by Ellie Cypher
“Grab an orb or two from the sled, will ya,” I asked Cody, pretty sure my nose were as blue as my fingers. And my stomach as empty as the Flats.
Cody pulled us both out a black orb.
“Near empty,” I noted.
“Mine too,” Cody said.
I rolled the orb in my palm. It were too light to last much longer. But it was warm enough. I breathed deep as the buzz of feeling crawled cross my skin.
Sighing, I pushed open the tent with my shoulder and ducked inside. Cold breeze at my back told me Cody were right behind.
I spun slow, sitting down on top of a pile of furs and put the orb between my knees. My lap grew… lukewarm. Time, I think, for a little something more than dried caribou meat for dinner. From my kit bag, I took out two of the hide-wrapped bags.
“Cody, would you quit fussing and just sit down already. You are worse than Bren.” I winced a little at my words.
“Right. Sorry.” Cody stopped fretting and took up an awkward half-sitting position. Real delicate like, but without complaint, he rubbed at the blue tips of his fingers.
Grunting I tossed him my orb. He caught it without fumbling and gave me a grateful smile.
Undoing the ties on the dwindling rations, I frowned. The hunting weren’t good up here. Most anything either too big or too small to be worth the effort. It weren’t like I could just dive down and eat what the whales and seals were eating. But maybe I’d be able to find something, maybe find part of a bear’s discarded kill. Cause even at this rate we’d make it there, but it were the getting back that were gonna be the issue. And then we’d have three mouths.… I rubbed my hands together.
I suppose we could chance across a winter hare tucked up in its den, but this far north it weren’t likely. And counting on chance usually meant the only thing you’d be soon counting were your last breaths.
“Jorie, I was wondering… well, you know. You’ve never really said. I mean—what I mean is…” Cody paused.
“Hmm?” I weren’t payin him much mind, but Cody swallowed hard. No caribou left. I counted the dried strips of fish.
“Well, about your sister.”
My attention snapped up quick. “What about her?”
“Well, you’ve never really talked about her and about what happened to you both the night she was taken. I know it can be hard… and I was simply wondering if you needed to, you know. I mean, if you needed someone to talk to about it, I’m here,” he finished lamely.
“Why would you think I needed to talk about it? Cause I don’t.” My entire body gone stiff. “Bad things happen to good people all the time.”
Shifting a little where he sat, Cody stared down at his hands. His lashes batting softly in the low light. “It’s only that I can hear you at night.” A tick began at the corner of his right eye. “I hear you crying in your sleep. And it’s not—not something to be ashamed of—I did it too for a long time. After—after my parents died.” His voice cracked.
“I just wanted to let you know that you aren’t alone. That I know what it is—to lose everything. See your world ripped away from you in a heartbeat.” He raised his eyes to mine. “I know what it is to stay up late at night wondering what you could have done differently, only to wake up to a world you don’t want or know. To have it all come crashing down around you. I want you to know that I’ll do everything I can to help.”
The silence stretched. And stretched. Numbness, sallow and familiar, bubbled up inside me.
“I’m sorry if I said the wrong—”
I bit back the sudden hot flash of salt running down my throat. This weren’t Cody’s fault. It were mine. And noble as he were trying to be, I didn’t think that were the conversation I needed to be having right now.
“You ain’t got nothing to apologize for,” I said quiet. “Not to me, any road.”
Cody flushed, running a hand through his hair, causing it to fall across his eyes. He brushed it aside. My heart ached in a way I ain’t felt before. But I couldn’t let it. I had to stay hard, not let the what-if failure overwhelm me. For Bren.
“Sorry ain’t gonna bring my sister back. Or your uncle.”
“I know. I just wanted to say I’m here. If you needed me.” He finished high and awkward.
“Cody Colburn, I don’t know much, but I know we can’t any of us change the what-ifs. But we can stay alive. Right now I’m hungry, so you just quit thinking about that and get to helping me with dinner.”
Cody gave me a real wide grin.
“And quit smiling. It’s distracting.”
