“So,” Thea countered. She didn’t seem to care.
“What do you miss, Beau?” I asked, stopping beside them. I tugged on the earflaps of his cap.
He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“It’s his Legos or Milo,” Thea said as if there weren’t any other options.
“Yeah, I miss Milo,” he said, then looked at Bear. “He was my dog.”
“He saved us,” Thea explained. “The bad guys killed him.” She murmured the final part, and Jade looked at me, horrified.
I didn’t know any of that. In fact, I’d only known that their mother took them out into the blizzard and that she’d lost her mind. It was strange, actually, that Thea and Beau never talked about it. When Thea tried Beau shut her down, grew angry even, like he didn’t want the memory of his mother to be that she’d tried to kill them, and I could understand that.
“He was trying to protect you,” Jade said. “You must be very proud of him.”
Thea nodded happily, but Beau walked off with an extra slump in his step.
Jade’s gaze shifted to mine, her eyes filled with sadness, and without another second’s hesitation, she followed him.
I was happy she knew what to do because I was tired of hearing myself tell them the same uncertain words; it would get better, eventually; one day we might understand; they weren’t alone in all of this because we had each other now and we would figure things out. While it was all true, and while the words were temporarily soothing to us all, they didn’t bring closure or understanding, and Beau seemed to struggle with it the most.
Jade crouched down in the snow beside him, searching his crestfallen face. “Your Milo is not lost, you know?”
I stopped a few steps behind them, giving Beau space. “All things in life have a soul—a spirit. And just like my Jet, Milo’s spirit—your mother and father’s spirit—are up there at peace and watching over us.”
“Really?” Though Beau sounded uncertain, the hint of curiosity in his voice made it sound like he dared to hope.
“Yes. They are waiting for the lights at night so they can come out and dance.”
I glanced over at Thea. She was oblivious as she hopped around, picking up little twigs for tinder. “Look how many I already have,” she said happily.
I smiled at her and handed her another one for her pile.
“Maybe Jet and Milo are together,” Beau said, making my heart warm and my eyes burn.
“Yeah, I bet they are. Jet loved dogs, you know? I think he missed Bear more than any of us when he left. They’re probably inseparable.” Jade’s voice was buoyant and soothing, like a siren’s song that lured you in with warmth and love. Even I wondered about the afterlife and the peaceful that came with it. Perhaps Jenny really was in a better place, and I didn’t have to feel guilty for hoping so.
“Now,” Jade said. “These—” She picked up a thick, white stick. “These are birch branches, they are good for burning. These are the ones we want. All shapes and sizes as long as we can pull them down the hill.”
“What about these?” Thea asked, lifting a wispy, needle covered twig.
“That’s a spruce. We can use the big branches for building. It’s hardwood and strong. Good for hanging poles in the smokehouse and in the skinning shed. But not for burning.”
Everything Jade knew from living in the wild was like liquid gold. We needed every ounce if would make it in a world without noise to stave predators away, factories to make our clothes and the materials for our homes. We would have to relearn the ways of the past to make it in the future. “Let’s make sure we remember what Jade’s telling us,” I told them. “And ask a lot of questions if we have them. We can teach Sophie when we get back, and she can get them in her book.”
“Okay,” Beau said, scouring the ground. The snow was thicker on the hill under the shelter of the trees, but there were plenty of broke boughs to fill our small sled.
Bear barked at ptarmigan, white and hidden in the snow, and sniffed fox trails that looped through the trees, disappearing deeper inside. He explored the world as if the world hadn’t stood still will the four of us gathered wood until the sled full, and it was time to head back to the cabin. But I guess the world hadn’t stood still, it merely felt like it. It had always been big and uncertain, but without distraction it was impossible to ignore anymore.
“Here,” Thea said, adding more tinder to the top of the pile.
Jade brushed her gloves off on her pants and peered up at the sky. “We should probably head back down the hill and see if we can get a nice warm fire going in the cabin. That way it will be nice and warm when the others get back.”
