"There," I say quietly, pointing. "Three more snowmobiles. Coming from the west."
Svetlana tenses beside me. "What do we do?"
"We need to go out the back and move quickly. I saw a ravine about a quarter mile out on our way in here. If we can get there, we can lose them."
Svetlana’s chin is tipped up, but I can see the fear in her eyes. "And if we can't?"
"Then we fight." I look back at her. "Can you shoot?"
Her chin quivers slightly. "I don't know. I've never tried."
"Then stay behind me and do exactly what I tell you." I hand her the hunting rifle. "It's empty, but they don't know that. If someone gets close, point it at them. It might buy us a few seconds."
She takes the rifle, her hands unsteady. "Okay."
"Svetlana." I wait until she looks at me. "I'm going to get you out of this. I promise."
Her eyes narrow. "Don't make promises you can't keep."
"I don't." It’s all I say, and I can see the disbelief in her eyes. Fine. It doesn’t matter if she believes me or not. It just matters that I follow through.
The snowmobiles are getting closer. I can hear the engines now, that high-pitched whine cutting through the morning quiet. They're spreading out.
"Get ready," I tell Svetlana. "When I say go, we go out the back door and head for the tree line. Don't stop, don't look back. Just run."
She nods without a word, her face pale but determined.
I count the seconds, watching the snowmobiles circle. They're being cautious now, after what happened to Pyotr. They know I'm armed and dangerous.
Good.A feeling of satisfaction spreads through me at the thought of them being afraid.
One of them is getting too close to the back door. I can see him through the crack in the shutters, dismounting from his snowmobile with his weapon drawn.
I wait until he's three yards from the door. Then I kick it open and put two rounds in his chest.
He goes down, and I'm already moving, grabbing Svetlana's hand and pulling her out into the snow.
"Run!" I shout.
Behind us, I can hear shouting, engines revving. They're coming after us. But we have a head start, and I know this terrain better than they do.
We hit the tree line at a dead run, branches whipping at our faces. Svetlana stumbles, and I catch her, hauling her upright, half-carrying her in an effort to move at my pace and not hers. The ravine appears ahead of us, a dark slash in the white landscape. It's deeper than I remembered, with a frozen stream at the bottom. But it’s our only way out of this.
I look at her and see that her eyes are wild with fright, like a cornered doe. “You have to jump,” I tell her sharply, and I hear her whimper of fear, but she nods. “It’s going to hurt, but everything already hurts, right? You don’t want them to catch you.”
She shakes her head, and before I can think better of it, I grab her hand.
“With me,” I tell her, and we both jump.
She lands hard, rolling, and I'm right behind her. The impact jars my teeth, sends pain shooting up my legs, but as soon as we’re on the edge of the stream, I'm up and moving, bringing Svetlana with me.
“Keep low,” I murmur as we follow the ravine north, using it for cover. I can hear the snowmobiles above us, circling, searching. But they can't see us down here. Not yet.
We run until my lungs are burning and Svetlana is gasping for breath beside me, her pace slowing as she stumbles again and again. I pull her into a hollow in the ravine wall, pressing us both back into the shadows.
"Quiet," I whisper, and she nods.
We wait.
