Down and Dirty

by Taylor Holloway

  The mother moose, however, wasn’t nearly so smart or so careful. She didn’t give a shit about humans, headlights, or anything else besides her baby. She was pissed, and something or someone was going to pay for her trouble. Harley was howling, the wolves were yelping, and four very bright lights were focused on the moose. She was confused, overwhelmed, and angry. Mama moose ran right toward us, sending the frightened wolves scattering in every direction but ours, and connected headfirst with my dream girl’s very real SUV.

  In an existential battle between moose and vehicle, unless the vehicle is an armored tank, the moose will always win by a mile. One of the first things that I learned when I first came to Alaska was that moose are responsible for more vehicular homicides here than people by a large margin. Because their center of gravity is so high, and they weigh so much, the moose can usually walk away from a collision that’s fatal to both the driver and passenger of a car.

  So, by the time Mama moose removed her gigantic skull from the newly demolished passenger side door of the SUV and backed up for a second blow, I had already scooped the girl up from the snowbank and begun a hasty retreat to my truck. In my adrenaline rush, putting a hundred and twenty pounds over my shoulder was an easy lift, despite her shocked struggle. At least she wasn’t screaming anymore. The mother moose looked up into the headlights of my truck and clearly considered changing her target. I raised the rifle and prayed that I wouldn’t have to shoot her. Killing the Mama moose would mean the baby would die as well, and neither had done anything but be moose. The baby would never survive until spring without its mother to protect it. I fired a warning shot, and thankfully, the Mama moose decided to continue her assault on the SUV instead of making her way toward me. The sound of her crushing the metal and glass was tremendously loud.

  Praying she would work out her frustration on the SUV and leave us alone, I set the girl down next to my still-open driver’s side door. I was about to put a hand to her lips to tell her to hush, but when I saw her lips had turned blue and her eyes had glazed over, I realized there was another problem. Dream girl was hypothermic; she was literally freezing to death in my arms.

  I set her in my back seat and tended to her as best I could. Fantasies and theories about her started swimming in my head. Maybe she was lost? Maybe she was a researcher from the nearby university outpost? I couldn’t figure out why a woman like her, dressed like her, would be so close to my cabin.

  Then she woke up and revealed that she was the enemy.

  3

  Jenna

  The silence in the now-stationary truck was thick and tense. Nicholas’ face had gone blank and his eyes were wide. A moment later they narrowed dangerously, and he lunged forward and grasped both my shoulders in his huge hands. I gasped and tried to wriggle away, but it was futile. He shook me.

  “Who are you really. Did my father send you? What do you want?” Nicholas’ voice no longer had a gentle, calming quality. He sounded much more like his father now: brusque, cold, and domineering. I froze at his tone. Somehow my body found more adrenaline and started pumping it furiously through my veins.

  To my immediate right, the dog perked up at its master’s reaction. It growled low in its throat, a deep, threatening noise that reminded me too much of the wolves. I started shaking like I was still hypothermic.

  “I-I just told you that,” I stuttered, trying unsuccessfully to pull out of his grasp, “My name is Jenna. Jenna Masters. I’m working a right now as an amateur process server, but I work for Durant Industries. I’m here to give you a copy of your grandfather’s will. If you didn’t know, he’s dead. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Nicholas continued to hold my shoulders immobile. Our faces were inches apart in the truck. I’m sure my eyes couldn’t get any wider. The dog growled again, and my trembling intensified. I’d thought he’d be irritated at being located, but definitely not dangerous. What if I was wrong? What if he was deranged?

  “You’re scaring me,” I finally said in a whisper, as if admitting it could do any good, “please let go of me.”

  Surprisingly, Nicholas released his hold on me instantly. He moved back and out of my immediate vicinity, at least as much as possible within the narrow confines of the vehicle. His expression had shifted again, this time from what looked like shocked anger to shocked contrition. If anything, he looked angry at himself.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, running his hands through his hair in apparent frustration. “I’m not— I won’t—,” he attempted to say, but didn’t seem to know how to finish his thought. It seemed like he was trying not to frighten me, and trying to reassure me that I was safe, but he was doing a lousy job.