“I wish I could’ve gone hunting,” Beau muttered as he walked past me to pick up the lead rope to the sled. Thea grumbled, too, just like her older brother, even if I didn’t think she cared about missing hunting all that much. She picked up the other rope, feigned misery on her face.
Unable to resist, I bent down slowly and picked up a handful of snow, molding it quickly before they noticed. “And miss out on all the fun?” I threw it toward them, and with wide eyes and bigger smiles, they looked at me.
It was the calm before the storm.
Thea screamed in excitement and gathered up a snowball of her own. Beau threatened to pelt us all, even Jade grabbed a handful of snow and the snowball fight ensued.
“I’m a gimp, you have to go easy on me!” I shouted with laughter, but the kids took no mercy on me. They assaulted me with one snowball after the other, so I was lucky the kids had little weight to put into them.
I hid behind a narrow tree, protecting little of myself, and the others went at it. They ran through the trees, dodging and ducking the slushy warfare. Thea giggled and screamed with delight, and for a little while everyone forgot about what they missed and what they wished for and had simply had fun.
“Okay, okay,” I said, stepping back out into the open. A snowball landed at me feet, and I lifted an eyebrow at the culprits. “We better get back down the hill before your noses freeze and fall off.”
Thea reached up and touched her nose with her icy glove.
“And we’ve still got wood to pile up before we can get a fire to get started,” Jade added. “Back to chores we go.”
“Can we have lunch too?” Thea asked.
“We sure can.” Jade rubbed her stomach. “All that warring’s got my tummy rumbling.” She picked up her discarded .22 and headed back down the hills. “Oh, look, Thea. This is the perfect sized walking stick for you.”
“It’s as tall as me,” Thea mused, standing up beside it. With a final measure of approval, Thea followed Jade down the hill, stick crunching through the snow with each step.
Content, I glanced beside me, expecting to find Beau standing next to the sled. “Beau—” I lost my voice and my breath when I saw him standing a few yards behind me, the black wolf pensive in the sea of trees, staring at him.
“Beau,” I breathed, slowly reaching for my pistol again, but it wasn’t on my belt. I didn’t have a gun.
I looked behind me. Jade and Thea were halfway down the hill, completely unaware. I had to swallow a primal scream for Jade to come back, but it wouldn’t come. The wolf stood as he did the night before, his head down and his yellow eyes focused on Beau. Amidst the desperation that tightened every muscle and the terror of uncertainty, something kept my feet from moving and my mouth from opening. Nearly as big as Beau and ten times as strong, the wolf looked submissive, and curiosity overwhelmed my instinct to be afraid. What was happening?
I lost track of time as I watched them; the wolf sniffing the ground, but his eyes never leaving Beau. Beau staring at him, never blinking. Finally, the wolf looked away, and like he was satisfied, he took a step closer.
“Beau,” I said, taking a very slow step toward him. Neither he nor the wolf seemed to notice I was there. I forced myself to take one even breath after another as I drew closer. “Beau, give me your hand,” I whispered, reaching for him.
> Finally, Beau looked up at me, but he didn’t reach for me.
“Beau,” I said, unnaturally calm but firm. “I said take my hand.”
He took a step toward me. “He won’t hurt me.” His voice quivered a little, and I wasn’t certain he believed that entirely.
“Maybe not, but I’m not willing to risk it. Come on.”
The wolf brought his head up, eyeing me like I was crossing I line I shouldn’t have, and I froze in place.
A gunshot pierced the air, and the wolf spooked, fleeing deeper into the woods.
Heart pounding, I glanced back at Jade, the .22 at her side. “Let’s go home,” she said, her chest heaving. I saw the fear in her eyes, and the bewilderment. “Bear!” she shouted, running a hand over her face as she turned to head back down the hill again. Bear ran out of the trees, trotting up behind her with his tongue hanging out of his mouth. “What are you good for anyway,” she groused, and leaned down to pat his side.
