows and sanders? That’s what I want to know.”
    “The cop at the roadblock told me all emergency vehicles and plows were being called in due to the severity of the storm,” Greer says.
    “But there’s usually sanders and plows out early on trying to stay ahead of this shit.”
    “Maybe the storm was too fast-moving. The State can’t risk stranding a bunch of plows out in the middle of nowhere. By now they’ve probably either been called in to wait out the storm or they’ve been moved to roadways closer to higher populated areas. I mean, I don’t know for sure but that’d be my guess.”
    “No one’s coming to save us,” Doc tells them. “It’s just us out here. Us and him, and the sooner you come to terms with that the better off we’ll all be.”
    “Doesn’t feel like we’re ever gonna be better off again,” Luke scoffs.
    “The night’s young,” Doc reminds him. “We have a chance.”
    “But not a good one.”
    “No, not a good one.”
    “I go out, I’m doing it swinging.”
    I hope so, Doc thinks. “We need to kill the lights in here.”
    Greer blanches. “Why would we do that?”
    “Because with all this glass we can see him,” Doc explains. “But with the lights on in here he can see us too. He can see every move we make. Leave the candle burning, it’ll provide just enough light for us to get around but it’ll limit what can be seen from outside.”
    Luke finds the appropriate breakers and throws the first, which kills the road sign. The second plunges the office into near darkness.
    “So the only relatively safe way to check the roof with him out there is if I go up through the shaft.” Greer eyes the vent again. “But how do we know he won’t already be up there by the time I get deep into the shaft?”
    Doc watches her through the candlelight. “We don’t.”
    “So you won’t let me go out right at this guy with a gun but she can risk her ass sliding around in a vent shaft looking for somebody who might be on the roof?” Luke shakes his head. “You don’t have to go up there.”
    “I know,” Greer says, “but if she’s up there or in the shaft somewhere—”
    “If she was in the shaft she would’ve heard us calling her name and she would’ve answered. She didn’t. That only leaves so many options, right? She’s either up on the roof or she’s not. If she is, she’s been out there a while now and who knows what kind of shape she’s in? If she’s not, that means she either made a break for it on foot and took her chances in the storm, or she’s hiding in one of the units somewhere else in the motel. She could be dead too. Why risk it?”
    “Because if she’s still alive and hiding up on that roof all alone it’s only a matter of time before she freezes to death,” Greer responds. “Just like Doc said, no one’s coming to save us. If I can get to her and let her know we’re here, it might save her life.”
    “And what if you get up there and she isn’t there?”
    “I come back down and that’s that.”
    “It’s your decision,” Doc tells her.
    With a heavy sigh, Greer climbs up onto the front desk. “Then let me do this before I change my mind.”
    Doc goes to his nylon bag and returns with a classic Commando knife in a leather sheath, both of which have been coated with a black finish. “Here,” he says, thrusting it at her. “Six-inch stainless steel blade, razor sharp. Up-close it’s about as nasty as they come.”
    “Comforting.” She