Cody’s smile only got bigger. Dipping my head to hide the rising heat in my cheeks—I handed Cody a long strip of white sinew and fat. Little bits of black dotted the old meat. A side effect of the curing process. It weren’t nothing to worry about, but it did look downright awful. Not that it tasted any better.
He held the food out in front of him, looking it up and down. “Not that I am complaining, Jorie, but what precisely was this?”
“Haddock.”
“Not to doubt you, but this does look… rather unappetizing.” Cody tried and failed to flick off one of the black spots.
“As is your personality, so we’re both making sacrifices in this tent. You’ll take what I give you and hush your mouth about it.” There were no heat in my words, and he beamed.
Frowning at this sudden familiarity, I pulled out two small steel mugs, one slightly bigger than the other, and shoved them in the space between us.
Careful, I untied the white bag I had taken from under my pallet back home, and taking a handful of snow out of my pocket, I plopped it down into the larger of the two mugs. I stuffed the smoked fish down into the smaller one. Three cubes of salted fat followed. From the white pouch I took a pinch of the quicklime. Too much was as likely to burn a hole in the metal as warm what were in it.
The reaction were as immediate as it were intense. Steam rose and the scent of melting fat and fish meat filled the tent. My stomach growled. It smelled near miraculous. I stirred the contents of the cup, reaching out and plopping a strip of meat on top of the mix to soften in the steam. When the food were done heated, I looked up. Cody were right there, his fingers dancing in his furs. His lips pressed tight against the same pit of hunger that were nestled snug in my gut.
“Here.” I passed him the cup. He took it, expression right ravenous. “Just don’t eat it. Yet.”
“Uh, okay.” His mouth forming a perfect little O as he curled his fingers around the warm metal cup, his eyes soft. Amazing how it were the smallest things that mattered. Warmth. Water. Food. You only realized their comfort when they was gone. What made you feel human.
I unstoppered the half-dying black orb and with care poured the boiling quicklime water into it. The low hiss of mixing chemicals filled the tent. The hint of yellow-smelling sulfur from the orbs filtered about.
I got up and collected a few cupfuls of snow. It melted fast. I poured the excess, cup by cup, into our flasks. We would need it later.
“Right, hand it back. Please,” I teased, sitting down and reaching out my fingers toward him. Wiggling ’em, worms on a line.
Cody passed the cup back to me. I mixed the two equal portions into both. Cody stretched out and took his share. Making the soup were a little bit of a luxury. But between the low rations of the last days and the failure of today, I reckoned we needed it. A whole day. Just gone. Like it didn’t matter.
The hot liquid slipped in and slid down my throat, warming me to my toes. I let out a little moan as the soft warmth of the soup bubbled in my gut. Across the tent from me, Cody’s cheeks turned a summer-rose red.
“Jorie, what do you think about if we—” Cody began. My heart gave a sharp tug in my throat, but I were saved from hearing what he were about to say as a deafening bellow rocked the canvas of the tent around us. We both froze.
The cry were followed right quick by sharp, short snorts. Rusty breaths and heavy, crunching footfalls. The promise of a quick death at the mercy o
f hungry jaws. I listened stiff, neck twisted.
Across from me, Cody bare breathed. The only motion were the rapid beat of his heart pulsing in the crook of his neck. A pace near to match mine.
Then from one beat to the next everything turned impossible slow. One moment I were eyeing Cody, wondering if we were about to be eaten by a snow bear or worse, and the next—the whole world broke loose.
CHAPTER 17 Breathing Like Dying
The world turned to chaos. The dogs barking, going wild. Snarling.
Gasping, I rolled to my side. Pressure twisted at my legs. I kicked out, scrambling to sit, my heart beating fast, breaths burning in my chest. But it were only the tent, the thick canvas snaked like seaweed about my limbs. I slid free along the ice. The scene that greeted me were madness.
A milk-white musk ox swayed his massive head, heavy half curls of steam pouring from his flaring nostrils, curling around eyes black as pitch. Fen, her coat covered in snow and blood, had her jaws sunk deep into a foreleg. Boz and Addy were circling wide around the dueling pair, teeth snapping fierce.
Fen darted in and out, weaving between the beast’s massive legs. Biting, tearing.
