Bang!
The gunshot tore through the silent night. A sniper bullet whistled through the air. Blood splattered across the wall. The man slowly collapsed, twisting his neck before he died as though trying to see where his killer was.
Jason and Tim raced through the narrow streets as fast as they could, looking back toward the sewer entrance. Ice crystals clung to both their hair and eyebrows.
"Those cultists are seriously something," Jason panted. "They were holding a gathering in subzero temperatures wearing nothing but thin clothes. My God, they're the real Snow Monsters!"
Tim was leaning against the wall, gasping just as hard. Temperatures that low affected cardiopulmonary function. They had to expend more energy to maintain their body heat. If they had not just eaten a huge meal, they might have frozen stiff by now.
About two hours earlier, they had arrived near the Austin residence. Barry had already found something suspicious in the sewers behind the house: the manhole beneath a streetlamp not far from their backyard showed signs of having been moved by someone. The cameras had not caught anything, but it was obviously wrong.
So they went down and began searching the sewers. At first, things went smoothly. They soon found suspicious footprints and signs of activity. Following those traces, they gradually went deeper and deeper without realizing it. By the time they reached an uncharted area—most likely a passage dug out by the cultists—the temperature had already dropped below freezing.
Barry quickly ran out to bring them clothes. The problem was that moving around in thick clothing was extremely inconvenient. These cultists seemed to be rats; the holes they had dug were narrow and cramped. Neither of them was exactly skinny to begin with, and adding padded coats made it even harder to move