How the Hitman Stole Christmas - Sam Mariano Page 0,3

had to work with.

I try to shove down the vague sense of dread I get when I think about going back to that lonely house full of strangers who seem content to stay that way.

Maybe it’s not the idyllic holiday I imagined, but it is better than being alone.

“Jingle Bells” comes on the radio next. That’s one of my top three favorite Christmas songs, so I set aside my feelings of discontent and sing along.

As I’m singing about the fun of riding in a one-horse open sleigh, something seems to happen to my car.

I don’t know if it’s a particularly deep patch of snow I’ve hit or what, but there’s a forceful tug on the steering wheel. I tighten my grip, my whole body tensing as the car starts to wobble and pull to the left.

What is happening?

I pull off to the side of the road even though I’m afraid I won’t be able to get back on given how deep the snow is—and it’s still falling. I don’t know what else to do, though. This isn’t even my car, it’s a rental. Brady’s rental car. He’s going to be so mad at me. I shouldn’t even be on this back road to begin with, and now I could be stranded here.

I’m anxious as I throw open the door and get out to see if I can figure out what’s wrong.

Turns out, it’s no challenge at all.

My tire blew up. I’ve never seen that happen before. I don’t know why it happened. Was it something I did?

More importantly than all that, though… what the heck am I supposed to do about it?

I don’t know anything about cars beyond when to take them to a garage for an oil change, so this is more than mildly distressing. I didn’t set out to be stranded on the side of the road in a snow storm, but I guess that’s the night I’m getting.

Great.

I reach into the car and grab my cell phone out of the cup holder. I need to call Brady. This tire will have to be changed before I can drive the car again, and I wouldn’t have the first clue how to do that.

Brady probably would, but wouldn’t you know, I have no cell service.

Could this night get any worse?

The bitter chill in the air is so intense that it takes my breath away, so after looking as far as I can see behind me and in front of me and seeing no one else on the road, I get back into the car.

I guess I’ll have to wait here for a while. I can’t believe my stupid phone isn’t working, but I do appear to be in the middle of nowhere. I try to think of the last business I passed.

There was a gas station back a little ways. It looked permanently closed, but there was a car parked out front and fresh tire tracks, so someone must have been there. Maybe I could use their phone to call for help.

It’s so cold outside, I can’t imagine walking all that way, though. I don’t even know how long I’d be walking; I can’t remember how many songs ago it was that I passed the place.

Even if I do have to make the trek, I want to start out as warm as possible. The car still has lots of gas, so I turn it back on and crank up the heat.

“Silver Bells” comes on the radio and that’s my very favorite Christmas song, so I tell myself I’ll enjoy the heat just a little longer while I listen to it. When the song ends, I’ll start walking back toward the gas station. Hopefully, whoever was there when I drove past will still be there.

This road has been so empty the whole time I’ve been driving on it, it feels like nothing short of a Christmas miracle when I catch sight of a pair of headlights in the rearview mirror. I gasp, throwing open my door and jumping out so I can flag them down. With the road the way it is out here, they’ll need extra time to stop.

“Hey! Excuse me! Help!” I wave my arms in the air to attract the driver’s attention.

Much to my relief, the car starts to slow down. I sigh heavily and back up so I’m safely out of the way as the car pulls off to the side just ahead of me.

The door opens and a man climbs out. My relief grows and