by Hunt, James
Mark nodded, his body shaking as he kept Holly’s face buried against the front of his jacket. “So where do we go?” Their words were snatched quickly by the wind and muffled to obscurity.
Rodney gestured to the northeast, up a steep incline. “We’ll follow the rocky terrain! A cave is our best bet!”
Mark shook his head. “I don’t think I can make it that far!” He lifted Holly. “Not with her!”
“We have to try! C’mon!”
Rodney placed one sturdy foot on rock beneath the snow and pushed himself up, offering a hand to Mark, who took it to steady himself. It was painstakingly slow, but they pressed on.
Halfway up, Rodney turned to see if the hospital was still visible, but he couldn’t even see the trees ten feet from his position. He patted Mark on the back as he climbed. “We’re almost there!”
They spotted a cave between two big boulders, and Rodney steered Mark inside. Rodney produced a small hand-cranked light from the inside of his jacket and peered inside. It was deep. Deep enough to protect them from the storm. He motioned for Mark to come up. “C’mon!”
The three of them entered the cave, Rodney’s light leading the way, and he checked the back for animals, following it as far as he could before the space grew too small. It was clear. He traveled back to Mark, who sat and leaned up against the wall.
“How are you doing?” Rodney knelt by him and took stock of what limited supplies remained on his person, but his fingers had frozen stiff, and it took nearly a minute of focus and practice to form a fist.
A few tools, a lighter, iodine tablets, a miniature first aid kit with bandages, needle, and string. A few small packs of dried fruits and nuts, along with some jerky. But no water. And no wood. Rodney, shivering himself, looked at Mark, who couldn’t stop shaking either, rocking Holly in his arms. “We need a fire, or we won’t last the storm.”
He stood, hunched over because of the short ceiling, and Mark grabbed him before he was gone. “You’ll freeze out there.”
“I’ll be back before that happens.”
“What if one of those people finds you?”
It was a tone that Rodney hadn’t heard in a long time. The concern, the fear, the touch of anger. It was the voice of a father.
“I’ll be fine,” Rodney said, having to peel Mark’s hand off him. “Just try and keep her warm.”
The wind and cold stopped him dead in his tracks the moment he left the protection of the cave. His body and even his mind screamed for him to go back inside. But he knew that if he didn’t find wood, then all three of them wouldn’t last the night.
Frozen stiff by the time he reached the bottom, Rodney found the nearest tree and reached up for the closest dead branches that he could feel. He tugged gently, seeing which would give way, and after three tries, one snapped off with ease. He made sure to keep his back toward the cliff, knowing how easy it would be to get lost in the sea of white.
Rodney bundled the sticks he found and then turned, the steep incline of rocks nowhere to be seen. He stumbled forward, hoping it was just the lack of visibility, but still there was nothing. His heart rate quickened, and his breathing grew so labored that he gasped for breath.
He pushed forward, holding on to the sticks that he’d gathered, looking for the rocks that led up to the cavern in a world that was nothing but a white backdrop. “Mark!” He felt the scream’s vibrations along his throat, but he could barely hear himself above the whine of the wind.
But despite the fear, despite the confusion, Rodney stayed true to the path, and he exhaled relief when he saw the familiar cropping of the rock formation above. He was careful with this footing on his ascent, balancing the wood and himself so he wouldn’t fall. If he fell here, he wouldn’t get back up.
Rodney dropped the sticks into the cave and shook off the snow. He found Mark and Holly in the same positions as when he left, and he started knocking the snow from the wood before it melted and wet the sticks.
He was forced to throw out a few that were too damp from the snow, but he had a decent pile ready, and enough to keep it burning, hopefully, through the night. He gripped the lighter and reached for one of the little strips of paper that he stored with it to act as tinder and set it ablaze.
Both Mark and Rodney stared at the flame as if it were a godsend. With shaking hands and holding his breath, Rodney brought the strip to the shavings. Smoke filtered up, and he carefully lifted the burning pile toward the larger branches. He continued to feed it shavings until flames flickered, and once the other sticks burned, the tension in his body relaxed.