  Nicholas had the truck, the dog, the gun hanging on the rack behind me, probably ninety pounds of muscle on me, and a thousand miles of Alaskan wilderness in which to dump my body. I had absolutely no way to protect myself if he turned on me or wanted to harm me in any way. He stared at me as he obviously came to the same conclusion. If either one of us needed to be afraid in this moment, it was me.

  He took a deep breath.

  “I’m not a threat to you, I swear, but I do need to know. Who do you really work for? How did you find me?” He finished much more weakly than he started. He still sounded sharp, but there was a new edge to his tone that made me worry that he was still trying to figure out what to do with me.

  Now it was my turn to stammer again.

  “I told you. I’m telling you the truth,” I said, confusion and fear still swirling in my stomach. The massive dog at my side was still on high alert, and I could feel it’s hot, odorous breath on my skin. Every time I moved, it tensed and growled in response. “I’m on an assignment right now to serve you the will. I work for Durant Industries. I work for Oliver Miller, in Finance.”

  My answer seemed to mollify him, or at least give him something to think about. He paused. I took advantage of his momentary silence.

  “Where are you taking me,” I asked, still not sure I was safe with him, “back to town? To a hospital?” I asked hopefully. I took another drink of the coffee and tried to pretend like I was calm and in control of this conversation.

  He actually smirked at my question, which made me tense up even more and return to a panic in an instant. Seeing my fear, he spread his hands out in a peaceful gesture. He took a deep breath before replying.

  “Jenna,” he said slowly, trying out my name for the first time, “we’re in a truck in the middle of a blizzard. It’s dangerous. I’m taking us both to the first safe shelter we can reach. My house. There are no hospitals out here for hundreds of miles. You don’t even really need one. You just need to stay warm. It’s too dangerous to do anything else. Unless you want me to take you back to your car, which I really don’t recommend because you will freeze to death since it just suffered a moose-attack. I’m not thrilled about the prospect either, but you’re going to have to stay the night with me.”

  Seeing no alternative, all I could do was nod and hope.

  4

  Nicholas

  Jenna knew who I really was. In an instant she’d gone from being my dream girl to my greatest nightmare. Yet, even though panic, anger, and dread were coursing through me like a poison, it was hard to work up any vitriol. I couldn’t make myself feel anything but shock and desire toward the fragile, frightened, beautiful woman in my backseat. Seeing her wince from my touch had dumped a metaphorical bucket of cold water on my emotional state.

  The person that I had imagined would finally find me up here in Alaska was a scary, Seal Team Six dude with a cleft chin, bulging pecs, and a buzz cut. It definitely wouldn’t have been this young redhead with full lips, pink cheeks, adorable freckles, and hypnotic emerald eyes.

  And now she was afraid of me. We spent the remainder of the drive to my cabin in uneasy silence. The only noise was Harley’s breathy, slobbery panting, which usually comforted me, but probably spooked Jenna. Little did she know that Harley was the biggest baby in the world. She only looked like a wolf;
she was basically an overgrown Chihuahua.

  I had a hundred questions for her, but I only let myself ask one as my cabin came into view through the swirling whiteout.

  “How did you find me?” I finally blurted, breaking the thick, awkward silence as I slowly eased up the drive and prepared to park in my little garage. Before pulling in, I turned around to find Jenna wrapped in the thermal blanket, still sipping my coffee, and watching me with obvious suspicion.

  “It definitely wasn’t easy,” she said haltingly, “if it makes you feel better. You remember Skylark, right?”

  I nodded nervously. I remembered them all too well.

  “Well they thought you were in Nepal. More specifically, they thought you’d died in a fire at an Ashram in Nepal.”