The other dogs were caught, straining desperate against their harnesses. Feet whipping the earth, heat and snow erupting into the space around them. At my side, Cody too scrambled to his feet, the soles of his shoes slipping in the slush that was our belongings, furs and kit scattered everywhere in the snow.
“Cody, the team!” I screamed it, only certain it came out when Cody stumbled toward the dogs. My gun. I needed my gun.
Trouble being, I couldn’t find it. Anywhere.
More snarls ripped the air as Cody freed the team. But it were too late. Fen weren’t fast enough. With one wide thrust of his head, a wicked yellow horn caught her along her side. So hooked, the ox tossed a snarling Fen clear up and over his back. Slashes of gleaming copper red filled the air, cascading down on the beast. Behind it, Fen landed rough, a limp pile in the snow.
I started toward her, but the musk ox were now between us. He turned his massive head to me, eyes fixed upon mine. Red discolored the whites of his eyes. The animal must be crazed. With a roar the ox reared skyward. Shards of ice scattering from his coat. Front legs clawed at the air. He roared again and again. I clasped my hands over my ears.
With a violence the ox landed, dangerous shaking the ice underneath him, his stare locked on me. The beast took a step. Then Boz and Addy and all the rest were there. Pulling. Biting. Saving.
Cody staggered to my side, near falling over, rubbing wicked at his eyes.
“What is wrong with you—” I clipped my words short. His eyes burned with red. The skin swelling, blistering. Something had got in them. Something like—my gut sank—sulfur from broken orbs.
I reached down and with a bare hand grabbed a handful of snow. Quickly I scrubbed it into his eyes. Handful after handful. Until my fingers dripped with melting snow. Cody hissed, but finally the redness began to fade. Relief passed over his face. His eyes were far from clear. But they were better.
I cupped his face in my hands, turning it back and forth. “Can you see me?”
“Yes.” Cody swallowed the word, but at least he could see. I helped him to his feet. He rested some of his weight on me.
“You okay?” I asked, setting him to standing on his own. Handing another fistful of snow over.
“I think so,” Cody said. The swelling near to already gone. That were one thing down.
The dogs and the unnaturally snow-white ox were a tangle of limbs and teeth I couldn’t right tell apart. Or tell who were winning. But Fen mercifully had managed to pull herself sitting, and at her side Boz stood teeth bared, tail lashing, while the pack kept harrying the attacker. Good dog, Boz. Fen had Boz. I needed my gun.
I darted over to the remains of what were once our tent, skidding to my knees and tossing through the ruin of our possessions. Come on, come on. I pulled torn and useless furs, empty and ripped bags, clumps of snow, and—and nothing.
“Where the stars is it?”
“Jorie—I think we should move. Like now.” Cody’s voice was close, and it held more than a note of concern. “It’s getting closer.”
“Not yet, we need—this.” I grasped the cold metal of the barrel. I raised the gun and aimed… only nothing happened. Not a thing. “Stars below!” I fumbled frantically at the bolt, but between my shaking and the frozen metal, it weren’t gonna move. Not one inch. The bolt was jammed.
“Jorie!” Cody jerked on my shoulder. I brushed him off and hit the butt of the gun on the ice. Something inside gave an odd metallic clunk.
“No, please no.” Still focused on the gun, my body was jerked backward to the right. Cody’s fingers slipped across my left arm as he were chucked back hard onto the ice and I were pulled free of his hands. I glanced up. Too late.
The musk ox had caught the corner of my coat with one massive blood-tipped horn, and in seconds I was airborne. The rip of splitting fabric filled my ears. The thick steam of animal breathing filled my eyes. My bones shook with the bellows erupting from the ox’s red throat. I looked down. Except for the beast and me, the entire world simply ceased to be. Muted out.
Below me was the back of the ox. Unmarred muscle covered his spine, thick bones braced with tendons, body rippling under his snow-white coat. The sway of his head, thrusting his huge body in arches and turns. Me dangling like ragweed from his horns. And buried deep against his neck, a twisted vine of black-tipped green barbs, like tiny inverted teeth, dug deep into the thick hide. Little specks of dried blood clinging to all the long white hairs. A collar. Only who in the world would want this beast for a pet? And if it were someone’s, did that mean…? But then my body was tearing weightless through the air. Untethered.
