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through the blowing frozen
precipitation.
    "As much as I'll ever be."
    Using his chin, he motioned for her to precede him. They'd
trudged
only a few yards when they determined that trying to walk uphill on the
road's icy surface would be futile. For every step forward they took,
they slipped back three. Tierney nudged her toward the road's shoulder.
It was narrow, often forcing them to walk single file, hugging the
embankment and dodging outcropping boulders. However, the uneven ground
actually worked to their advantage. They found purchase on rocks and
vegetation beneath the ice and sleet.
    The grade was steep. On a fair day with ideal weather
conditions,
the uphill hike would have been a strenuous workout for even the most
physically fit. Most of the time, they were walking directly into the
wind, which forced them to keep their heads bent against it, sometimes
walking blind through a maelstrom of ice pellets that felt like shards
of glass when they struck the exposed skin of their faces.
    They stopped frequently to catch their breath. Once Tierney
stopped
suddenly, turned away from her, and vomited, leading her to believe
that he had a concussion. At the very least. She noticed that he had
begun to favor his left leg and wondered if he also had a fracture.
    Finally, walking became such an effort for him she insisted
that he
place one arm across her shoulders. He did so reluctantly, but out of
necessity. With each footstep he leaned more heavily upon her. She
slogged on.
    They reached a state of total exhaustion and continued only
because
they had to. The distance she had covered in three minutes by car took
almost an hour on foot. They were stumbling over each other by the time
they reached the cabin's porch steps.
    Lilly propped him against a support post on the porch while
she
unlocked the door, then assisted him inside. She paused only long
enough to shut the door and dump her handbag on the floor before
collapsing onto one of the sofas. Tierney slid his backpack off and
sprawled on the sofa facing hers, separated by the coffee table.
    For several minutes they remained where they'd landed, their
breath
soughing loudly in the darkness. Because she had turned off the heat
before leaving, the room was cold. But compared with outside, it felt
balmy.
    Lilly didn't think she would have the energy ever to move
again, but
eventually she stirred and sat up. She reached for the lamp on the end
table and switched it on. "Thank goodness," she said, blinking against
the sudden light. "I was afraid the electricity may have been shut off
by now."
    She unloaded the cans of food from her pockets and set them on
the
coffee table, then fished out her cell phone and punched in a number.
    Suddenly alert, Tierney sprang up and asked, "Who are you
calling?"
    "Dutch."
    CHAPTER  5
    Lilly's prediction about the chaos in town had been correct.
Dutch
had been back for only a couple of hours, and already he was wishing
for the peace of his mountain cabin.
Formerly
his
cabin, he
thought bitterly.
    Rush hour in downtown Atlanta had never been as congested as
Main
Street in Cleary this evening. It was bumper to bumper in both lanes, a
ribbon of red taillights on one side, a ribbon of white headlights on
the other. Everyone on one side of town seemed bent on getting to the
other side, and vice versa.
    The sheriff's office was dealing with the outlying areas of
the
county, leaving the township itself up to Dutch and his department. Now
would have been a good time for a burglar to burgle, because no one was
at home where they should be, and every police officer was busy trying
to control the pandemonium generated by the approaching storm.
    The signal light at Moultrie and Main was busted again. On any
other
day it would be no big deal. Drivers would take turns, politely waving
one another through the intersection and joking about the
inconvenience. But today, when patience was wearing thin, the
malfunctioning traffic light had caused a gridlock that was