“God, I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see fire,” Mark said, keeping Holly in his arms as she shivered. He stared at her. “We don’t have the medicine.”
“I know.” Rodney stared into the flames and then looked toward the front of the cave and the blizzard outside. “We can’t chance going back now.” He turned to Mark. “Maybe in the morning.”
“Yeah.” But Mark looked at Holly. “Morning.”
Both men understood what the night would tell them. Every howl of wind and flurry of snow that gusted into the cave’s entrance reminded them of it. Morning would reveal them alive or dead.
But even if they survived until the morning, the likelihood of finding the cabin was limited. The roads would be snowed over and so deep that the cars would be buried, so long as the weatherman who’d predicted the storm was accurate.
The fire flickered, and Rodney and Mark inched closer to the flames.
“I’ll take the first watch,” Rodney said. “I’ll wake you up in a few hours.”
“Yeah,” Mark said. “Rest would be good.”
But despite their rotation, neither men would get any rest. They just took turns staring at the fire and into the storm, making sure that Holly was still breathing all right. After all of Rodney’s preparation and all of his planning, it felt as if everything had come down to this one night.
Survive, Rodney thought. Just survive.
14
A blanket of fresh white snow covered the northernmost portion of New York State. The blizzard that blew through the day before and bellowed well into the next morning had finally passed. And aside from the ten feet of snow it dropped, nearly swallowing the cabin whole, it also brought the clearest blue skies that Kate had ever seen.
She planted the shovel firmly in the snow and wiped the sweat from her brow, glancing at the path she’d had to dig from the front porch. A narrow gulley was etched deep into the snow that sloped downward toward the door.
It had taken nearly an hour to get through all of it, but she was glad to have the activity. In the brief twenty-four hours that she’d been inside that cabin, she had already gone stir crazy.
Kate glanced at the horizon and the landscape, which looked just as pristine as the sky above. She bit her lip anxiously, hoping that at any moment she’d see Mark and Holly coming up over the snow. She lingered out there, feeling the burn of the sun despite the cold, watching and waiting.
“Mom?”
Kate turned back to the cabin and immediately descended the freshly shoveled snow path. Luke had awoken during the storm. He wasn’t very coherent, but he was hungry, which she took as a good sign. Then he’d passed out again and slept, until now.
Luke lay on the couch, his head propped up on pillows, looking at her with a sleepy, pain-riddled stare. Kate knelt by his side, smiling, and removed the glove from her hand to touch his face. “Hey, how are you feeling?”
“Water?” Luke asked, pinching his eyebrows together, his voice scratchy and dry.
Kate reached for one of the half-drunk bottles on the floor and started to tip the bottle toward his mouth before he stopped her.
“No,” Luke said. “I need to try.” He shakily held the bottle, his grip barely strong enough to squeeze the plastic, but he drank it by himself. “Thanks.”
Kate touched his forehead. He was sweating quite a bit, though she wasn’t sure if it was because of the fire and bl
ankets or something else. She reached for some of the wool quilts. “We’ll take a few of these off, see if it helps cool you off.” She made a mental note to check his bandage and clean it again now that he was awake.
Luke jolted upright quickly, his eyes frantic and wide. “Claire.” He winced when he tried to turn, and the pain and fatigue dragged him back down. “Mom, where is she?”
For a second, Kate forgot that name. It had taken a backseat to the events since leaving the college. In all the time she had by herself, she hadn’t spent a single second of it thinking of what to tell him, or how to tell him, what happened.
“Mom?” Luke’s expression showed that he was on the verge of tears.
“She didn’t come with us,” Kate answered. “After you were shot, she helped me carry you to the plane, and there wasn’t enough room for both of you.” Kate tried to smile, but it felt false on her face. “She stayed behind to save you.”
“What?” Luke’s lip quivered. “You left her?” He shied away from her.
