“So you think we should stay?”
“I think we need to consider both options and be realistic about this. People have died hiking in these conditions. Frostbite. Hypothermia. We barely escaped losing some fingers already.”
“When you put it like that, I’m leaning toward parking myself in front of that fire for the foreseeable future.”
“Me too, but we still have the food problem.”
She frowns. “Didn’t see anything while we were out there except those wolves. But there’s gotta be something, right?”
“Rabbits. Elk. We might get lucky.”
“You’re not making this easy.”
“That’s because it isn’t easy, but whatever we decide, it has to be the same deal as before. We make the choice together.”
Is she on board for traipsing through miles of snow when they have a perfectly good cabin right here with plenty of firewood? The answer to that is hell no, but he’s not wrong about the food. If they wait too long and get stuck here without anything to eat, then they’ll be extra fucked.
“You think we can make it out there? Really?” she asks, softly.
“I do.”
“Then let’s go.”
Just saying it out loud sends a shiver up her spine. Hard situations have hard choices. They’ve made it this far, they can’t quit now.
The owners of the cabin stored away some prime arctic clothing deep in the closets. Her new boots are a bit too big, but they’re warmer than before, and the wool socks are even better. They trade in their parkas from the plane for heavier versions lined with fur and stuffed to the brim with insulation. The heated gloves are an upgrade, too. Whoever lives here isn’t playing around when it comes to their winter gear.
They scribble a note promising to pay for what they’ve taken and return what they can, and asking for help to be sent in the direction they’re going, just in case someone returns before they reach Barrow. They’re bundled up and puffed out, waddling through the first few feet of snow when Theo points to a shed they haven’t seen before, tucked between the trees.
“How the fuck did we miss that?” he grunts.
“We weren’t exactly paying attention as we ran for the door that first time and haven’t gone out since.”
Theo wipes at frozen, crisp glass before peering in the window. “I think there’s something in there. Something good.”
He forces the door open with a shoulder slam that pops the flimsy lock. Then they’re faced with a cloth-covered mass in the center of a rundown shop. A cloud of dust encircles them, fluttering out from the fabric Theo whips off to reveal a shiny new snowmobile.
Nora nearly squeals in delight. She’s not one to be over the top about things, but this whole mess they’ve gotten into has brought about more than one extreme reaction, and this is another to add to the list. She throws her arms around his neck in a quick hug prompted by unfiltered joy at seeing something that’ll cut down their trip time so drastically.
He chuckles, awkwardly patting her on the back a few times before she pulls away sheepishly. Hadn’t meant to do that, she was just excited, but now all she can think about is how good it felt to be that close to him and how warm his cheek was when she pushed her own against it.
The keys are right on the seat. When he flicks on the engine, the full tank meter is the second-best thing she’s seen all day.
They don’t have to walk sixty miles. They can ride there.
“How far do you think this will get us?” she asks.
“The whole trip. These things are efficient. Barely use up more gas than a bike does.”
They push it out together into the freshly packed snow and when he climbs on the back, tilting his head for her to join him, he doesn’t have to ask twice.
She has a good reason to hug him now to keep from falling off the end of the machine. It’s only practical to wrap her arms around him from behind and hang on tight. “Is this okay?”
“Mhmm. Hold on. It’s got a kick to it.”
“You’ve ridden these before, right? You know what you’re doing?”
“Might have spent a few winters in Aspen trying to escape my family on the back of one of these.”
