chapter
EIGHTEEN

I felt a jab in my throat.

I clawed my way back from sleep, back into the darkness of the motel room. It felt like a knife. I twisted around in a daze and banged my arm. Through the gloom I saw the outline of a fridge, poking at me with the corner of its door.

“Stop that,” I said lying back down. “I do not want any Primula cheese from a tube, and I don’t want to play with any fridge magnets, if that’s what you wanted to ask.”

“Listen,” said the fridge. “There’s someone trying to get in.”

A shadow.

“Make yourself at home,” said a woman’s voice through the darkness. “Sorry it’s not more upmarket. I thought it would be less obtrusive for the fridges.”

“Nena?” I fumbled for the bedside light and finally flicked it on. It threw out a sad yellow pool of light, but it was enough to see her face, flushed with the night air.

“Blond hair suits you,” she said. “Want a drink? I have whiskey.”

“You scared me.” I heaved myself up on the edge of the bed, feeling the dry edges of my lips. “And I didn’t mean to sleep. How long have I been out?”

“It’s 1 a.m. Here.” She had poured some whiskey into a glass and handed it to me. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I said.

“Good. You met the fridges, then?”

“Yeah. And they’ve made me really at home with their close-harmony singing and offers of processed cheese.”

“You’ve seen what’s inside them?”

“This fellow has some Primula, but I don’t think they have a lot of food.”

She nodded as I knocked back the rest of the whiskey and felt it course through my body, settling with a burn in my stomach.

“Better?” she said.

“Yeah. What took you so long?”

She poured another glass. There was a warm, comfortable silence interrupted by the chinking of the bottle neck.

“I was followed. And then I got to wondering whether you would have the cops waiting here for me so you could bargain your way out.”

“That would have been the sensible thing to do, now you mention it.”

She shrugged and then got up, rummaging through the closet until she found a blanket.

“But you decided I wouldn’t? Am I so easy to read?” I said.

“People who have lost their way in life are always easy to read. It goes with the territory.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s in your eyes. You might as well have a note stuck to your forehead. Get some rest. I’ll take this side of the bed.” She threw down the blanket.

“So, tell me what you see.”

“No. Get some rest. You can spend the night here. But tomorrow you need to forget about me, okay? You just walk away. Get out of town.”

“Why not tell me? What’s the big deal?”

“You might find it harder to sleep.”

“I’ll sleep.”

“All right. You want to start living again, but you don’t know where to find the switch. You’re trying to deny this is your life because you think you deserve a better one. And that maybe if you keep pushing the reality of your life away, that other perfect life you dreamed about will magically appear. But this is your life, isn’t it?”

“Is that what you see?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it’s bullshit. And you really think I’m going to run from this city tomorrow?”

“That’s exactly what you’re going to do. Now, get some rest. You were vulnerable, and I took advantage. That’s all there is.”

“Weird!” said the Frost Fox by the window. “The lot is full of red mist.”

“Mist?” Nena got to her feet, flicked off the light, and peered through the edge of the curtains. “That’s red smoke.”

I looked out and saw shadows throwing their bulk about, and pinpoint laser lights were cutting the darkness into slices.

“Security Detail,” she said.

“Should I do my owl call to signal danger?” said the Ice Jumper.

“Quiet, little fellow,” Nena chided. “They sure as hell didn’t follow me.

“I suspect they’re here by invitation of the man in the lobby.”

“You checked in at the lobby?”

“Yeah. Bad move, eh? Sorry.”

“Hoooot!” went the fridge.

“Sh!”

“We’re going to have to move fast,” she said. “And leave the fridges.” She froze for a moment, as though she had only just understood what her own words meant.

“Is that a problem? They do just hold food and hum a bit,” I said, looking at her.

“Hey! Don’t trivialize the important role we play in society,” said the Frost Fox.

“Yeah! We fridges have a lot to offer. What about the Thermo King that became Washington State checkers champion four years in a row?”

“I heard about that,” said the tumble dryer. “He wanted to take up chess, but couldn’t get the hang of the horsey piece.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. You guys take care,” I said, as Nena grabbed me by the arm and pulled me toward the bathroom.

“Hell, we’ve been in worse corners than this,” said the Cold Moose.

“I’ll bet you have,” I said. But I somehow doubted it. We both knew the Fridge Detail would be called, and they’d all be taken away to the Cold Compound and then the dumps in the desert. There were huge camps of refrigerators there. Some of them had gone completely feral. They were all going to hell. But Christ, they were only fridges.

The ceiling in the bathroom was made of cheap panels. Nena climbed onto the bath and knocked one out. Dust showered down. She put her foot on the sink and sprang up.

Then she turned and offered me her arm to help me through. I struggled up, flaying my legs hopelessly against the wall until I was lying belly down on a beam in the roof space.

It was unbelievably dark.

She replaced the panel, dousing the square of light so I could see nothing.

“Keep on the beam,” she whispered and I heard her moving away. I tried to follow. We were still over the room when we heard the door being smashed in and a cacophony of muffled voices.

“Freeze!” the police were shouting.

Even from up here, I could hear the dramatic increase in humming from the fridges.

I smiled. I was actually getting to like those guys.

A pity they were all going to hell.