I hit hard. The icy ground hurt fierce as my body slammed into it, ribs and elbows landing first. The wind chucked itself painfully out of my chest, ripping away my screams. And then I weren’t alone. The ox were above me, eye to eye. A long drip of drool curled down through the space between us, salty and cold.
Blood welled up along his leg where the dogs had gotten teeth in, frozen slashes of red across his white coat, leaking heat.
Up this close, the smell of the wild were overwhelming strong. Reek stole what little air there were. I tried desperate to raise an arm, to block. But it fell by my side, useless, numb from cold and pain.
Lowering his face, the ox let out a rumble. I swear it sounded like laughter. Black eyes rolled back in their sockets as horns turned straight at my belly. Turned for a killing blow. The end. This were it. Cody were screaming. The dogs howling. But it didn’t mean much.
After everything, I failed her.
I’m sorry, Bren. I’m so so sorry.
I braced tight for the final, impaling shock.
CHAPTER 18 No Good Deed
But instead of the squelch of my guts spilling into the snow, it were a gunshot that roared out. Loud and true.
I opened my eyes. Tiny flakes of snow rained down onto my exposed face. Lingering green moss, dirt, and blood caked the ox’s fur. His heavy body looming above me. Suffocating warm.
Another shot rang out. The ox roared and staggered to his side. Snuffing hard. He began shaking his head, swaying violent like. Angry. And hurt.
Pressing their advantage, the dogs darted in. Between the ivory of dogs’ teeth and the gunshot to his side, he didn’t know which way to turn.
Addy snaked in, biting at the ox’s hamstring, fangs sinking into flesh, the crunch of teeth across bone. The ox thundered with rage, kicking out wildly, shaking his horns. Fighting even as he stumbled on the injured limb. Staggering, the beast pawed at his face, forcing me to roll or be trampled.
A gunshot tore through the freezing air. I looked up. Red poured down the ox’s side, fresh drops scattering into the snow. A crimson bloom on the ice.
Gritting my teeth against the spreading pain in my side, I drug myself to my knees and stared. Ox were stumbling a
way, three of the dogs worrying his every limping step. And there were Cody. My useless, untrained Southerner. Only here weren’t useless no more. Head high, he stood tall. Right and strong, legs wide, my gun pressed to his shoulder.
The beast’s snow-white form disappeared into the horizon. I near collapsed with relief. Cause if for nothing else, he had earned every piece of fat, drop of water, and useless hours of talk he had cost me.
I struggled over to the camp. Or what were left of it. Which weren’t much.
My ribs gave a mighty cry of protest. I sucked in a hard breath against the pain.
“Jorie, here! Are you alright?” Cody skidded to my side, tossing the rifle down into the snow. I shivered. He offered his arm, placing his own furs over me. His eyes looked clear, his skin no worse than a bad sunburn.
“I don’t need… you’re hurt.” It weren’t a question. A slow pooling of deep red curled at his wrist. Another wound wept out from just under his torn shirt. Cody looked at his wrist and frowned, pressing his sleeve over it to stop the flow of blood.
“It’s nothing.”
“Don’t look like nothing.”
He winced. “Looks can be deceiving. I fell is all. Landed awkward when that ox tossed you.” He looked up at me, fear plain as day. “The real question is are you certain that you are alright? That was wild, Jorie,” he said holdin out his other hand. “I thought I had lost you.”
I gave him more of a grimace than the smile I tried for.
“That were some nice shooting, you know.” I owed him my life. Hurt as my head and ribs were, I would be fine. “Where in the world did you learn to fire a gun like that?”
Cody pressed his lips tight. “You are looking the colligate skeet shooting champion, three years running. Best shot in the University. My mother always said I needed a useful hobby. I suppose I just proved her right.” He paused, leaning over to pick up one of the bearskins and the gun from the snow.
I let out a rough laugh, the motion sendin pain across my cracked ribs. Done gasping, I rubbed at my side. “Well, Cody Colburn, you tell me if you have any other hidden talents. And next time promise to tell me before we near get killed by a rabid animal.”
