Perfect Strangers

by Dani Atkins

  ‘Yes, we are. It’s the best way for us to keep warm and retain our heat.’

  I nodded, and then shivered as a few opportunist flakes of snow found a gap at the back of my borrowed sweatshirt and began to trickle down my neck. The weather was getting rapidly worse. ‘And are we going to have to be . . . do we need to be . . . should we get . . .’ I could feel my cheeks beginning to burn as I struggled to ask my question without actually using the word ‘naked’ in it.

  Logan’s eyes were definitely twinkling with amusement as he climbed out of the shelter and straightened up. ‘Kit on or off, is that what you’re trying to ask?’

  I nodded and dipped my head, feeling stupid that I was being so childish about it, especially when I’d already spent one night in his arms wearing only the flimsiest pieces of underwear. What the hell did it matter what we were wearing? This was about survival. If he told me to strip down stark naked, then I should do it.

  I felt his fingers rest beneath my chin, gently raising my face and forcing me to meet his gaze. ‘Clothes on. Lots of them. Let’s see how much of Bob’s wardrobe we can wear before we look like a pair of sumo wrestlers, shall we?’

  I was glad I had asked Logan to go and stand by the lake while I attended to a call of nature before I started getting kitted up for the night, because by the time I had struggled into two further jumpers and pulled a pair of thick joggers over my jeans, I was finding it decidedly difficult to move. Certainly putting on four pairs of socks had been quite the challenge, especially when I couldn’t really bend at the middle. I stuck out my feet and looked at them with amusement. They reminded me of how Kate’s had looked at the end of her pregnancy.

  The fire’s heat was momentarily blocked as Logan came to stand by our shelter’s opening. ‘All done?’ he asked, and I nodded my answer. ‘Okay, I guess it’s bedtime then,’ he announced. For no reason at all I could feel the beat of my heart quicken and pound against the wall of my chest. Fortunately, dressed in this many layers, no one could possibly see that.

  ‘Would you like me to go behind you?’ I gave a small noisy swallow, and wondered if he realised how suggestive his question had sounded. Then he moved to one side and I saw the mischief dancing on his face by the light of the blazing fire. I couldn’t help the small bubble of laughter that burst from me. He had managed to perfectly defuse all awkwardness from this totally weird situation by making a joke of it. I shook my head at his skilful manipulation. Perhaps he was a politician, I hadn’t thought of that one.

  ‘No. You go in front,’ I offered. ‘Then if anything . . .’ like a nine-hundred-pound male grizzly bear with claws like sabres ‘. . . comes charging out of the forest, you’ll be able to get to it first.’

  ‘Or get eaten first,’ Logan offered as a horrible alternative that I hadn’t even considered.

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mean—’ Seeing my look of genuine dismay he flopped down onto the velour robe beside me and put an arm around my shoulders, drawing me against him for a quick reassuring hug.

  ‘Don’t worry. I know what you meant. But I really don’t think they’ll trouble us, as long as we keep building up the fire in the night, I’m pretty sure they’ll stay far away.’

  They hadn’t the night before, but I didn’t want to go to sleep with that thought in the forefront of my mind, so I just wriggled backward into the covering until I could feel the solidness of the boulder at my back. At least nothing would be able to grab me from behind. Logan lay down on the gown and swept the material over and around us both, and then tucked it beneath him for good measure. Swaddled tightly together like bugs in a chrysalis it was impossible to do anything except allow our bodies to curl against each-other. I bent my legs until they perfectly matched the angle of his own, tucking them in close behind him. This was how William and I had always slept, like spoons in a drawer. But although the position was familiar, the man I was nestled behind certainly wasn’t. I hesitated with my hands, not knowing where to put them until I felt Logan reach behind him and grab my free arm and bring it around to the front of his body.

  ‘God, your hands are like ice,’ he exclaimed, lifting the offending body parts closer to his face and letting his lips rest against the marrow-chilled flesh. Very gently he exhaled onto my fingers and palms, warming the frozen skin with the heat of his breath. There was something unintentionally intimate in his actions, and as the nerve endings in my icy digits began to tingle and come back to life, I wasn’t entirely sure if the sensation was due to the blood coursing back through them or something else altogether.