  I blinked. That made no sense whatsoever. On a number of levels, not the least of which was that I’d never been to Nepal in my life.

  “What’s an Ashram?” I asked suspiciously, and for the first time, Jenna giggled. Now she was laughing at me? She’d been terrified a moment ago. I couldn’t figure her out at all. I scowled.

  “It’s a spiritual retreat. You know, like for Hinduism? Or yoga?” She said this like it was—or ought to be— obvious.

  “I’m a Catholic. And I definitely don’t do yoga at spiritual retreats in Nepal. I don’t do yoga, period,” I replied snidely. I guess I was a hermit by definition, but I was not that kind of hermit. I was more of a Byronic brooding hermit, not a new age, crystal healing, and tofu hermit. I still had my pride, after all.

  Jenna actually rolled her eyes at me. She was feisty when she wasn’t scared or freezing. It felt weirdly good to have a real conversation with someone who could respond in English, even if the subject matter was less than comfortable. Harley and I had our share of casual conversations, but they were notoriously one sided.

  “Well anyway, that’s where they said you were,” Jenna said. “There was this whole mess between Skylark and your grandfather’s lawyers about how to get in touch with you. I was supposed to fly to Kathmandu two days ago, but then I canceled the trip when I started doing my own research and realized they were totally wrong.”

  Her expression was a mixture of pride and triumph. I was less enthused. Her victory might mean my death.

  “You found me? Personally? By yourself?” I was shocked and somewhat impressed, but my words came out as much more incredulous and rude than I intended. It didn’t go over well. My social skills were not what they once were.

  “Yep,” she replied tartly, more of her personality slipping through her fear to show that didn’t appreciate my tone, “I did. It wasn’t even that hard. Your IP address and old login credentials were rejected by a Durant Industries secure server a month ago. All I had to do was call the carrier and find your location. You registered it under a fake name, but I figured it was still a better use of my time to come here rather than Nepal.”

  Clever. Jenna must be a very thorough and detail-oriented person to have located that information, or have even thought to look for it after so long. But it wasn’t impossible. The real reason Jenna had found me was because I’d gotten sloppy and let myself be found. I figured people had forgotten about me by now. That login attempt had been fueled by whisky and boredom. I should have known better.

  How Skylark fit into any of this was a mystery. I doubted that Jenna was meant to actually find me, since there was no reason to think I’d ever been in Nepal. Maybe the Nepal thing was a red herring—meant to convince her, and everyone else, that I was dead. I wished it had worked.

  “Who knows you’re here right now?” I asked Jenna, wondering if she was actually a vanguard of a more forceful invasion of my solitude. The second the question was out of my mouth I felt guilty for it because Jenna’s eyes had gone fearful again. I really needed to stop being creepy. I might as well heave asked how long it would be before the police came looking for her.

  “I’m not a threat to you,” I repeated in frustration, “I won’t hurt you, I swear. I just want to know if there are more people coming. I didn’t move out here and cut off contact with the entire world because I enjoy impromptu houseguests.”

  She blushed.

  “I’m sorry you had to save me. I’m grateful for your help. Nobody knows where I am,” she admitted after a moment, “everyone thinks I went to Nepal.”

  For just a second, I thought about what would have happened if I hadn’t run into Jenna an hour ago. My secret location would have died with her. It would have been more convenient, but when I looked in her face, I also knew with absolute certainty that it would be an unthinkable loss. I was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Jenna was only a pawn in this game. Just like me.

  “You don’t need to worry about your privacy,” Jenna added with a shrug, “I had to sign a bunch of non-disclosure paperwork. I’m not ever supposed to tell anyone where you are.”

  “Why?” None of this made any sense whatsoever.

  “Skylark told me to? I don’t know really. They just told me to find you,” she replied, again using a tone that suggested I should know her answer already. “I was told that you didn’t want to be found and that I should respect your privacy as much as possible.”