I took Beau’s hand in mind, gripping it as hard as I could to keep from shaking.
“He wouldn’t have hurt you either,” Beau said, and I looked down at him.
My head was moving back and forth, lost in an adrenaline rush of questions. “How—how could you possibly know that?”
He shrugged. “I just do.”
Chapter 44
Jackson
Brittle, winter-ravaged brush crunched under our feet as we made our way toward a rocky knoll. There was no trail to follow, just Del’s photographic memory from years of hunting the land. The snow was melting, but still dusted everything in the clearing.
We’d tracked the caribou and needed a bird’s-eye view for a proper shot.
“Where are the caribou going?” Sophie asked a few steps ahead of me. Although we’d had many target practices over the past several months, none of us had done any hunting. I’d only gone once when I was eighteen with my father.
“Del said they’re heading for their calving spots,” Alex said, adjusting his rifle strap as he slowed to walk beside her. Sophie side stepped a little, putting more distance between them, and once again, and Alex noticed.
She cleared her throat. “Shouldn’t there be more of them then? It seems like a small herd, and I thought the point of having so many was protecting themselves and their young.”
“Woodland caribou are more solitary,” I told her, attention half focused on Del as he brought the binoculars to his eyes. “And they’re more predictable, which makes them easier targets for poachers and trophy hunters.”
“You don’t like hunters then?” she asked.
“I don’t like people who break the law for a rack they can hang on the wall and then leave the rest to waste.”
“Well, we won’t be doing any of that,” Del said, and he waved us onward. “If we’re lucky, you’ll have an entire caribou to take with you to Whitehorse.” He pointed to a line of trees on the other side of the clearing. “There’s likely another small herd over there, if history is anything to go by. I’ve seen them there a few times.” Del glanced back the way we came. “Since we have the two snow machines, we can take back double the load. We may not get another chance before they’re gone.”
Del peered up at the sun then appraised the herd lying around about a half a mile out. “These guys will be on the move after the first shot. Then we’ll be on the hunt again and we’re wasting daylight.” He nodded toward a rocky bluff ahead with a few trees scattered around it. “It’s as good a place as any,” he said. “Careful though, the boulders are slippery.” He stepped over one and pointed to a dozen tiny figurines across the field. “Bulls only,” he said. “It’s hard to tell, so look for big, wide racks.”
The three of us followed Del up the knoll, our dark jackets resembling rocks in the distance since they couldn’t smell us downwind.
“Are you ready for this?” Alex looked at Sophie as we reached the top.
Del reached out to help her make the final climb, and she recoiled. “I’m fine, thanks.”
“Hunting? Yes, I’m ready,” she said, her voice wavering a little. There’d been so much going on since Slana, I hadn’t noticed how the kids were doing, other than alive and in one piece, but Sophie was growing distant again, and as I thought about the look on her face the day, I tried to help her and the fear in her eyes, I had to wonder if something more had happened in Slana than Elle would say.
“You’re up, Sophie,” Del said, crouching behind the boulder as he peered through the scope on his rifle.
“There’s no pressure, Soph,” Alex said, handing her his rifle. “In fact, if you get nothing it will make me look better when I go next.” Alex grinned.
I crouched down, out of the way to watch and wait. “Do you remember what I told you—”
“Safety on until I’m settled and keep my finger off the trigger until I’m ready to shoot. It’s hitting the target I’m more concerned about.
“It’s all a learning experience,” Del said. “From bullet to bowl, today’s the day you learn how to kill, dress, and store your meat.” I could hear the eagerness in his voice. Sophie propped the rifle on the top of a boulder and peered through the rifle scope.
Alex grinned with pride in his eyes as he plopped down on the ground beside me. “She’s totally going to get one and show me up, just to spite me,” he said.
“She’ll show us both up,” I guessed.
Del lifted his binoculars and studied the herd again. “I see a few bulls to the right. Can you see them?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“The shot’s yours when you’re ready. Anywhere behind the shoulder blade.” Del watched the herd as Sophie settled in. She fidgeted with the gun, trying to find a groove, then she took a deep breath, licked her lips.
