The snow was flying sideways, so heavily he could hardly make out the sodium-vapor lamp on the machine shed across the road. Committed now, he pulled the hood of his jacket down and hunched his shoulders against the wind-driven snow as he trudged down the driveway in the dark. Judging by the intermittent drifts he waded through, it must have snowed a good four or five inches already. At this rate they’d be snowed in by morning. AJ and Mandy would be thrilled, but the idea had Joe’s skin itching again—it felt like it had grown too tight to contain his body today, like he was about to burst from its confines in a fit of fear-driven angst and leave it in a gory pile in the snow. He had to have a way out. When he reached the shed, he opened the walk-in door and flipped on the lights, stomping hard on the rubber mat to knock the snow off his boots. Then he leaned down and brushed off the fine coating of snow on his jeans, leaving them slightly damp.
