Alaska Wild

by Helena Newbury

  I pushed back from his chest and just stared at him. Three days? Three more days in the wilderness? I’d thought that this was it.

  “It won’t be how it was before,” he said. “We’ll have warm clothes. Food. Supplies. It’ll be an easy hike.”

  I gaped at him for another few seconds. But as I wrapped my head around the idea of more walking, I realized he was right. Just a few days ago, walking further than the nearest Starbucks would have seemed crazy. But now, after the plane crash and the cliffs and the river...just plain hiking, in proper clothes, didn’t sound so bad.

  And it would be with him. I pressed myself to him again. Three days of getting to know him better, sleeping under the stars with him...I could live with that.

  Then it hit me, a cold blow right to the chest. And then what?

  “Mason,” I asked, my voice tight. “What happens when we get to a town?”

  I was hoping I was wrong. But the way he went quiet told me I wasn’t.

  “They’ll have a radio,” he said. “You can call for help. The rescue services will pick you up within a few hours.”

  “And you?” I asked, my voice cracking.

  He said nothing.

  “No!”

  He shook his head. “Kate, I’m a fugitive. For all we know, they’ve already found the plane and realized they have two prisoners on the loose. They could have sent pictures of me and Weiss to every town. A cop could pull a gun on me as soon as I show up there.”

  “So you just come back here?” I asked hollowly. “That’s it? You just come back to your cabin and live as a—a—hermit? For how long, forever?”

  Those Alaskan-blue eyes stared back at me, freezing over with ice. “What choice do I have?”

  I grabbed his biceps and squeezed. “Come back with me! I’m FBI, I can bring you in, make sure you’re not hurt. I can fight to get your case reopened—”

  He was shaking his head.

  My eyes narrowed. “Mason, goddamnit, don’t give up on the system!”

  He fixed me with a look. “Gave up on it a long time ago.”

  I glared at him. Maybe it was stupid, but I was part of the system. It felt like he distrusted me.

  He sighed. Under the blanket, his hands dropped to my waist. He picked me up, then set me down again on his lap, straddling him. He spoke slowly and each word was like a warm bomb going off in my chest. “Kate,” he said, “You are the bravest, smartest woman I’ve ever met. If there was some way I could come back with you, I would.”

  My eyes were suddenly hot. “Your whole life is waiting for you,” I told him. “It’s just waiting for you to take it back. Surely that’s worth the risk.”

  “Not just a risk,” he said, his voice going hard. “Even if we got a retrial, I’d have to go to jail until then.”

  “A few months, maybe—”

  “I can’t take a day!” It was the first time he’d ever yelled. And it didn’t feel as if he was yelling at me: if anything, he sounded mad at himself. But with his size and power, it still made me flinch. And when he saw that, he cursed under his breath and pulled me close. “See?” he muttered. “I’m a mess.”

  I looked up into that gorgeous, brooding face. When he eventually met my eyes, I said, as gently as I could, “Whatever it is…”—I glanced towards the cabin, to the bed where he’d had the nightmare—“there are people who can help with that.”

  He looked at me, then cast his gaze around the landscape. “Not out here,” he said sourly.

  And that’s when I finally understood. Something had happened to him. Something that had stabbed right into the heart of him, through all his muscle and courage, and left something black and poisonous there. Something that left him in a cold sweat every night. Something that he had no choice but to live with because, immediately after it happened, he’d been court-martialled and then on the run.

  His words from the cliff face came back to me. I was MIA for a while.

  What the hell had happened to him?

  He caught my eye...and shook his head. There was a part of him I couldn’t know—maybe ever. Then his arms wrapped around my back and hauled me up his thighs and tight up against him. A hand on the back of my head tilted my head back and his lips came down on mine. This time, the kiss wasn’t about sex. It was deeper, slower. It said I need you. And I pressed myself against him and returned it, my fingers running through his hair, because I needed him, too. Somehow, despite starting out thousands of miles apart, we’d found exactly the person we each needed.