  The snow started to fall with renewed vigour not long after we had swaddled ourselves into our shelter. The fine deceptive icing sugar-like speckles that had first drifted down quickly fused together to form spiky-edged crystals, the type that cover a slippery pavement in seconds . . . or put out fires. The sound of the constant hiss of flakes falling onto the flames was enough to ensure that neither or us felt safe enough to sleep. Keeping the fire blazing was our number one priority. It was the first and most important lesson in my new crash course in survival. It was also, quite possibly, all that stood between us freezing to death or being mauled by something that suddenly fancied a bit more variety in its diet.

  ‘I’ll take first watch,’ volunteered Logan, propping himself up on one elbow, after checking the covering we’d draped over the pile of firewood was still in place. ‘Get some rest, Hannah.’

  ‘Only if you promise you’re not going to pull some stupid macho stunt and let me sleep all night.’

  ‘No, I’m way too selfish for that,’ Logan denied, in a tone of voice that made me realise that was exactly what he’d been intending to do.

  ‘I might not be as much use as you at this survival stuff, but staying awake all night is something I definitely know how to do,’ I said, my voice unknowingly revealing far more about my weeks of sleepless nights than I intended.

  Logan spoke so quietly into the inky blackness of the night, his words were almost whisked away by the gathering storm. ‘I don’t know what he did, but he’s so not worth it, Hannah.’

  I stiffened instantly, and he must have felt the way I drew back from him, instinctively putting distance between us. ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised, before I had the chance to speak, or jump to the defence of someone I probably had no place defending. ‘That was totally out of line. It’s none of my business, I apologise.’ I was quiet for a long moment, not sure how I felt about his comment. ‘But just for the record, you’re wrong about one thing, you know,’ he continued.

  I’d been wrong about so much lately, it was hard to know precisely what he meant by that. ‘You said you’re no good at this survival business. But it was obvious to me from the very first moment that we met that you’re a born survivor, Hannah.’ I fell asleep with his curious words echoing like a ricochet around my head.

  For someone who claimed to be suffering from relationship-induced insomnia, I managed to sleep with embarrassing ease. But worry about failing to take my turn at tending the fire must have acted like a silent alarm clock. In that curious way the human body sometimes does, I woke up naturally just seconds before I felt Logan’s hand gently shaking my shoulder.

  ‘Your turn now,’ he said sleepily, collapsing down onto the mattress of fern branches. ‘I’m struggling to keep my eyes open,’ he said, the words swallowed by an enormous yawn.

  I wriggled out of our dressing gown cover and clambered over his legs to reach for a few more lengths of wood to put onto the already blazing fire. He’d done a good job at keeping it going, and despite the storm that was now whipping the snow into a whirling maelstrom of white beyond our shelter, the fire’s warmth could still be felt. I didn’t lay down beside him, fearful I might fall back asleep, so instead I sat by his feet, legs drawn up to my body, my arms tightly wrapped around them for warmth.

  ‘Has it all been quiet?’ I asked, my eyes scanning the white blanket of snow around our shelter for uninvited footprints.

  ‘Yes and no,’ he repl
ied sleepily, ‘Your snoring was loud enough to frighten away even the most determined of bears.’

  I felt a warmth on my cheeks, which might have been from the flickering orange blaze of the fire, or possibly his words. I stared deeply into the flames as a memory danced and shimmered before me in their depths.

  ‘You snore,’ William had declared on the morning after our very first night together. It had been a big step for me, a big commitment. We’d waited a little less than I felt we should have, and several weeks longer than he’d have liked. But it had been worth it. Although I’d woken on the unfamiliar silky sheets of his queen-sized bed, feeling unsure and wrong-footed. Was I supposed to have spent the night, or should I have slipped away while he slept? Wasn’t that the cool and sophisticated thing to do? Except I wasn’t cool, or sophisticated. I was totally swept away by William. Every single thing about him bowled over my normal caution, reticence and inhibitions like helpless skittles. As he’d slid his body into mine in the night, I’d actually had to bite my lip to stop myself from saying the three words that it was far too early to voice. ‘Oh yes,’ William had said, bending his head and kissing me slowly on lips that still felt swollen. ‘Never thought I’d end up falling in love with a woman who snores.’