Kate reached for her hand, but he knocked it away. “The people who shot you were chasing us. We didn’t have time to think it through. It was the best decision. She helped lead them away from you.”
“How do you know that?” The words pricked like poisoned darts.
“There wasn’t another choice—”
“There’s always another choice!” Luke roared, his pallid cheeks flushing color. But the outburst sapped what little strength he had, and he collapsed back onto his pillow.
“Luke—” Kate buttoned her lips, unable to tell him the truth, because it would hurt him worse to know that Claire had discarded him the moment her own life was in danger. But in her lie, Kate could ease the burden of heartbreak.
Kate walked to one of the bedrooms, the mattress still covered in plastic. It crinkled as she collapsed onto it, curling up with the pillow, which was devoid of any cover. And so, even with her son awake, she was still alone.
She had to fight the repeated urges to march out there and tell him the truth, but she won out each time, knowing that he was hurting but that pain would heal. It would leave a scar, but it would heal, and life would go on.
But the more she thought about it, the less she believed that statement was true. Life hadn’t gone on. It had stopped. The terrorists and their EMP had made sure of that. She balled her hands into fists and grimaced, feeling the hot tears roll down her cheeks.
What had they done it for? Some selfish idealism? Some sacrifice for their God so they’d get their virgins in heaven? Millions were suffering. Maybe even millions had died. Families had been torn apart, and Kate Hillman was one of the casualties.
Hadn’t she been through enough? Hadn’t she already paid for whatever sins she committed? The recklessness of her youth and the danger it had put her son in had haunted her for years. But now it had come full circle.
The tears eventually gave way to fatigue, and Kate’s eyes fluttered closed. She drifted in that suspended animation between full sleep and being awake, but when she heard the voice, it was hard for her to determine if it was real.
Was it from a dream? Or could it be—
“Kate?”
She snapped her head up off the pillow, her mind foggy and her body heavy from the dazing nap. She wiggled herself off the mattress, the plastic crinkling madly from her wild, uncoordinated movements.
“Kate!”
The voice was closer now. It was heavy and out of breath, and Kate’s knees buckled when her feet hit the floorboards. She sprinted from the bedroom, through the kitchen, and past Luke, who had propped his head up and tried looking out the door.
The snow brightened and whitewashed the landscape as Kate slipped up the slope she’d carved out earlier. She clawed with her hands, hunched over, and squinted as she broke the surface. “Mark!” Kate spun around, looking for him, but saw only the snow and the mountains. “Mark!”
“Oh my god, Kate!”
Kate spun around, following the voice. And when her head finally stopped spinning, she saw Mark and Rodney, pulling a sled behind them. Kate sprinted toward them, and Mark untied the cord around his belt, dropping it hastily into the snow.
They collided with a muffled smack due to their bulky coats and squeezed each other hungrily. Kate shut her eyes, clawing at his back as Mark lifted her up. “Thank God. Oh, thank God.” She kissed his cheek, his cold skin stinging her lips. “Holly?”
“She got worse, but she’s okay.” He turned back to Rodney, who was still pulling the sled with their daughter. “That’s what took us so long.”
But as the sight of Rodney alone with her daughter started to sink in, Kate frowned, shaking her head. “Where are Glen and Laura?”
Mark lowered his head. “They didn’t make it.”
Kate pressed her hands to the sides of her head, taking a step back. “Christ.”
But Mark reached for her and pulled her close, looking toward the house. “Is Luke inside?”
“He is, but...” Kate answered, reaching up to his face. “He needs a doctor.”
It took a few minutes for each of them to get caught up, but on the way back to the cabin, and even when they were inside, Kate didn’t leave Holly’s side. Their daughter was still unconscious, and though Luke was still upset, he was glad to see Mark, and vice versa.
Aside from a quick hello, Rodney had said nothing upon his arrival. His silence wasn’t noticeable at first, not when Kate was so consumed with her family, but once they were caught up, Kate knew something was wrong.
“Rodney?” Kate asked, slowly approaching him from behind as he stood at the living room window, which was caked with snow.
