by Katie Ruggle
“So…” she started when she couldn’t stand not knowing any longer. “Do you actually know where we’re going, or are you just improvising? Because I feel like we’re at the beginning of one of those survival movies where we think we’re following the path, but we get lost and have to spend the winter fighting mountain lions for scraps.”
She was pretty sure she heard a snort, although it was hard to tell since Kavenski didn’t turn around. “We’re headed east.”
After waiting a few steps for clarification but only getting silence, she gave him a verbal nudge. “East is good. Langston is east…I assume. Do you have a specific destination in mind?”
He gave her an offended look over his shoulder, but she just gave an exaggerated shrug.
“Can you blame me for asking?” She waved in the direction of her feet. “I’m wearing sleeves on my feet, after all.” She was also getting thirsty, tired, hungry, ached all over, and she had to pee, but she didn’t want to whine too much.
“The town of Red Hawk,” he said, facing forward again. “Specifically, the Red Hawk police station.”
Oh, right. That had been their original plan before Kavenski had driven them off a cliff. “That’s right! It’s only, what? Five miles away?”
“Five miles on the road.”
“Oh.” She looked around with fresh dread at the wilderness stretching around them. This time she was glad that the trees limited her visibility. She’d rather not see exactly how far the nothingness went. “I don’t suppose we’re taking the shortcut.”
His laugh didn’t sound very amused. “Nope.”
With a sigh, she settled in for a very long, very rocky walk.
Chapter 10
It was impossible to know how much time had passed. The sun seemed to have shifted in the sky, but Cara had never had to pay attention to the sun’s location to figure out the time. That’s what cell phones were for. She promised herself that she’d start wearing a watch as soon as they managed to get home safely. She also threw in a promise to take a wilderness safety course.
“How long have we been walking?” Her voice sounded loud. Before she’d spoken, it had been silent except for the crunch of their footsteps and the sweep of the wind.
Squinting up at the sky, Kavenski said, “About an hour.”
Of course he knows how to tell time from the sun. She silently sighed, feeling like deadweight again. This isn’t your fault, she reminded herself. Not that it’s Kavenski’s fault either, but it definitely isn’t your fault. Still, she didn’t want to break out with the whining. “Mind if I stop to pee?”
In answer, he came to an abrupt stop. “Don’t go too far.”
“I won’t.” She definitely wouldn’t be wandering away from her wilderness guide. Finding a spot behind a particularly bushy pine tree, she took care of business. It was awkward enough that she added another item onto the Things to Hate about Abbott list, which was already really long. She picked up a handful of melting snow and rubbed it between her palms, hoping to feel like she’d washed up, but she just ended up with wet, numb hands. Making a face, she wiped the melted snow off on her pants and rejoined Kavenski.
“You don’t happen to have any power bars in those handy pockets of yours, do you?”
Even as he checked, he shook his head. When he pulled out a small item, she got excited, even when she saw it was a roll of breath mints. She held out her hand eagerly, expecting him to give her one, but he passed her the entire thing.
“Don’t you want any?” she asked.
“I ate this morning. You didn’t.” He started walking again, and she followed.
“Thank you.” She ate the mints one at a time, enjoying the small sugar rush. Her mouth didn’t feel so dry anymore, and her bladder was empty. Except for being completely exhausted and sore everywhere, she didn’t have much to complain about. The ground had leveled out quite a bit as well, which made it easier to walk. Although she still had to keep an eye on the ground in front of her, each step didn’t threaten to send her sliding off a cliff.
Finishing the mints, she tucked the wrapper in her hoodie pocket. When her hands were buried in the fleecy warmth, she realized how cold they’d gotten. The sky was overcast, and the aggravatingly cheerful but warm sun had disappeared. She studied the gray clouds carefully. They reminded her of the storms that rolled in almost every early evening during late summers in Langston.
“Do you think it’s going to rain?” she asked Kavenski, shivering as the breeze picked up.
“No.” Before relief could spread through her, he spoke again. “It might snow.”
“Snow?” The word was more of a yelp. She wasn’t ready for snow, and she wouldn’t be for a solid month. It was barely fall weather in Langston. She looked down at her hoodie and then at her sleeve-boots. “I don’t even have a hat.” When she heard her words, she wanted to laugh. A lack of a hat should probably be the least of her worries. “Do you think we’ll get to Red Hawk before it storms?”
“Doubt it.” He was starting to get that tight-jawed, clenched look he’d had when they were having grenades tossed at them, which made her more anxious about the upcoming weather. “We need to cross the river.”
“The river,” she repeated, trying to wrap her head around everything that a water crossing would entail. “The one that’s way down there?” Even though he couldn’t see her, she pointed in the general direction of where she’d last seen the river. It had looked tiny and far away, and the wrecked car had fallen for what had felt like a long time before it hit bottom. That was going to be a long descent in sleeve-boots—and an even longer climb back up. Another problem hit her. “Are we going to have to swim across?”
“It’s low enough now that we’ll be able to find a spot to wade across.”
