by Emma Klepacki

Station wagons weren’t meant for mud. Or snow. Or sleet. And Jason knew that this morning. But now, donning his finest navy suit and powder blue button-down – a color pairing that seemed perfect in theory, but he could now hear her voice in her head saying it’s too much blue and he should’ve worn classic black and white – he was regretting leaving after the storm started. Jason was regretting a lot of things. The car sat in a wedge of ice, its wheels grinding against the thick December snow. Jason loosened his tie and slid it out from under his shirt collar. The roads were empty and had been for as long as he had been sitting there, about thirty minutes at this point. Outside the window, dusk taunts, the impending freeze thwarting any chance Jason had left of making it to the rehearsal, which would have started by now.

He met Alice a few years back on a business trip out West. Somehow, she had convinced a man always on a schedule to slow down and take a few extra days in San Diego to explore the city and the bars.

“After all,” she said, “you’re only 22. Gonna waste your youth in the corporate machine?”

Alice was everything Jason dreamed about–spontaneous, fun, positive, beautiful, and an actress. Well, she went to school to be one. She took care of herself with clear skin and shaven legs, primmed nails she got done once every two weeks. With all that time she spent making herself look so perfect, he didn’t understand how she had time for school, time to study. Do actresses study? He still didn’t know. Once Alice came into his life, he felt like he stopped knowing a lot. Love will do that.

Right now, the main thing Jason didn’t know was how he was going to get out of the snow. The car was still running, heat flowing and keeping him warm. He dreaded the thought of getting out of the car but at this point he had no choice. He reached for the door handle; the metal already cold to the touch. Pushing down, the door cracked from the ice outside. It was wedged shut, a pile of snow in front of it blocking the way. With a heavy sigh, Jason turned to the passenger door, leaning over the center console to reach the handle. Once again, no luck. He stared off into the horizon, as much as he could through the layers of falling snow and fog. The sun was almost set. Up ahead, a pair of headlights came into view. Jason fixed his posture and sat up, trying to roll down the windows. They wouldn’t budge, frozen shut. As the car got closer, he could see it was an officer. That could be a good thing. He slammed his fists on the glass as the car drove closer before coming to a stop beside him. Relieved, he signaled at the officer that he was stuck.

The officer took a moment before opening his door. He lingered, poking just his head out and squinting at the car. Jason knocked on the window, trying to draw attention, to let him know there was someone in the car. He tried the door again with more force, throwing his body against it. Again and again, he pushed. Snow budging slightly each time until the door opened about two inches. Without the frosted windows, Jason got a better look at the officer. He wasn’t what Jason usually thought of when he pictured a cop. He was scrawny, his uniform draped over his body like it was a few sizes too big. Jason’s shoulders tensed and his hands started to sweat. The officer came closer.

“Sir, how long you been out here? There’s been a warning since this morning not to drive.”

Jason avoided looking through the crack, not wanting the officer to see his face. It had only been a few hours since the incident, but he would be the first suspect given the circumstances.

“It was an emergency, officer. My wife, she’s in the hospital. Not doing too well. Had to go see her.”

The officer looked him up and down, peering forward through the glass.

“In a tux, sir?”

“Yes, it’s her birthday.” He lied.

“Well, I could, if you wanted, call someone to get you out of this snow,” the officer paced around the front of the car before returning to the window. “Can I take down your info? You got AAA?”

“Oh, no. No need, no need.” Jason panicked, “I can wait it out.”

The officer paused.

“What about your wife?” He moved closer; Jason inched back.

“Oh, my brother, he’s there too. No need. I don’t have AAA and can’t afford a tow or anything. I hear it’ll let up soon. Just gonna let the car stay on to melt the snow.”

“Well,” the officer squinted and backed away, “if you insist.” Jason watched as the officer got back into his car and began to drive off. He pulled out a walkie as he did, eyes lingering on Jason’s car.

Jason knew better. The officer was calling for backup. He grabbed his tie and pushed himself over the center console into the back seats. His shoes were on the leather seats. He always hated when people did that, but it didn’t matter now. Not much mattered. If the officer came back, they would ask for a license, and that couldn’t happen. He tried one of the back doors and to his surprise it opened. Stepping into the cold air, he felt his dress shoes fill with sludge. The snow was up past his ankles but seemed less steep in the wooded area off to the side.

The stretch of road around him was windy. Cutting through the woods had to eventually lead him back, maybe far enough away that the cops wouldn’t see, or they’d give up. As he trekked through the forest, trees stretched to the sky, swaying gently as if to keep themselves warm. He thought of Alice. He thought of who he was before her. He thought of her now, sitting cross legged at the table, her friends huddled around, rubbing her shoulders, and telling her he would be there soon. He thought of Jack. If he were there, he’d probably be comforting her too. Hands on her shoulders, around the small of her waist. No one had seen Jack all day. Alice didn’t yet know what Jason had done.