  And soon, we’d part again forever.

  He reluctantly broke the kiss. I bit my lip, my eyes dangerously hot. For a few seconds, we just stared at each other as we both fought to hold it together.

  Then he said gruffly, “I got something that’ll make you feel better.”

  I gave him a disbelieving look.

  “Seriously,” he said. “I got you all figured out. Stay there.”

  He went inside. I gazed at the landscape for another few minutes, trying to compose myself. Then came a smell I recognized.

  My head snapped around like it was on a spring. “Coffee?!” I scrambled to my feet and threw open the door. “You have coffee?”

  “One of the things I bring back from Koyuk,” he said. “Can only carry a couple of packs each trip so I have to make it last. Only let myself drink it on a Saturday. But I’ll make an exception for you.”

  I stared at the old-fashioned coffee pot in disbelief. I’d been dreaming about coffee. I hadn’t had any since Seattle. All the pleasure receptors in my brain lit up green as they anticipated the taste.

  I was still aching inside. My heart felt like a jagged crack was creeping across its surface and, when we reached the town and had to separate, I knew it was going to split wide open. But he was right: this did make me feel better. Both the coffee and the fact he was trying to make me happy.

  “Let it brew for another few minutes,” he told me, pushing me gently back outside. “Then we can drink it out here.” He looked up at the sky and shook his head. “We should stay here for today. Looks like there’s a storm blowing in. We don’t want to be out there when it hits.”

  He turned to go back inside, then froze. He was staring at a point far off in the distance.

  “What?” I asked. But he ignored me. He walked slowly to the edge of the porch, frowning at whatever it was he’d seen. Then he suddenly cursed and ran inside.

  “What is it?” I asked. But he was gone. I stared where he’d been looking. I couldn’t see-

  Wait. There. A dot, barely visible, and another two behind it. All three were moving in a slow, up-and-down pattern as they came towards us.

  Boone reappeared with an expensive-looking pair of binoculars. He stared at the dots, then passed the binoculars to me.

  It took me a second to pan around and find them. When I did, I drew in my breath.

  The dots were three 4x4s, bouncing up and down as they worked their way over the rough terrain. The binoculars brought them close enough that I could see Weiss and another man I didn’t recognize through the windshield of the lead one. Both had rifles cradled across their chests.

  I lowered the binoculars and looked up at Boone.

  “We have to go,” he said.

  35

  Boone

  I had a plan, of course. I’d had a plan for four years. I always knew the military might find me and that I’d have to run. I knew what to take. I knew where to go.

  Except in my plan, I’d never included a civilian. Especially one I was crazy about. I dressed for the outdoors every day but she was going to have to start from absolute scratch. And we’d need two of everything and...shit!

  I was panicking because, for the first time, I had someone else to worry about.

  I grabbed Kate and hauled her inside. “Get that blanket off!” I snapped. She shed it immediately. That left me looking at her naked body and, despite everything that was going on, I couldn’t help but stare, unable to drag my eyes away. I didn’t
regret what we’d done the night before. Not for an instant. Not even knowing that, when we reached a town, I’d have to say goodbye.

  If we live that long. And that thought got me moving again. “Get your underwear on,” I told her. As she pulled on her bra, I started throwing things to her: a warm base layer, then waterproof pants. A tight, insulating long-sleeved t-shirt and then one of my thick shirts.

  I looked at my spare pair of boots. There was no point even trying: my feet were twice the size of hers. “You’ll have to go with your shoes,” I told her. But she could at least wear some of my wool socks.

  I glanced up to toss her the socks...and froze again. She’d just pulled the black thermal base layer up her legs and, as I watched, she struggled into the matching top half. Fortunately, they were stretchy enough that they were fairly tight even on her small form. She looked like some movie super heroine, all clad in skintight black Lycra. Goddamn it, she makes even thermals look sexy.