“We’ll need to clear as much of the powder away from the front of the house as possible,” Rodney answered, keeping his face toward the window. “It’ll be a while before it melts, but I want to make sure we have at least two exits open in case we need to leave quickly.”
“Rodney, are you all right?” Kate sidled up next to him, and he turned his face away, swiping at his eyes.
“Fine.” Rodney cleared his throat, and then, after another pause, he finally turned to face Kate, the remnants of his tears almost invisible. “We’ll take stock of our provisions, and then tomorrow, I’ll go and see if we can find some materials back at the hospital to get the bullet out of Luke’s shoulder. I have some medical books here on operating, and I might be able—”
Kate touched his shoulder, and Rodney seized up. “What happened at the hospital wasn’t your fault. You did what you could.”
“We should have left sooner. If I had just—”
“You did exactly what you should have done.” Kate stepped closer, and the stoic façade that was Rodney’s expression cracked as he twisted the corner of his mouth. “Take it from someone whose job it was to be prepared for every outcome when they were a pilot. There wasn’t any way of knowing that those people would show up. And if you didn’t go there and you didn’t wait for the medicine to work on Holly, then my daughter would be dead.” She hugged him, and his arms hung limp at his sides. “You saved people. Even when you didn’t have to. Laura knew that. Glen knew that. And they wouldn’t blame you, either.”
Rodney sniffled and whimpered at the sound of their names and then slowly lifted his arms and wrapped them around Kate, squeezing tightly. When he pulled away, he exhaled a shaky breath and then wiped his eyes. “We do need to get ready. Set up the rooms, check the provisions.”
“I’ve gone through the closets already,” Kate said. “Everything looks fully stocked.”
“We still need to check the caches,” Rodney said.
“What?” Kate asked.
“Around the cabin,” Rodney answered. “I’ve got supplies buried all around the property. And we need to get our water system set up. C’mon, I’ll show you where the lake is.”
Kate followed Rodney to a bedroom, but Mark stopped her just before she entered.
“Hey, I need to talk to you.” Mark eyed Rodney. “It’ll j
ust be a minute.” Mark led them to another room, the same one where Kate had been sleeping. He took her hand as they sat on the plastic mattress covering, staring at her knees. “There’s something I need to tell you. Something that I’m still not sure I really saw.”
Kate frowned. “What?” Mark’s apprehension was making her nervous. Out of the two of them in their relationship, he was the one who was always forthright, the one willing to talk about anything. Seeing him with a tight lip wasn’t a common occurrence.
“It was at the hospital, right before we left, right before Rodney killed—”
“What?” Kate gasped but kept her volume low. “Rodney killed somebody?”
Mark shook his head. “It’s not what you think. It was after they’d killed Glen and Laura. And if he hadn’t, then Holly and I would be dead.”
“Christ, you didn’t tell me that,” Kate said, reclaiming her hands and twisting her fingers nervously.
“I didn’t want to bring it up in front of Rodney, but listen.” Mark inched closer. “The people who attacked the hospital, they weren’t terrorists. I think they were inmates.”
Color drained from Kate’s face, and she thought of the pair of men that she’d seen on the road. Could it have been the same people?
“When we were making a run for it, I saw someone chasing us,” Mark said, and he looked away, almost as if he was trying to convince himself that the memory wasn’t true. “I only got a glimpse of him. And I wasn’t completely sure until I heard the others say a name.”
Kate stood, walking like a ghost to the wall in the room. Her mind was back on the highway, ducked behind those trees in the snow. She spoke his name before Mark had a chance. “Dennis.”
It was quiet for a long time, and then Mark finally stood and walked to Kate, gently gripping her elbows.
Kate maintained a stoic expression; only the tears streaming down her face gave away the truth of her fear. She told Mark what she’d seen on the road, what happened with the inmates who chased her into the woods. She had tossed it aside as a trick of her mind, or that there were millions of others with the same name. But it was real.