Lost in thought, Jason didn’t realize he had made it to a road until he felt the change under his feet. This one was much clearer, he could see the dark pavement at the center, warmed from the cars that must’ve been passing through. Staying on the edge of the road, he walked, folding the tie over in his hands again and again to keep them warm. To keep himself from thinking of what he had done with it before he got in the car. How he wrapped it around Jack’s neck. Jason had never done something like that before. In the distance, he could hear an engine rev. It started low, bubbling and crackling as gears shifted, growing louder as it came closer. Jason moved to the center of the road, hoisting out his arm, thumb up straight. A motorcycle came into view and slowed beside him. The driver put his feet on the ground, stopping the bike.

“Now I’d have thought someone put something in my drink, ‘cause what’s a man in a suit doing on this side of Laurel Street in this weather?”

Laurel Street. He was on Laurel Street?

“This is Laurel Street?”

The driver lifted his visor, revealing a rugged man with a wiry and unkempt mustache.

“Yes. I did say that.”

Jason took a second, looking around. It was so hard to tell where he was with everything cloaked in snow. He took a breath and nodded.

“Alright, thank you.”

He raised his hand, gesturing goodbye, and began walking North. If he remembered correctly, Laurel Street intersected with Long Avenue, which had the town’s train station. A perfect getaway. If he made it there in time, he could escape before anyone found Jack’s body, assuming they hadn’t already. It was worth a shot.

“Hey, you, wait!” The driver yelled, pulling the motorcycle up beside Jason again.

Jason didn’t wait, he didn’t even turn to acknowledge the man. He kept moving forward, fidgeting with his tie in his hands.

“You can hitch a ride, sir! I got room.”

Jason lifted his hand again and waved him away. He didn’t speak, his mind was too busy planning his next move.

Jason could feel the motorcycle lingering behind him. More than that, he could hear it. A loud, persistent hum roaring as the driver kept pace with him. It was alright before, but now the engine stopping and starting was all Jason could hear. He turned, confronting the driver.

“I appreciate it, but I really don’t need the help, sir.”

The driver put his feet down on the ground and laughed.

“You’re walking in below freezing weather in nothing but a suit, carrying your tie, no hat, no jacket, no nothin’! So pardon me for doing my civilian duty to make sure you don’t drop dead from hypothermia or something. Don’t take my ride, fine, but I’m not leaving you out to die.”

Not leaving you to die. Jason repeated those words in his head.

“I appreciate it, really, but I’m almost where I need to be. My car broke down. I live on Laurel Street; that’s why I asked. Please, no need for civic duty here. I know what I’m doing.”

The driver shrugged and let out a deep breath, shaking his head. He turned, reached down to the cubby beside him, and pulled out a pair of dark, leather gloves lined with wool. The driver handed them to Jason and lowered his visor.

“At least take these.”

Jason didn’t like where his mind started going. He was alone, and he had gloves. He didn’t have gloves with Jack. He began to sweat. Were there sirens in the distance? If the cops came by now, he would have no way out, he couldn’t escape on foot. But this man, he had a bike. He had a bike, and Jason had gloves and the tie. He still had the tie.

“Hey, man, you okay? Put on the gloves for Christ’s sake, you’re shaking.” With the motorcycle, he could get out. He could make it to the train station. No one would know.

“Sir, sir?”

He wasn’t too large of a man. Jason could take him.

“You’re starting to freak me out, man.”

Jason didn’t notice how heavily he was breathing, how intently he was staring at the driver, or how his hands were clenched around the tie. He put the gloves on one by one and forced his shoulders down to a relaxed position.

“Yes, I’m good. Just cold. Thanks for these.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

“What was your name, sir?”

 “Uh, Tyler. Tyler Johnson.”

Tyler Johnson. He probably had his ID on him. Jason could get used to Tyler.

“Thank you, Tyler.”

And in a moment, Jason lunged forward, knocking Tyler down. The side of the bike landed on Tyler’s leg, burning through his pants. Just like he did earlier that day, Jason strangled Tyler with the tie until he couldn’t feel him moving anymore. He picked up the bike and got on, leaving the helmet on Tyler’s head. It was the least he could do. He drove away, following the winding road.

This wasn’t how Jason imagined the night of his wedding rehearsal would go. He thought back to when he met Alice in San Diego. He was young then, naive. He still is now, but with two dead bodies in one night he couldn’t help but feel different. Alice did this to him; he wouldn’t have killed for anyone else. As he drove down the icy road on Tyler’s motorcycle, he could hear sirens in the distance. Maybe they were for him, maybe not. Regardless, he knew at this moment that his life was over. His career, his family–nothing would be the same.