  I threw her the socks and tore my eyes away. I kept a backpack packed for myself on a hook on the wall but I started packing one for her, throwing in an extra set of dry clothes, more socks and—just in case we got separated—a flint and steel for lighting fires. Hopefully, I’d get a chance to show her how to use it. I dug under the bed and pulled out a box, then started tossing plastic pouches into her pack.

  “What are those?” She’d pulled on the waterproof pants, now, and was turning up the cuffs to shorten them.

  “Military rations,” I said. “We’re not going to get a chance to hunt.” My mind was spinning. I knew I had my pack ready, but I was trying to remember everything I had in it so I could give her one.

  She started pulling on the shirt. “How long do you think we’ve got?”

  I glanced at the open door. “Depends how good their driving is. That’s tough terrain even if you know what you’re doing. They could get stuck. But….” I thought about the guy I’d seen driving, alongside Weiss. Big, with Slavic cheekbones and close-cropped hair. “I got a feeling they’ve got military guys helping them. They will know what they’re doing.” Flashlight! How could I not think of that! I grabbed my spare one, checked it worked and added it to her pack. Then I threw in a spare hunting knife. “What I don’t get is why they’re here. We’re no threat to them.”

  By now, Kate was sitting on the edge of the bed. She had the shirt buttoned and was stretching her shoes over the top of the thick wool socks. “I think I know,” she said, her voice grim.

  I stopped what I was doing and looked at her. She was staring intently at me.

  “We had it all wrong,” she said. “I couldn’t figure out why Weiss went to all that trouble, parachuting out of a plane. He had the marshals paid off...why not just escape in Nome? But now I get it. It’s not enough to get away. He stole billions. He’ll be hunted his whole life...unless no one knows he’s alive.”

  “They’ll find the plane eventually,” I said, frowning. “They’ll figure out he wasn’t on board.”

  “Right, unless, after they bailed out, they went to the plane and put someone else’s body on board. Maybe even three bodies: Weiss and the two marshals. If they burned the whole thing, there wouldn’t be much left to identify. No one’s going to ask too many questions: it’s the right number of bodies, they knew who was on board…they’re going to declare Weiss and the marshals dead and they walk away scot-free. That was Weiss's plan.”

  I caught up with her. “Except...when they went to the plane, they found out we survived. If we get to a town, we’ll tell people what really happened. We’ll blow the whole thing.” We stared at each other and I watched as Kate turned pale. She’d come to the same conclusion I had: Weiss needed both of us dead for his plan to work.

  I shook my head. “We’ve got to get out of here. Now.” I added a waterproof jacket to her pack and tossed it to her. Then I scrambled into my own clothes. I was still trying to figure out how the hell they’d found us. I knew I’d felt someone watching us...but why hadn’t I seen anyone?

  Kate met me by the door. By now, the 4x4s were close enough that I could see the figures inside without binoculars. We had minutes before they were on us. I looked frantically around the cabin, trying to figure out if there was anything I’d forgotten. I wished I had more time. Our whole situation had changed in a heartbeat. When I’d reached the cabin, I’d thought we were safe but this was going to be way more dangerous than anything we’d faced so far.

  Then I saw that Kate was looking up at me, eyes wide with fear. My stomach knotted: she must be terrified.

  I took a deep breath and tried not to think about Afghanistan. About what happened the last time I was tasked with getting a civilian out. I put my hands on Kate’s shoulders. “Listen,” I said. “We’re going to go fast. We’re going to try to get into terrain where they’ll have to follow on foot. Then we can disappear.”

  She nodded but she still looked as if she wanted to throw up. I cupped her chin and forced steel into my voice. “They think this is going to be easy but they don’t know me and they don’t know you. I’ve seen what you can do. You and me, we’re going to pull this off. You hear me?”

  She swallowed. Nodded. Then she reached back behind her head, gathered up her hair and secured it in a ponytail. “Okay,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  My heart damn near melted. God, I loved this woman. I leaned down, grabbed her cheeks between my hands and kissed her hard, reveling in her softness, her sweetness, fueling myself for what was ahead. Then I led her outside and slammed the cabin door.