  I shrugged, and we lapsed into confused silence. I had no idea whatsoever about why Skylark would feel the need to help me maintain my privacy. The more I thought about it, the more plausible some sort of compromise between my father and Sklylark seemed probable. He would have had to figure something out with them.

  When I left five years ago, there had been approximately zero planning on my part. My father, however, had now had five years to figure things out with Skylark and prepare for grandfather’s inevitable passing. Still, logic required me to acknowledge that this entire situation with Jenna was dangerous. I just didn’t understand how or why things had been arranged like this yet.

  “Is this your house?” Jenna asked doubtfully, pointing out the windshield of the truck. Harley whined as if offended and Jenna dropped her arm immediately. In reality, I think Harley was just surprised at Jenna’s sudden movement.

  I followed Jenna’s skeptical gaze to my house. It wasn’t that bad.

  “That’s it,” I replied with an encouraging smile, “home sweet home.”

  5

  Jenna

  The Durant patriarch, Alexander Durant, immigrated to the United States during the middle of the last century, and within a generation had built one of the most powerful and wealthy dynasties in the history of our nation by founding and running the world’s largest chemical conglomerate. At least, that’s what the Wikipedia page had said about the family when I Googled them before my job interview two years ago. The important thing about this story was that they were very rich. So, when I saw the nasty little shack that Nicholas was living in, I was surprised—and not in a good way.

  In fairness, it was probably more rightfully described as a cabin and not a shack. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be structurally sound and in relatively good repair. When I got inside, I saw that the entire dwelling was composed of only three rooms: a bedroom, a bathroom, and a small living area with a kitchen. I was at least encouraged to see that it was warm and rustic rather than scary. I’ll hand it to Nicholas on one thing: the space was clean. I’d never been in a clean bachelor pad before.

  “It’s very cozy,” I said, smiling tentatively.

  Nicholas smirked back at me.

  “You don’t have to pretend to like it,” he said good naturedly, “here, sit.” He gestured to the worn couch next to the little pellet stove in the corner, “You really do need to stay warm.”

  I obediently sat down on the couch and was promptly covered with a fuzzy electric blanket by Nicholas. He draped it over me and stepped back immediately, clearly still trying not to frighten me. For my part, I couldn’t complain: it felt so, so good to be finally and properly warm. I managed not to make a little inappropriate, satisfied moan, but only just. My body felt like it was melting with pleasure.

&
nbsp; In the quiet little cabin in the woods, while the snow fell outside, in the middle of freaking Alaska, I watched Nicholas Durant putter around his sparse kitchen. Harley followed affectionately at his heels, never going more than a few steps from him like a massive, shaggy shadow. The three of us were going to spend the night together in about four hundred square feet. This was not at all how I expected this day to go.

  “I got your luggage out of your trunk when you were hypothermic,” Nicholas said absently to me as he made another pot of coffee, “I’ll go get it in a second for you. Do you want some cream or sugar? I only have the shelf-stable kind since milk doesn’t keep out here.”

  He was definitely trying to put me at ease. He needn’t have bothered. I was feeling about a thousand times better under the electric blanket already.

  “Oh,” I replied, “no thanks on the cream. Yes, to the sugar. Do you think my car is ok? Or at least ok enough to get me back to town?”

  His expression was extremely skeptical.

  “I’m not sure,” he answered carefully, “if the storm is over tomorrow morning we’ll go look. The moose did a number on it. We might be able to get it running once the weather is better.”

  I’d barely even thought about the storm since getting out of it. I’d lived around snow my entire life. Although I’d lived for snow days like any kid, I’d become indifferent to it as I grew into adulthood in New Jersey. Now it was just a seasonal annoyance to me in Pennsylvania. After tonight’s experience, however, I hated it. Snow was pure, concentrated evil falling from the sky. The next opportunity I got, I was moving to the equator.

  “How long do the snowstorms usually last here?” I asked, looking out the dark window to see nothing but snow, “I need to get home, and I know you probably want me gone as fast as possible.”