Her breath caught. Cullen Landry had most definitely saved their lives.
Any other position outside the protection of the mill and they would have been crushed. Breath puffing inside her mask, she turned in a complete circle, her brain spinning and useless. They were alive, yes.
But where would they go from here? How would theyget there? The ATV, even if it was still operable, was walled up in every direction. Windblown ash stung her eyes.
She felt a wild sense of sorrow, the same sickening lurch that had flooded her soul when her father died before they could embark on their fanciful journey, and when she’d miscarried. It was twined with fury at the unnatural ending of things, a savage snip that abruptly severed a person from their purpose.
Purpose.The word felt like a taunt.
Up until the day before, she’d known her purpose absolutely: securing her independence with her truck, living her life on her own terms, interacting only with people she chose, when she allowed it. In the face of destruction, independence was a laughable goal and it crumbled away, leaving only unruly survival instincts. She’d never appreciated it, not really, God’s gift of life. Each breath, every morning, the people who came and went, all gifts she hadn’t savored.
One detour, one moment to help Annette ... and everything had changed.
Now she certainly did appreciate that divine gift ... as she stood on the precipice of losing it.
A memory flashed across her vision.
Annette, her neck craned up to talk to Kit through her open driver’s window, the pink coat buttoned over a bulge that had thrashed and moved, her baby.“His nameis Nico. He kept meprisoner,made me into a ... It’s been years.” Annette’s lips had quivered as she said the words, her cheap rhinestone earrings catching a beam of sunlight.“Ifinally got away. I’m meeting someone,but Nico’safter me,and if I don’t get out ofhere fast...”
She remembered herself saying with uncharacteristic impulsiveness,“Get in.”
Her moment of deviation from the plan had cost her the truck and her life, likely. But for some reason, she knew she’d make the same choice again, and she would continue to make choices to keep Tot alive until she was physically unable to do so. Because there was something more important than her goals and plans.
Infinitely more important.
A branch whirled by, flinging freezing droplets of moisture against her forehead. If she had to strap Tot to her body and climb over the cage of monstrous broken trees, she would.
But she couldn’t leave Cullen. There was no way to manage them both.What am I going to do?
Her limbs shook with cold and fear, and sparkles danced around her. Tiny ice crystals were falling along with the ash as time slowly passed. It was going to snow? Now? How would she keep Tot from freezing? Herself and Cullen too?
She scanned the devastation, and an audacious idea ignited. There were plenty of sticks littered about if she could dry them out sufficiently. Jagged walls of brick stood not five feet from their trapped vehicle, within the perimeter of the safety zone provided by the bones of the old mill. She could make a fire within their meager oasis. The air was poisonous, sure, and there was no way she could keep Tot out in the elements for long, but maybe she could make a fire and warm them up as needed. When it got too cold in the ATV, they’d scuttle out with masks, then return to the shelter of the vehicle. Repeat as necessary.
Hour by hour, they’d survive.
There was also the slimmest chance a rescue helicopter would spot the flames.
That was probably pure delusion. Slim to no chance of rescue, and equally as slender a possibility that Archie would come looking for them.
Didn’t really matter.
Unless she acted, they would freeze in that drafty vehicle, cold and exposure exterminating them, doing the job for Nico and Simon. But the brothers wouldn’t get the envelope they’d risked everything for. That thought gave her a spark of satisfaction.
Back at the driver’s door, she swiped a forearm across the sooty window to look inside. Tot peeked back at her over the top of the teddy bear. Safe and not screaming. In the back, Cullen had moved slightly but remained unconscious, crammed in the fetal position on a seat a couple feet too short for his frame.
To minimize the exchange of bad air for good, she edged to the back, quickly reached in and grabbed her pack and the bundle Archie had insisted they bring along, and then closed it again.
Archie’s foresight would be a lifeline: a plastic-wrapped pile of logs, a neat firewood bundle, dried and ready.
Thankyou,Archie.She prayed again that he was not suffering, wherever he was.
She moved slowly along, gathering some torn-away branches and chunks of wood that had tumbled into the vicinity. Hopefully they’d dry out enough to burn when Archie’s supply ran low. How long? How many hours, days could she remain with limited supplies, a makeshift shelter, no medical care for Cullen...
Teeth gritted, she tossed the wood down in the brick corner and cut away the plastic wrapping with her penknife. She’d read plenty of articles about wilderness survival but nothing specific about the proper way to start a fire in the middle of a volcanic eruption. In a suitable spot she laid down a latticework of small pieces of wood and lit a match from the waterproof canister. It fizzed and flickered and flamed out before it caught the wood.
She added a few pine needles and tried a second match, but they did not ignite either. A third and fourth attempt reduced her to eight matches, which she was terrified to waste. Her pocket yielded nothing flammable but the map, and she couldn’t commit that to the flames.Come on,Kit.You have something that will work. Think.She pawed through the pack until her fingers found a crinkly bag.
Doritos. She grinned.