  Logan slept, silent and motionless, on the ground beside me. I spent a good deal longer of my watch than I should have studying him, trying to figure him out. Curiously he appeared even more good-looking and younger in repose, but I missed the twinkling light in his green eyes and the way they crinkled at the edges. His lips were parted slightly, but they looked vaguely wrong without the curving smile of encouragement that he’d worn all day to bolster my flagging morale. Was he always this positive and upbeat, I wondered, or was he naturally one of those people who came into their own at a time of crisis?

  Almost as though he had picked up on my thoughts, Logan’s head stirred restlessly on the makeshift pillow and a frown creased his forehead. The urge to reach over and ease away the small furrow line between his brows with my fingertips was surprisingly strong – not to mention inappropriate. He could be married, for all I knew. That was a sobering thought. Was there a wife somewhere desperately waiting for news that he had survived the crash? He wore no ring, but that didn’t mean anything. Irrationally I didn’t like the idea of him belonging to someone else, being part of a family unit. I wanted him to exist just for me while we were here, intrinsically tied to me as we struggled together to find our way out of danger. The fact that in the real world an entirely different life existed for both of us was disquieting, unsettling and somehow irrelevant. Nevertheless tomorrow I would get him to answer all those questions he had so skilfully sidestepped so far, I promised myself.

  I didn’t realise I had dozed off until the howls pierced through the thick fuzzy veil of sleep that had settled over me like a shroud. I sat up with a jolt, unable to feel anything in my lower legs, which had grown numb from the cold and hours without movement. My head shot up from where it had been resting on my knees. I looked first towards the forest, fearful of predators and then towards the rocky terrain beyond the clearing from where the sound had come. The howl came again, not that close, I realised thankfully, but near enough for its shrill baying to travel clearly through the snow-laden skies. Blindly I reached for one of the two homemade spears that Logan had left at either side of our shelter. But even as my hands fastened around the thick branch length I saw something even more frightening than a creature howling into the night . . . our fire was almost out. How could I have been so stupid? I dropped the spear and it clattered noisily on to the stony ground as I reached for a handful of the dry grasses we’d collected earlier in the day.

  My hands were trembling as I dropped the tendrils of foliage on the dwindling embers, which was all that remained of the fire that I’d been left in charge of. I leant down low, my face close to the ground and gently blew on the pile of ashy cinders. I wasn’t even aware I was speaking out loud, stupidly talking to something that couldn’t hear me. ‘Please, fire, please don’t go out. Please take.’ I tried again to blow lightly, but my breath was hitching too much, as tears of panic overwhelmed me. I’d been given one task – just one – to keep us safe, and I had messed it up, big time.

  ‘Calm down,’ came his voice. ‘You’re doing it right, keep going.’ I glanced up from my prone position. I hadn’t even noticed Logan getting out of the shelter and crouching down on the opposite side of the dying fire. Like me, he too bent down, bringing his face level with the sticks that no longer held the orange glow of embers. I reached blindly for more dry grass and my fingers collided with his as they did the same. Together we dropped it onto the still-warm kindling.

  ‘Gently,’ Logan advised, his lips pursed almost as though he was about to kiss the fire back to life. ‘Like you were blowing soap bubbles, not candles on a cake.’ I nodded dumbly, realising I’d been doing it wrong. I closed my eyes, to protect them from flying cinders as we both blew on the curly dry grass. I felt the warmth of his breath mingling with mine as together we attempted to resuscitate the dying fire.

  ‘Make a wish,’ Logan said softly, from across the single thin rising tendril of grey smoke we had breathed into existence.

  ‘I wish for the fire to take.’

