Jenny carried the plate out to the living room and shivered. Patrick repulsed her like no one ever had before. A real Christian would pray for him, but right now Jenny wasn't so sure she was a real Christian. The words of understanding and forgiveness wouldn't come. She didn't feel them in her heart and she couldn't bring herself to say them.

Ashamed of herself she turned her thoughts to the shed. When she was little her parents had told her that since Patterson County was so large and so many parts were hard to get to during certain times of the year, the sheriff's department did fly overs after major storms and hurricanes. She hoped after severe snow storms they did the same thing. She was counting on that.

People would raise white sheets from their roofs and that alerted the sheriff's department that they needed help. Tomorrow, if it didn't snow anymore, they would probably start checking on the residents. Maybe they would fly over and see her message.

She had only thrown enough pieces of wood on the shed roof for one message.

911.



Jeremy's eyes were bright. She lay her hand on his forehead and checked for fever.

"How you holding up?" she asked. She felt her stomach lurch as she turned to look at his ankle.

"I'm starving," he said, as his eyes went to the kitchen doorway. When he was satisfied no one was listening he gripped her arm.

"I have to tell you something, but you cannot react. Got it?"

She nodded slightly.

"I got the knife." He shifted over just enough for her to catch a glimpse of the hilt hidden in the recesses between the cushions. "When the time is right, I'm going to need you to create a diversion."

"You have to put it back."

Jeremy stabbed a potato with his fork. He shoved it into his mouth, chewing and swallowing quickly. "This is our only chance," he said quietly. "If we don't use the knife, they will."

Patrick's voice bellowed out from the kitchen.

"Hurry up Jenny. He can feed himself. His hands aren't broke."

She handed the plate over to him and nodded as Jeremy gave her a meaningful look.

"Coming," she called.


Patrick pushed his chair back and patted his leg as she came back into the kitchen.

"Come 'ere."

"I can help her with the dishes," Fin said.

"She can do 'em in a little while," Patrick said, roughly pulling her to him.

She winced as he drew her into his lap. He toyed with the hem of her sweater.
"Fin, maybe you want to talk to Jenny upstairs. You'd like that, wouldn't you, Jen?" She felt his hot breath on her skin as he played with her hair. She tasted half digested potatoes rise into her throat as he leaned in close and licked the back of her neck.

"You make me sick," she said.

"Do I now?"

Fin carried his plate over to the sink and turned on the water.

"That was good, thank you," he said.

Patrick let go of Jenny, and stood up.

"When you're done cleaning up, grab some wood off the porch. It's gonna be a long night."



She told Fin to go check on Jeremy.

"I don't trust him in there with Jeremy. Please go make sure Jeremy's okay."

Fin had nodded, offering a small smile.

She washed the dishes in silence, looking out at the shed. The soft glow of the moon made it appear almost day-like. She couldn't see any clouds and she said a quick prayer that not a single snowflake would fall.

"It's our only chance," she thought to herself.

The knowledge that Jeremy had the knife scared her. He was no fighter and she knew it wouldn't take much for either Patrick or Fin to get it away from him.

She pulled open the cutlery drawer and counted the knives. There were four large ones, a couple of steak knives and eight butter knives. Carefully, she pulled out the large ones. She checked the living room and carried them over to the trash can. She laid them down, pulling larger pieces of trash up and over them. Then slipped the steak knives under the refrigerator. She grabbed the butter knives and opened the drawer with the pot holders in it. She laid them noiselessly under the pot holders. Every knife in the kitchen was out of reach.

Now it would be a fair fight. Patrick wouldn't be able to come in and grab another knife. This time Patrick would be the one caught off guard.