Scrubbing a hand over his face, the worried man exhales. “Too late now, babe.”
With the blizzard swirling around him, he yanks up the vehicle’s frozen rear access. We shoulder our packs, rifles slung for marching.
Before stepping out, he cups my face, pressing a warm kiss to my chilled lips. “You got this.”
I hope so.
The wind howls as we trudge uphill. Sharp pellets bite my exposed skin. My cheap boots leak, turning my toes into ice cubes. Every step a battle, my damaged ribs screaming, I grab onto branches, desperate to stay upright.
Don’t slip. Keep moving.I lift one boot, then the other, reciting my mantra.
In a clearing by a rock I may recognize, I sit to catch my breath.This is where we leave the trail. I think.The last time I was here, it was summer. I had a solid GPS signal. Now, I have nothing but a belly full of doubt.
The unflappable Scott eases down next to me, his arm draped over my shoulder. “Okay. How much further?”
Throat parched, exposed face stinging, I swallow hard. “About a mile.”Pretty sure.
By the time we arrive at the shack, my fingers ache, and I can’t wiggle my piggies, but none of that matters.
We’re not lost. Woo hoo!While visions of a blazing fire take over my senses, I race to the door.
“Wait!” Scott shifts in front of me. Shucking his gloves, he raises his pistol. “There’s no smoke. No footprints. You positive he was here?”
The panic lodged in my intestines slithers up my spine.My boss said he was going to be here. He must be.
“Robert?” Voice trembling, I stretch for the handle.
It shouldn’t turn, but it does.
The metal hinges creak as I push on the wood. “It’s me, Kelly? You in there?”
Silence.
Hunt enters first, sweeping the room. My pulse pounds in my ears until he gives a clipped, “All clear.”
Inside, I kneel by the fireplace, place my hands on the blackened log, then shake my head. “Cold.”
My Fed moves to the stove, lifts a lid, and sniffs. Frowning, he inventories the fridge. “Eggs, tuna, bread, and milk. He planned on staying a few more days.”
“But where is he?” My mind conjures worst-case scenarios. Perhaps he broke his leg and lies stranded in this storm, slowly freezing to death. “We need to find him.”
Eyes softer, my lover shakes his head. “He’s been gone for at least 24 hours, probably more.”
I hold back a cry.No, no, no. He must be out there. He’s alive. I know it.“He could’ve built a shelter.”
Mouth tight, he bobs his chin. “Tell you what, we’ll start a fire. Afterward, you can take me to the lake.”
With a wave of relief crashing over me, I press my lips to his. “Thank you. I’ll just bring in a couple of logs. Be right back.”
Outside, I slog through the knee-deep drifts. As I yank back the woodpile’s tarp, a critter skitters away and vanishes into the woods. At the same instant, a redheaded woodpecker hammers his S.O.S. on a hollow tree.
My heart rate kicks up a notch before I let out a shaky laugh.Girl, you need to calm those nerves.
Have mercy on me Jesus.Something pale catches my attention.
Is that a nose? Frantic, I blink hard, doggy paddling away the thick white powder.
Open dead eyes. Blue stiff skin, much of it missing—gnawed away.
