Dead of Winter Read Online Free PDF Page A

animus, ellebarim, ellebarim, ellebarim… Ego agnosco ostium damno tui animus, ellebarim, ellebarim, ellebarim …” Then he opened his mouth wide and cackled.
    Father Xavier’s ears ached as the laughter from his boyhood memories returned. The gypsies circling the crowd. The fire-breathing clown spitting flames, cackling maniacally at a small boy crying into his mother’s arm. As Father Xavier shook the memory from his head, he heard skittering sounds. A horde of rats sniffed along the chalk line on the floor. Father Xavier reeled, praying the boundary would hold them at bay.
    “God is my savior. He blesses me.”
    “ I amthe only god down here!” Gustave yelled with a blast of fury. “Devote yourself to me, priest. Join my flock and I shall grant your every wish.”
    “Never!”
    “Then my horde shall feast upon your flesh.”
    The rats squeaked in unison. A gust of arctic wind blew against Father Xavier’s face, making him shiver. Rats crawled beneath his robe, running up his legs. He kicked out. Felt the urge to collapse, to curl up into a tight ball, to drown out that maddening laughter with his own screams. A voice inside his head shouted, “Run, run, run!” But Father Xavier willed himself to remain at his altar. Illusions. They aren’t real! The sensation of rats running up his legs vanished. He leaned toward the wind, the fetid breath of damnation. He sought that refuge where the Divine lived. The sanctuary he had created in his mind as a boy. The Golden Orchard. It gave him power. He remembered the reason he had become a priest, the pact he’d made with the Virgin Mary. His childhood fears dissipated. His body filled with faith. He squared his shoulders to the door.
    “I am a warrior of God. With His will I am strong.” Father Xavier stepped to the barred window and locked eyes with the cannibal that had butchered thirteen women. “You are no match for me, duke of Satan. And you are no match for God’s divine will.”
    The exorcist splashed holy water in Gustave’s face. The prisoner hissed and retreated into the darkness of the cell.
    Father Xavier held his holy book, and glaring into the door’s dark window, chanted the scriptures. “In the name of God, I cast out this demon.”
    Gustave screamed like a man on fire and ran face-first into the door. Bones cracked. He rammed the door again and again, his nose smashing against the metal bars. Blood sprayed Father Xavier’s face.
    Gustave Meraux dropped to the floor.
    8
     
    The dogsleds crossed the icy planks of Beaver Creek Bridge. As Anika drove, Tom kept a blanket bundled up around the little girl they’d found in the woods. She was shivering. He tightened his arms around her and did his best to rub circulation back into her stiffening limbs. The girl coughed vehemently.
    “Is she going to be okay?” Anika shouted over the storm.
    Tom said, “I’m doing my best to keep her warm. Just hurry.”
    On the other side of the creek, the curtains of snow thinned enough to see Fort Pendleton nestled among the aspens, spruce, and hemlock. The caravan of dogsleds reached the twelve-foot-high stockade wall. The top of the spike-tipped fence looked like a row of jagged teeth. Rifle barrels jutted out the slits of the three front watchtowers. The huskies barked.
    “It’s just us!” Tom shouted over the wind. “Let us in, quick!”
    The barrels retreated back into the square cutouts of the towers. At the gate’s door, a slat opened and a set of dark gray eyes peered out. “Did you find Sakari?” asked Lieutenant Hysmith.
    “She’s dead, sir,” Sergeant Cox answered. “We have the body.”
    “What killed her?”
    “We believe it was Silvertip, sir.”
    “Where’s Percy?” Lt. Hysmith asked.
    “Passed out, sir,” answered the sergeant. “We gave him some rum.”
    Tom yelled, “Let us in, Lieutenant! We have an emergency on our hands.” He held a lantern to the small Indian girl’s pale face. Her teeth were chattering. “We need to