THIRTY-ONE

They arrived in Alt Aussee on the morning before Christmas Eve. A heavy snow had begun just before dawn and had grown heavier as the day wore on.

The road from Bad Aussee was narrow and followed every twist and turn of a small creek that flowed toward the lake. By the time they reached Alt Aussee they had slowed to less than ten miles per hour. Snow caked on the windshield and turned to ice where the ends of the wipers couldn’t reach.

The three checked into two rooms at the Kohlbacherhof, a small Gasthaus at the edge of town adjacent to a small church.

Finally, huddling under an umbrella against the wet snow, Zoe and Seth walked the quarter of a mile from the Gasthaus to the center of town. Yost had been specific, only the two of them would be expected.

“By whom?” Zoe and Stratton had asked almost simultaneously.

Seth had shrugged. “He said they would recognize us.”

On the way into town, the only vehicle that passed them was a single tractor pulling a wagon loaded with hay. The farmer, bundled against the cold, waved at them as he passed.

Otherwise, they saw no one else until they arrived at the center of Alt Aussee. They passed several small stores: hardware, clothing, and a shop that sold toys, books, and sundries. All of the stores were housed in individual one-story frame or stone buildings set along the road and separated from one another by narrow alleys or driveways. All of the stores were closed. Christmas had begun for the gentle villagers at Alt Aussee.

About fifty yards past the toy/bookstore, they found a combination police station and post office set in a two-story building made of rough gray stone. When Seth tried the door of the building, however, he found it was locked.

“Where now?” Seth wondered aloud.

They stood in front of the building for a moment and turned to look about them. More stores lined the main street on both sides. But like the three stores they had already passed, most of them looked closed, their windows dark and gloomy. A farm truck, its cab rusted and patched with pieces of metal cut from cans, rattled down the main street past them, etching fresh tire tracks in the snow-covered roadway. Its driver, too, waved at them. They waved back and watched as the truck began to disappear into the thick shroud of snow. But before it vanished its one working brake light burned brightly as it pulled over to the curb. Seth and Zoe squinted into the cotton fluff blanket that covered the town and saw, just beyond the truck, light coming from the windows of a building.

They watched as the driver got out of his truck and walked into the building.

“Shall we?” Zoe said, taking a tentative step toward the truck.

“Might as well,” Seth agreed, following her. “It looks like the only inhabited place in town.” As they got closer, they could discern the outlines of a small cafS and beer hall. They pushed on across the street.