Sam made a bed in the warm, scratchy hay and after two peanut butter sandwiches and the icy Diet Coke, she dozed. Covered in blankets and stiff garden bedding, she held a long kitchen knife tight in her grip.
4
Melvin didn't find a knife, hadn't thought to check his dead brother's boots, and the wind-blown snow covered him in a very short time. His body temperature dropped steadily.
Just before dawn, as death arrived, the painter was dreaming of falling into the icy pond behind their childhood home in southern Michigan. The frigid water was suffocating, no Henry there to pull him out this time, and as his heart stopped beating in the dream, Melvin went into cardiac arrest under six inches of drifting snow. He never woke, getting off easier than he deserve. During sleep was one of the kinder ways to die in this harsh new world.