Hollowed-out warehouses and graffiti-covered bricks line the landscape as the taxicab cruises into Fallowshill. In the distance, a spot light pans the horizon. The faint rise and fall of an alarm echoes. 

Maggie shakes her head. "Home sweet home," she whispers. 

It's only snowed a couple of inches in the city. Exhaust fumes and tire treads have already turned the snow-covered streets the color of coal. 

Maggie peers out the window at vacant alleyways. The cabbie pulls up to the curb at the corner of Park and Main. The big brick square looks faded and brittle underneath a starless sky. 

Maggie offers him the money from her pocket.

"It's on me," he says waving it away.

"You have to let me give you something. You drove all this way in a storm."

"Alright, alright," he says grasping the dollar bills. "If you insist." 

She holds out her hand to shake his. "I'm Maggie." He slides off his glove and wraps his mammoth hand around hers. There's a cross-shaped scar on the back of it. Maggie tilts her head. "Have we met before?" 

He shrugs. 

She stares at him a second longer, inspecting his features. "There's something about you that's so familiar. Are you from Fallowshill?"

"Nope."

"Are you sure?" 

He lets out a laugh, round and full, straight from his belly. "Sure as the hat on my head." His bright eyes crinkle at the tips. He glances out the window at the night sky. "I best be on my way now."

"Oh, of course," Maggie says, shaking herself out of her head. "I don't mean to hold you up." She pushes against the door and steps out of the cab. Why can't I remember? She shuts the door behind her. The itch inside her head grows itchier. Where have I seen him before?

The cabbie rolls down the passenger side window and holds out his arm. "I think you dropped this." 

Maggie pulls the piece of paper from his hand and unfolds it. Her eyes light with recognition. She remembers! Shop & Go. Exit sign. Shop Keeper's Bell. Army jacket. "Wait!" she yells.

The cab is already half way down the street. The service light on the hood goes dark.

She stares at the gospel tract clutched in her hands. She reads the words. "God saves."   

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"Who is it?" Joe's voice cuts through the static on the intercom speaker.

"It's me."

"Mags?"

"Yeah, Joe. It's Maggie."

The lock clicks. 

Maggie pulls the steel door open. The dim, dank hallway greets her. Its musty smell thickens the air, bringing memories of her childhood flooding in like a tidal wave. Hair-line cracks and scattered holes cover the walls along the stairwell.

Joe fumbles through the locks – two chains and a deadbolt. "Maggie!" His face fills with worry. "What are you doing here? Is everything alright?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Everything's fine."

He wraps his weighty arm around her and pulls her into the apartment. He looks past her out into the hallway. "Did Con come with you?"

Maggie shakes her head.

The creases in his forehead deepen. "She let you come here all by yourself?"

"I took a cab. I wanted to surprise you. You know – for Thanksgiving."

The lines in Joe's forehead smooth. His mouth gives way to a wide toothy grin. Everything about Joe is threatening, except for his smile. His hard angular features look as if they could cut glass, but his smile is soft and smooth. It's sort of confusing when you look at him. It's as if he could hit you with one hand and hug you with the other.

"Come in. Come in." He clears a space on the couch. "Sit." A crumpled bedsheet and a flattened pillow hang over the armrest. "There's a whoppa of a nor'easta along the coast."

Maggie glances at the TV. A white swirl is hovering over Cayder Bay Island.

Joe turns down the volume. "Power is out. Phone lines are down. They say it could take days for the island to dig out."

Maggie has one more thing to add to her "What I'm Thankful for List" – getting off that island.

"I must've made it out just in time," she says scanning the room. "Why are you sleeping on the couch?"

He clears a half-eaten frozen turkey dinner from the coffee table. "No reason." He makes a fast escape through the swinging door into the kitchen.

"Pffft," she huffs, pacing down the hall to his room. The bedding is pulled tight and the pillows are fluffed, just like Connie left them. A layer of dust covers the furniture. The room hasn't been cleaned in months. Joe hasn't stepped foot in it since Connie walked out on him.

