“Yeah, well. I witnessed your international tour through the food court for free samples.” There was a hint of a smile.
“Thanks, but I really shouldn’t. Jaz’s cousin is expecting me tonight.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea? It’ll be after three o’clock by the time we get to Buffalo. The Falls are only twenty minutesfrom there, but you’ve already added an extra hour or two to the trip to Manhattan.”
Now, she appreciated not only Avi’s company but his geography skills—no doubt sharpened over all those years spent on the road with his band. His calculations had her scrolling through budget chain hotels near Niagara Falls. At least it was off-season, so her wallet wouldn’t feel it as much.
Avi was a good driver, much to Leah’s relief. She wasn’t sure how a creature who lived on a tour bus half the year would function in normal society. But he used blinkers and knew how to check both side mirrors, and kept the cruise control right about where she did.
The one thing he wouldn’t stop doing was sniffing the air.
“Why is it when I turn my head to the left, I smell chocolate?” His tone was tinged with the intensity of a detective closing in on a suspect. “And when I turn my head to the right, I smell toasted walnuts. I think you have rugelach in this car.”
“I think you’re having a stroke.”
“Leah,” he said, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “if you’re holding out on me, I swear I will find it. Even if it takes the whole road trip.”
A chill rolled down her spine, and her tummy bottomed out like when she was listening to a really good narrator read a really good part in a really spicy book.I’d like to see you try.
“Oh, shit.” He squinted and ducked a bit to get a better look out the front window.
“What isthat?” Leah asked.
Cloud covering loomed large in the distance, descending like a dark gray curtain. It didn’t bode well, seeing as they were driving straight toward it.
“That’s lake effect snow. Very isolated, but…”
“Isolated is good, right? Like a small band of snow moving through?”
“Moving very slowly. So it might sit on top of a few square miles, but snow continuously. Let’s hope it’s not sitting over Buffalo.”
A place known for its snow.Great.They drove in silence as the city came into view.
The roads were still dry, but why did the afternoon sky look to be approaching dusk? A flashing sign readSKYWAY/ROUTE 5 CLOSED, USE ALT EXIT.
“They’re preparing for something.” Avi’s grim surmise was matched by a bitten lip as he maneuvered them into the downtown core. “Now I see why our tour manager was insistent on getting us into town early.” His dark eyes flicked to the rearview. “Not many cars on the road.”
Leah pressed the radio knob, turning the station dials from static to more static. It felt like they were in a zombie apocalypse movie.
“Try AM,” Avi suggested. Sure enough, some disembodied voice was slowly listing early closings in counties with unfamiliar names. And predicted snowfall – in feet, not inches.
The GPS signaled they were approaching their destination. “Fuck me,” Avi muttered under his breath. “This cannot be happening.”
“What?” Leah didn’t see anything amiss.
“The bus isn’t here.” He did a double-take as they drove past the back of the venue. “The bus should be back here.”
Out front, the marquee was still lit, the band’s name in bold lettering. A few people were milling about on the sidewalk, backs hunched to the wind.
“It’s a GA show…general admission. There’s usually a line by now.” Avi doubled back and parked. “Load-in would’ve been hours ago, maybe…” His voice trailed off. Leah realized his rundown wasn’t for her benefit. It was his cataloging of whatshould be steps in a normal workday for him. Trying to make sense of something that was clearly not right in his world.
He opened the car door. “You want to hang here?”
With the zombies?No way. “I’ll come with you.”
A door she hadn’t noticed before broke up the windowless expanse of the building, and Avi banged on it. It had no handle, just a keyhole, and was painted to blend in. He pulled a badge from his pocket on a long lanyard. Leah assumed it was his backstage pass, because as soon as he flashed it to the person who opened the door a crack, they were ushered in.
“Dude. The mayor issued a driving ban for four o’clock.” The guy was tall and lanky, pushing his winter cap off his sheepish brow with the back of his hand. “Had to cancel. Bus left about an hour ago. Hi,” he added, holding out a hand to Leah. “I’m Danny.”
