“No shit? Huh. That’s cool as hell.” Breakfast was heavily processed, canned meat Peyton suspected was once beef, except he couldn’t read the Cyrillic writing on the label. Into that Jake added diced potatoes, onions, and mushrooms. He cooked in a cast-iron skillet on a grate over the fire.
“Sorry I don’t have fancy china or cutlery,” he said to Peyton when it was done, setting the skillet between them on a smooth-worn stump that apparently functioned as a table. “Not used to having guests.”
“I’m just glad to have it,” Peyton said.
Jake held up a spoon and a fork. “We’ll have to share the skillet.” He faked a snooty English butler voice. “Which eating implement do you prefer, sir?”
Peyton snorted and took the spoon. “I appreciate this, really. This is quite the setup you have.”
“Yeah, well, this time of year I usually eat a lot of fish. There’s a lake not far from here that I visit about once a week. Sometimes I salt or dry fish to keep it longer. The canned meat I save for when it’s too miserable to get out. I start stocking up late in the summer before it’s too damned cold and dumps snow. I miss junk food, though. A couple of years ago, I managed to snag a bottle of pancake syrup. I’d take a bowlful of snow and dump some on it and try to convince myself it was ice cream.”
They ate in silence for a few minutes. Peyton admitted the food wasn’t bad at all. By regular standards, not even by starvation and ate-a-dead-carcass and sock-scented-berries-that-gave-him-the-trots standards.
“Do you think we’ll have trouble reaching the border?” Peyton asked.
“There are a few small farms dotted around. I want to avoid those while on two legs. If your captors are still looking for you and made it as far as around here, they’ve probably stopped and passed the word, shown your picture, and offered a bounty. I also wouldn’t put it past the farmers to shoot first and ask questions later. We’ll try to avoid contact with people until we’re safely across the border. We won’t automatically be home-free, but I like our chances a lot better over there.”
When they finished eating and cleaned up, Jake pulled out his two largest backpacks while Peyton evaluated their supplies.
“We don’t want to travel too heavy,” Peyton said. “But we also don’t want to end up like I was when you found me.”
“As long as we don’t do something stupid like get caught again,” Jake said, “hopefully that won’t be a worry. By this time tomorrow, with luck on our side, we might even be in the air and heading to friendly territory.”
Jake had only one rain poncho, but he also had a sheet of plastic and a mylar blanket that could be used to stay dry. The tarps he had were too large and heavy to transport while they were traveling light. They took several plastic bottles of water, an extra blanket each, and several cans of food. Jake handed Peyton an old hunting knife while keeping a folding one for himself. Jake also had an extra sweatshirt Peyton could wear. Then Jake changed into a pair of jeans and old tactical boots, topping it with a battered military-green jacket. The spear he’d had last night was also a walking stick, and he had another for Peyton’s use.
Once they were ready, Jake stood and surveyed his cave. “As stupid as this sounds, I’m kind of going to miss this place. It’s kept me safe and warm and dry all these years.”
“Not stupid—it was your refuge,” Peyton said. “I get it. You missed Carl, but your only focus was on the basics of survival. You didn’t have to pay taxes or get your oil changed.”
Jake shook his head. “Jesus, it’s been forever since I drove a car. Hope I remember how.”
“Well, most of them don’t have keys anymore and start by pressing a button.”
Jake laughed. “Now I know you’re bullshitting me.”
Peyton grinned. “Actually, that’s the truth. They have these little key fobs for the locks, and sensors so you can’t start the car without them.”
“No shit? Huh. That’s cool.”
“Until you accidentally lock them in the car for the umpteenth time.”
Jake snorted. “Your wife do that?”
Peyton sighed. “No, me. And if you tell my little sister or my wife that, I’ll kill you. They’d never let me hear the end of it. That’s why I prefer my old truck. It’s got keys. My wife’s SUV is new, though. Fortunately, there’s an app on my phone I can use to remotely unlock the door when I do that.”
“There’s a what on your phone?”
“Never mind,” Peyton said. “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Jake led the way, carefully picking his path down what to Peyton looked like a treacherous slope, but was in fact fairly secure. Over the years, Jake had made himself a well-concealed path by moving loose rocks and identifying the most secure footing. It wasn’t exactly smooth going, but it was far less taxing than Peyton had imagined when looking down at it from the doorway of Jake’s cave.
In fact, in the light of day, it boggled Peyton’s mind that Jake had managed to carry him up this path, while tied up, at night, in the fog, and not fall or drop him.
They headed downhill into a valley, and Jake turned, pointing. “See? From here, you can’t even tell where my cave is.”
Peyton looked. Had he not emerged from there he wouldn’t have believed it. Even with his keen wolf eyes, he couldn’t pick it out.
The overcast skies didn’t provide them with helpful shadows for guidance, but Jake didn’t need them.