I waited with bated breath, then she pressed the trigger. The shot cracked through the stillness and the herd startled.
“You got him!” Del shouted, and the caribou Sophie shot wavered and fell. “We’re on the move, gang,” Del said, grabbing his gun and heading down the knoll to the snow machines.
“Great shot, Soph,” Alex said, and he reached down to help her to her feet.
She took his hand at first, but as she stood, she yanked it back, causing Alex to stumble. Her eyes widened and her chest heaved.
“What the hell is your problem, Sophie?”
“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice trembling. She grabbed her head and let out a deep breath.
“You act like I’m a leper or something.”
“No—I don’t think that. I just, you can’t touch me. Okay? No one can touch me.”
“What does that mean?” he said stepping closer. “Why? What’s wrong?”
Shaking her head, she tried to pass, but I couldn’t let her, not when the knot in my chest was so tight I my body shook. “Sophie,” I said as calm as I could. “What’s wrong? We’re worried about you.”
“It was fine for a while, but—” She glanced between us. “Something’s wrong with me. Ever since Whitely.” She looked Alex right in the eyes. “You’ve felt it, I know you have.”
“Felt what, Sophie. You’re freaking me out.”
“Good, because it’s fucking scary,” she blurted. She stepped closer. “I know you’ve felt it around me before, you’ve felt it around Elle.”
I looked at Alex, remembering what he’d said the night in the truck.
“You might not know what it is, but neither do we.”
“What are you saying, Sophie?” I asked her. “Why do you think you’re different?”
She shook her head and straightened; she looked disgusted. “I know it, all of it—everything you don’t want to feel,” she said, looking at me, “I can feel it too.”
Her words were impossible, but it was the vulnerability in realizing if what she said was true she could see the darkest part of me.
“It’s when I touch you,” she said, and I could hear the misery in her voice. “The bad and the good, and I—I can’t hold it in anymore.”
“Why didn’t you say something?” Alex breathed. “At least I would’ve known I didn’t repulse you.”
She blinked at him, her gaze softening. “Why haven’t you said anything?” she asked him.
“This is what you were trying to tell?” I asked, my mind spinning. “You knew about this?”
Alex shook his head and threw his hands up. “I feel things, it’s stronger when I’m around Elle and Sophie, but I didn’t know what it was. Wait, is that why Elle wears gloves?”
“No, it’s because of the fire.”
“The what?” Alex and I blurted.
She glanced between us. “You should ask her about it.” Sophie looked directly at me, and the knot twisted tighter. Whatever she wasn’t telling me was pivotal, and I’d been ignorant long enough. My hands clenched at my side and I looked into Sophie’s secretive blue eyes. “Tell me,” I said. “Now.”
Chapter 45
Elle
I sat at the table with Jade, mending the wear and tear in our clothes I’d neglected for months. I turned one of Jackson’s wool socks inside-out, deciding on a red thread since I didn’t have black to match. I put a knot in the string’s bottom, only for it to pull its way all the way through.
“You need a larger knot at the bottom,” Jade said, peering over the rim of her glasses. She didn’t normally wear them, but they suited her.
“It feels like a cruel joke,” I said, staring at the pile of clothes. We were going to stop up on clothes before we left, but leaving in such a hurry, we hadn’t gotten to.
“What’s that?” Jade asked, distracted as she finished mending a blanket of her own.
“I made so many excuses about having more important things to do than mend, and now I’m stuck with months’ worth, enough to keep me busy for the next week at least, and I’m stuck doing it.” I laughed to myself. Our wardrobes were sparse, the amount of clothing we could bring with us limited to a bag each, but when everything needed repair, it was a daunting task.
Jade smiled and draped the blanket on the back of the couch. “I imagine domesticity is new to you.” She shrugged. “But you’ll find a balance, eventually.”
The Darkest Winter Page 24