Maggie paces down the hall to her small square and switches on the wall light. He hasn't been in here either. She glances around the room. There's a crack down the middle of the door from where he must've kicked it in the day they rushed her to the hospital –- the day Dread nearly stole her soul.

When Maggie was a kid, she used to stare at these walls and imagine herself in the middle of a flower field, far away from the noise and chaos of Fallowshill. Now, the flowers are faded and strips of paper hang from the walls.

She reaches into her pocket and pulls out the picture of Connie and her mother. She sets it on her nightstand, propped up against a lamp. Her eyes dance over their faces, bright and worry-free.

"I still can't believe Connie let you come here," Joe says. He folds his arms across his chest and leans against the doorway.

"It took some convincing," Maggie says with a shrug, pushing away his suspicious tone. Thanks to the storm, Connie won't be able to interrupt her plans to rescue Eli.

Joe's eyes shrink to narrow slits. "It just doesn't sound like her to let you hop aboard a cab in the middle of a nor'easta to Fallowshill, all by yourself."

Maggie slides her fingers along the layer of dust on her bureau. She waves her hand in front of her face. She coughs. "The dust," she says, averting Joe's questioning gaze. She slips an old t-shirt from a drawer and pushes it through the dust layer. 

She can feel Joe's stare burning holes into the back of her head. She's not going to be able to fend off his line of questions much longer. It's only a matter of time before she caves and tells him the truth. 

"Mags, did you come here so you could see that boy, Eli Blue?"

Maggie wipes the t-shirt across the mirror, clearing a path in the dust. She lifts her eyes to Joe's reflection. 

His jaw tightens. His eyes meet hers. "Tell me the truth."

Her throat turns dry. Joe is a human lie detector. He knew Connie was lying to him about her affair with Jonathan, just as he knows that Maggie is lying to him now. Why did she ever think she could get this past him? 

"Mags, tell me the truth." 

She slowly lowers the t-shirt to the bureau and turns to face him. "I...I." Her voice sticks in her throat. "I -- " 

The distant ringing of a phone cuts through the tension, breaking Joe's stare. "We're not done with this conversation," he says. He spins on his heel and hoofs it down the hallway. 

Maggie exhales. "Saved by the bell." 

"Yup?" Joe says. A hint of concern lines his voice.

Maggie tilts her head toward the hall and eaves drops on his side of the conversation.

He gasps. "Escaped?"

Maggie's eyes widen. Her entire body stiffens. Connie's phone is miraculously working. She must've found out Maggie escaped from the island. She's calling to see if she's in Fallowshill. 

Joe slams the phone down onto its base.

Maggie is in deep trouble. Real deep! She holds her breath and waits for Joe to come barreling into her room to let her know that she's grounded –- for the rest of her life. She free falls back onto her bed and lets out a long defeated sigh. There's no way she can get to Eli now. She has failed him. Again.

"Maggie," Joe says, rounding the corner into her room. He's clipping his security guard belt around his waist. "I have to go to the Detention Center. There was a riot and some of the residents escaped." He snaps handcuffs to the belt and drops a flashlight into his holster.

Maggie follows him down the hall into the living room. "An escape?"

He straightens his tie. "They're armed and dangerous. Make sure to lock the door when I leave. They're looking for places to hide in the city."

She trails behind him as he circles the room. He secures a Taser gun to his belt. "Whatever he says, do not let him in." He cups his hands around Maggie's shoulders and looks her square in her eyes. "Do you understand?"

She shakes her head. "Don't let who in? Him who?"

Joe unlocks the door. "That boy, Mags. Blue. He escaped." Joe races down the stairs. "Lock the door," he yells.

Maggie stares, wide-eyed down the dark stairwell.

"Maggie! Lock the door. NOW!"

Maggie slams the door and locks it. Two chains and a deadbolt.

A car engine revs and tires screech into the distance.

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https://www.deviantart.com/david-chambard/art/snow-in-the-city-80153140