It’s dark in here, but between the fire and a small battery-operated lantern on a nearby side table, I see that I’m in a cabin filled with long shadows and dark corners.
Whose cabin?And why am I in it?
A loud banging comes from somewhere overhead, followed by a scraping noise.I glance up just in time for a bit of snow to hit me in the face.Someone’s stomping around on the roof of whatever this place is.Wherever I am.However I got here.
I think I might throw up.
I lay perfectly still for a moment until the nausea subsides.Then I take a deep breath of the cold air.“Hello?”
I’m not sure how long it’s been since I last spoke, but my voice sounds weak and scratchy.My throat is painfully dry.I try again.Louder.
“Hell-oh?”
The banging stops.Whoever is up there must have heard me and now they’re coming down!
And then I remember—I was on the ATV on my way to drop supplies to Louise and Jeb.I got stuck in a snowstorm.And then…
I raise my hand to my mouth in horror.
I should be dead.Why aren’t I dead?Maybe I’m dead and this is some sort of waystation where I’ll be judged?
Because I know the ATV broke through the ice.I went in after it.Someone must have found me.
“Jeb?”I call out.“Louise?”
I claw at my neck in search of the avalanche whistle.I know I blew it.It might have saved my life.But it’s not there.
I do feel the touch of silky-soft wool at my throat, however.Maybe even cashmere.I’m swimming in a baggy cashmere sweater.Again, not mine, and again, a man’s.
I slide my hand down the front of my body and feel around under multiple layers of blankets to my bare bottom and thighs.I’m not wearing any pants.
I check further.Sweet baby Cheez it!I’m not wearing any panties!
I scream.
A door opens.I summon all my strength to pull myself to a sitting position, then scuttle down to the opposite end of the sofa, blankets clutched to my chin.I put as much distance between myself and whoever is about to show themselves.
Polar air whips inside, tossing around what looks like several layers of clear plastic sheeting.The door slams.
What the H-E-double-hockey sticks is this place?Am I in quarantine or something?
“Phoebe?Are you all right?”
A man’s giant weather-proof glove shoves aside the plastic curtain.He stomps his boots onto the floor and pulls away the hood of his parka.
“Hi, there,” he says, smiling.
I feel my mouth fall open.I collapse back on the couch.That’s not Jeb.I know that voice.I know that face.
I’m just not accustomed to seeing a wide smile plastered on it.
“Evander?”
He laughs.“Welcome to the land of the living, Miss Travis!Stay under the blankets—I’ll be right there.”He closes the sheeting.
I watch his huge, blurry shadow bend and move around.I hear him unzip his parka and stomp his feet again.
“Are you feeling all right?”he yells over a sudden howl of wind.“You’ve been resting for about five hours.I’ve been checking on you in ten-to-fifteen-minute intervals.”