  A distant rumble of thunder made me look up. Shit. I’d forgotten about the storm. But we had no choice: we had to go.

  I pointed the way...and we ran.

  36

  Kate

  Back in New York, I ran every morning. I’d lace up my running shoes and run a five mile circuit through the streets before work. On Sundays I’d push it to nearly seven miles, pounding the paths through Central Park. I’d finish right at the spot where the string quartet played and I’d reward myself with a coffee. I knew I could run.

  I knew nothing. I found that out within the first mile.

  This wasn’t nice, smooth sidewalk. This was dirt and rock that slipped and gave under our feet and made every step exhausting. We had to cut uphill because the steeper slope would be tough for the 4x4s. It was like running up a flight of stairs that never ended, knowing that one careless step could end with me tumbling back down the slope, all the way to our pursuers’ feet. We couldn’t slow down. We had to keep going full pelt. And I was doing it all carrying a pack and wearing my goddamn work shoes.

  After ten minutes, I was panting. Twenty and I was exhausted. Thirty and I was soaked in sweat, my lungs screaming. And we hadn’t even reached the top of the slope.

  Beside me, Boone was plowing steadily on, matching my speed. I knew I was slowing him down. That was the worst part, knowing that, at any second, I might hear the sound of a shot and a bullet would rip through one of us. We knew they had rifles…

  “You’re doing great,” Boone told me. Jesus, he’s not even breathing hard. “Just keep going. Focus on the top.”

  I craned my head up to the top of the peak. If we could just reach it, once we were going down the other side we’d be hidden from view. Then we could disappear into the forest and they wouldn’t know which way we’d gone.

  But first, we had to reach it. And the way Boone kept checking behind us, I knew it wasn’t looking good. I didn’t want to look myself because the drop beneath us must be terrifying by now.

  “How—bad—is it?” I panted the next time he looked round.

  He shook his head. “Focus on the peak,” he ordered.

  But less than a minute later, I saw him take another look. He caught my eye. “We’re fine.”

  “Don’t—bullshit me,” I panted. My leg muscles felt as if someone was rubbing them on a cheese grater.

  Boone said nothing but I could see it in his eyes: they were close.

  I gritted m
y teeth and tried to move faster but it was useless. The slope had gotten even steeper and we were almost on all fours, using our hands as much as our feet. The pack on my back, so light when we’d left the cabin, now weighed about a million tons, threatening to tip me back down the slope. The wind was getting up, too, blowing right into my face, and the temperature was dropping. It wasn’t even noon yet and yet the sky was almost twilight-dark. The storm Boone had warned about was coming fast.

  A big, warm hand grabbed mine. I looked up into Boone’s eyes. “You can do it,” he growled.

  I panted and just shook my head.

  He nodded and his hand gripped mine a little tighter. “Then I’ll climb for both of us,” he told me. And he started to haul me up the slope. That made it easier for me: all I had to do was scrabble with my feet to keep up with him. But it meant that he had to do everything one-handed, plus cope with my drag. There was no doubt that I was slowing him down. My eyes met his again, pleading. I’m going to get you killed! Leave me!

  His grip on my hand became like iron. He stared right into my eyes and simply shook his head. A warm glow expanded to fill my chest. Whatever happened, he wouldn’t leave me behind.

  His big hand sunk into the dirt, his feet pounded at the grass and he powered us up the slope, with me pushing as hard as I could beside him. After what felt like hours, I put my hand up to grab the next handful of grass...and there was only air. We’d done it.

  He pulled me upright—the first time I’d been able to properly stand in hours. We were on the very top of the ridge, a path only a dozen feet wide. Bracing myself, I finally turned and looked around.

  Shit! My heart leapt into my mouth. Three men were charging up the slope behind us as if it was a running track. All of them were stocky with muscle and all were wearing military fatigues. Soldiers?! Who the hell did Weiss have working for him?