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“It’s too late to hike it back. You’ll return it first thing tomorrow.”
She nods absently, focusing on the knife in Kody’s hand.
“You did good,” I say to him, pressing a kiss to his temple that makes him snarl. Then I release my grip on the hilt and step back. “I’m leaving tonight.”
“Tonight?” Kody yanks the blade out with a grunt and tosses it on the table.
“Careful.” I motion at the blood seeping from his fist. “You’re making a mess.”
“I thought you weren’t flying out until tomorrow.” Holding his injured hand to his stomach, he reaches behind his head and drags his sweatshirt over his head, leaving a thinner shirt beneath. With a quick twist of the fabric, he wraps the sweatshirt around his wound. “It’s not safe to fly at night.”
His concern warms my chest, even though I know it’s not directed at me. If I die in a plane crash, they’ll die, too.
Starving to death is no picnic. No pun intended. It would take months for them to die, but they would. No one knows they’re here. Winter is unforgiving, and hunting becomes impossible. The food would run out.
I wouldn’t wish that on my boys, but I need to get those snow machine parts and check on a few things in the city.
Living without a satellite phone or any communication with the outside world offers freedom unlike anything else. But I feel unsettled about the way I left things with Monty Novak. It’s a nagging, foreign feeling, one I haven’t experienced since Gretchen Stolz.
I must put it to bed.
“I’ll only be gone two days. Three tops.” I step toward Wolf and pet his unresponsive head. “The winter supply trip will wait until next month.”
The last flight before winter is as vital as the first flight after the thaw. We barely make it through the coldest months. When the snow blows in, forming drifts as tall as the chimneys, the cupboards never have enough food. No matter how much we prepare. And now we have an extra mouth to feed.
“I’ll help you load the plane.” Leo heads toward the door.
“Already done.” I pat my pocket, confirming I still have his list.
“The returnables, too?”
“Yes.”
“Returnables?” Frankie’s gaze pings between us.
“We don’t produce a lot of trash.” I rub my brow, my mind running in a million directions. “But if it can’t be composted or burned, it goes in the returnables bin. Mostly plastics and recycling. Sometimes hazardous waste and scrap metal. I take the returnables back to civilization.” I give her a wink. “Because I care about the environment.”
“Sure you do.” She narrows her eyes, her anger returning. “Where do you take it? Do you have a contact who does shit for you? Who takes care of your yacht?”
I release a slow breath and stride toward her. Like always, she stiffens at my nearness but doesn’t cower.
“Be a good girl while I’m gone.” I run my nose through her hair, delighting in her shiver. “Patch up Kody and show him how sorry you are for hurting him.”
20
Leonid
—
Dread squirms in my stomach, the same sensation that always invades when I watch Denver’s plane fly away.
He’s a selfish prick for taking this risk at night. What if he crashes?
What if he doesn’t come back?
We have enough food for two months, maybe three. Winter will be here long before then.
Hiking out has never been an option. I’ve tried. And failed.
For all the running Frankie did today, she stayed within a three-mile radius of the cabin. I wonder if she knows that. Does she know that no one has ever made it farther than thirty miles? The closest road is over a hundred miles away.
Even if one of us attempted the trek on foot or the bike, there’s no traffic on the closest road. No one to help. According to Denver, it’s another several hundred miles to the nearest town.
Only he knows where we are and which way to head for the road system.
Sometimes I question if we’re even in America. Could be Russia. Could be Canada. What I do know is that setting out in search of other people isn’t just impossible. It’s certain death.
And that makes me sick with worry.
As the distant hum of his plane fades into silence, my panic builds, sending icy tingles through every nerve ending until my whole body buzzes with anxious energy.
Denver won’t abandon us. He’ll come back. He won’t leave us to die.
The front door opens, and soft steps approach.
Frankie appears at the railing beside me, her presence robbing my thoughts and my damn senses. Not even the cold sweeps away her warmth. I feel her everywhere, coating my skin, sinking into my bones, and I fucking hate it.
“Kodiak won’t let me help him.” She stares at the black sky, those wild green eyes too big for her thin face. “He stormed off when I tried.”