  A crackling sound and a tiny flicker of orange, smaller than a struck match, appeared between us. ‘Granted,’ he said, slowly raising his head from its position at ground level. ‘Although you’re supposed to keep it a secret,’ he said, carefully loading thin twigs onto the small hungry flame. It ate them greedily, and Logan smiled in satisfaction as I placed a few more to join his own.

  ‘I’m not a big fan of secrets these days,’ I said, unwittingly giving him yet another glimpse into my recent history. I looked across the fire at him. ‘Logan, I’m so sorry I let it go out.’

  ‘No problem,’ he said, letting me off the hook far too easily in my opinion.

  We sat shoulder to shoulder in the entrance of the shelter, the velour gown wrapped around us, as we nursed the fire back to its former strength. After a while I could feel my eyes growing heavier, and somehow it didn’t seem odd at all to just lay my head against the waiting breadth of his rock-hard shoulder. I felt his arm snake around my waist, cinching me more firmly against him, like he was anchoring me. I fell asleep in a position that should have been uncomfortable and unnatural, but which felt entirely the opposite.

  Day Three

  Sometime while I slept he must have slipped away from me, sliding the folded clothes we’d used as pillows beneath my cheek, which now rested against the boulder at the back of the shelter.

  He was standing beside the lake, his eyes on the cloud-heavy morning skies when I crawled out of our lean-to, every single joint and muscle shrieking in protest at my choice of overnight accommodation. I was still hobbling stiffly as I went to stand at his side. I surveyed the sky hopefully, knowing from the silence in the snow-covered clearing that no aeroplane engines were flying overhead.

  Almost as though he had read my thoughts, Logan reached across and squeezed my shoulder comfortingly. ‘Just because we can’t see them up there, it doesn’t mean they aren’t looking for us.’

  I nodded, because it was a little too early in the day to lose all hope. I had to save something to look forward to later. I’d brought one of our water containers with me to the lake and I bent down to fill it. ‘I guess I’ll get started on our breakfast,’ I said, which had sounded a good deal funnier in my head than it did when it left my lips.

  This time I made sure he took his share of the chocolate as we sat beside the fire slowly sipping the boiling water beverage. He took the squares reluctantly, but at least he took them. He waited until we’d both drunk as much as we could stomach before leaning back on the low flat rock he was using as a seat. ‘We’re going to need to stock up on deadfall again, and we’ll need to dig out your SOS message, because the snow has buried it, I’m afraid.’ I frowned as I looked around the unblemished expanse of the clearing. T
he snow had covered everything in sight, not just our message, but all the rest of the scattered debris from the plane. From the air it would look as though we had never been there at all. And if it snowed again tonight, we’d be doing the same thing all over again tomorrow. It was like that film Groundhog Day . . . but nowhere near as funny.

  ‘Logan, I really think we should try and walk out of here. We might be miles and miles away from where the rest of the plane came down. We’ve no guarantee the search planes will even head this way.’

  Logan shook his head, but I think I caught a wavering uncertainty in his refusal this time. ‘I still think we should stay here with the wreckage.’

  ‘We can’t even see the wreckage any more, so how is a search plane going to find it?’ I reasoned. ‘And besides, I don’t think this is a particularly safe location. We already know there are bears nearby, and last night I heard wild dogs, or coyotes or something in the hills.’

  He was just a little too slow to hide the look of undeniable concern in his eyes at my words. ‘You heard what?’

  ‘Dogs?’ I said tentatively, ‘. . . coyotes?’

  He shook his head. ‘We’re too far north for coyotes.’ He gave a small helpless shrug. ‘At least I think we are.’

  ‘So what were they then? What did I hear?’

  His eyes met mine, and the look in them said ‘you know what they were’ and of course I did. I knew it . . . I just didn’t want to admit it.

  ‘Wolves,’ I said in a whisper, as though the pack were hiding behind the rocks and might hear me talking about them.

  Logan blew out a long sigh from between troubled lips. ‘Let’s just hope we haven’t accidentally ended up in their hunting ground,’ he said darkly.

  ‘How would we know if we had?’

  He shrugged his shoulders. ‘I have absolutely no idea.’