Cara was quiet for a minute or two, absorbing all the ramifications. The dark clouds seemed to be racing in to cover the sky, only allowing the sun to peek out for a few seconds before the world darkened again. “Okay. First things first. It’s getting colder really fast, and I might have just spotted a snowflake. Should we find a sheltered spot to wait out the snow?” She couldn’t help but picture them trudging right off a cliff during a whiteout.
He gave her an approving look over his shoulder before pointing at something Cara couldn’t see. “There’s a structure of some kind in that direction. We’ll head toward it.”
Even squinting, she couldn’t spot what he was referring to. “Do you have ultimate-supreme vision? Because all I’m seeing are trees and rocks.”
“Ultimate-supreme vision?” When she just shrugged, he pointed again. “Look there when the sun’s out.”
She trotted a few steps until she was walking next to him rather than behind him, so he didn’t block the view. Now that she was waiting for a peek of sunlight, it felt like forever before there was a gap in the clouds. It only lasted for a moment or two before the sun disappeared again, but when the landscape was lit up with sunlight, she thought she saw something in the direction that Kavenski had pointed.
“What was that flash?” she asked, peering through the trees as she tried to catch the burst of light again. “Is someone signaling over there?”
“The sun’s reflecting off something shiny—probably a window.”
“Oh, that’s clever!” Without thinking about it, she reached over and gave his shoulder a pat. “Good eye. I was thinking we’d have to huddle under a bush to wait out the snow, but a house would be so much better. Maybe whoever lives there has a phone we can use. I just hope it’s not a Unabomber type who tries to kill us for trespassing. I’ve had enough of that for today—for a lifetime, really.”
The corner of his mouth twitched up, and she felt a surge of accomplishment for getting a rare Kavenski smile—well, his sort-of smile, at least. She’d need to work up to getting him to actually show teeth in a full-out grin.
“We’ll hope
for no Unabomber, then,” he said as evenly as if they were talking about the weather. Now she couldn’t hold back her own smile.
“I’m glad you came to rescue me,” she said impulsively, and then felt her face heat as she realized how strange that sounded. “Not just because I would probably be dead a few times by now if you hadn’t been here.”
His sideways look told her clearly that she was just digging herself deeper into an awkward hole.
Giving up on trying to make sense, she just blurted out her thoughts. “You’re making everything easier in this whole messed-up situation, and I’m glad I’m not trying to do this by myself.” After a pause, she couldn’t help but add, “Although I probably wouldn’t have driven us off a cliff, but that ended better than I expected, so I won’t hold it against you.”
The sound he made was a pearl-clutching huff of offense that made her snicker. “You would’ve rather been hit by that truck?” he asked.
“No, but I don’t think my solution would’ve involved cliff diving in a car.”
“It was the best spot. If we hadn’t blown a tire, it would’ve been a smooth ride down to the bottom.”
Cara bulged her eyes out at him. “Did you forget about the flipping-upside-down thing?”
Waving a hand, he made a sound of dismissal. “We were fine.”
“We almost went off the edge of a cliff—a real cliff.”
“But we didn’t.”
“It was close.” She shivered as she thought about just how close it had been.
“We didn’t die, and that’s all that matters.”
She was quiet for a few beats and then said, “I think that’s a good motto for this whole kidnapping adventure.”
“Adventure?” he repeated.
“Escapade?”
“Fiasco.”
“Yeah. That’s the right word for it.” She resisted the urge to companionably take his hand. They were escaping attempted murderers and kidnappers, not going for a stroll in the woods, she reminded herself. Still, what she’d said was true. If she had to be lost in the mountains with sleeve-boots and an approaching blizzard, there was no one she’d rather have with her than Kavenski. “Can I ask you something?”
The only change in his expression was the slight quirking of an eyebrow. “Can I stop you?”
“Sure.” Honesty prompted her to continue. “But I’ll probably just ask later, since this is really bugging me. You can choose not to answer, though.” A part of her did want to know, but on the other hand, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear the truth. After all they’d been through in just the past few hours, she felt as if she was starting to get to know him, and everything she was learning contradicted the facts in his file. “You didn’t really kill those people, did you?”
“Which people?”
She blinked. “It’s a little unnerving that you would need me to clarify which murder I’m referring to.”
His mouth slanted into the most fully formed smile that she’d seen on him.
Forcing herself to ignore how gorgeous that made him, she managed to frown. “It’s even more unsettling when you look all happy about these multiple killings.”
“Not the killings, you’re just…” He slashed down a hand, as if physically cutting off his thought.
Now she was intrigued. “I’m what?”
He stayed silent for so long that she was pretty sure he wasn’t going to answer, but she waited him out, her gaze fixed on the side of his face—well, as much as she could without tripping over something and falling flat on her own face.
“You have an…interesting way of putting things,” he finally said, surprising her with both his willingness to answer and the answer itself. “It’s cute.”
Now she was the one who couldn’t hide her grin. “You think I’m cute?”
Stoic McStoneface actually rolled his eyes. It was just a quick upward flick before he returned to his usual neutral expression, but she caught it. “Of course.” His voice was even gruffer than normal. “It’s not an opinion; it’s a fact. You are objectively cute.”
“Mmm.” She reluctantly let it go, but she couldn’t stop smiling. Henry Kavenski, who was objectively a super hottie, thought she was cute. The temptation to take his hand was even greater now, and she only resisted because she realized that he’d never answered her question. Now she was even more reluctant to find out that he was a stone-cold killer—because if he was, her excitement that he found her objectively cute became objectively creepy. “Did you kill Bettina and Lance Mason?”
“No.” From the look on his face, he hadn’t been planning to tell her the truth. He paused as he stepped onto a raised section of rock and then offered her a hand up. “I’m not telling you anything else about it, so don’t ask. The more you know, the bigger the target on your back.”
That actually made her laugh, although the sound didn’t hold much mirth. Grasping his proffered hand, she hauled herself up next to him, mentally cursing her lack of real boots when the bottoms of her battered feet throbbed painfully with the movement. Reluctantly, she released his hand as they continued forward again.
“I don’t know very much right now, but I’d say my back target is pretty darn huge. Ow!” Something sharp had poked the ball of her foot. Grabbing Kavenski’s arm for support, she lifted her foot, turning her knee outward so she could see her sole. She plucked a long pine needle out of her sleeve-boot and then gingerly set her foot down again. “For such a tiny thing, that hurt a lot. My queendom for a pair of hiking boots,” she muttered. When nothing else poked into her skin, she allowed her foot to take her full weight and released her grip on Kavenski.
He was frowning at her feet as they started walking again. “When we get to shelter, we’ll trade. You can have my boots,” he said.
“Thank you, but no. I’ll be fine.” She ignored the complaints of her sore and abraded soles. Every other part of her was cold from the wind that had started whipping around them, but the bottoms of her feet throbbed with heat, and her left big toe still ached from being stubbed on a rock several minutes earlier.
Kavenski gave her a look that she was pretty sure was supposed to make her quake in her sleeve-boots and agree to whatever he was suggesting, but Cara was past the point of being scared of him. He’d put her safety before his too many times for her to believe he’d ever hurt her. Not to mention, she was starting to get hungry again, and she was sore and thirsty and tired enough to be contrary just for the sake of being contrary. Besides, she had a good reason for not following his suggestion.
“Your boots would be enormous on me. Even if I managed to lace them tight enough that they didn’t fall off, I’d trip over every rock and probably get blisters since they’d be loose and rubbing against my ankles and heels. Thank you, but no thank you—and where is that damn house already?”
This time, his glance was less chiding and more startled.
“Sorry,” she said, even though she felt more surly than apologetic. “I’m just…done with this day.” It probably wasn’t even midmorning, and already it was the worst day of her life.
“Shouldn’t be too much farther.” Before she could complain that he was being unhelpfully vague, he continued, “Do you want me to carry you?”
“No. That’d be weird.” Realizing that she’d been less than polite when he was being so nice, she added a belated “Thank you, though.”
She tried to peer through the trees, but the heavy clouds had completely covered the sky, not allowing any glimpses of the sun. The dim light created impenetrable shadows between the trees, making it difficult to see more than twenty feet in front of her. The dark spaces reminded her that anything could be hiding in these trees.
Though she wasn’t as worried about wild animals as she was the human kind.
“Do you think they’ll come after us on foot?” she asked, automatically keeping her voice lo
w in case there were any unwelcome listeners. “Or will they wait for us to almost make it to Red Hawk before they burst out of the shadows and shoot us dead?”
“That’s a little pessimistic.”
She lifted her shoulders in a shrug and then winced. Every part of her was sore. “You say pessimistic, I say realistic. We’re running out of lucky chances.”
“Sure you don’t want me to carry you?” he asked, obviously having noticed her slight grimace of pain.
“I’m sure. Let’s save that for when we’re under fire and I’m unconscious and bleeding out.”
The sound he made was strange, kind of like a laugh disguised as a cough. “Good to know.”
“What’s good to know?”
“That you get morbid when you’re hungry.”
“And thirsty.” She’d reached the point where she didn’t care if she was whining. Her upper lip just couldn’t stay stiff any longer. “And tired and sore and really annoyed about being kidnapped and shot at.”
“Don’t forget about the grenade being tossed at you.”
Cara scowled at the mention. “Oh, don’t worry. I haven’t. That’s definitely on the list.” After a pause, she added, “You never answered. Were you trying to distract from the fact that Abbott and his guys are after us?” The groaning of the wind was loud enough that someone could be driving a tank toward them right now and she wouldn’t hear it until it was on top of them. Not that it’d be easy getting a tank up here, her brain interjected, making Cara shake her head, trying to wrangle her straying thoughts even as she started to imagine approaching helicopters and heavy weaponry. Stop, she ordered the more lurid parts of her imagination. Not helping.
“Doubt they’ll come after us on foot,” he said, but there was a very slight emphasis on the last two words that made her uneasy.
“So they are coming in tanks and helicopters.” She marched forward more quickly, grimly determined to reach the structure before the invading army attacked. Maybe the Unabomber-type homeowner would have some useful weapons they could use to defend themselves.
