Her thighs burn with the effort of trudging, and the wind stings her cheeks, snowflakes leaving tracks like salty, frozenover tears. Each gust threatens to shove her off course, but Theo’s steady weight beside her as she holds onto his arm is the anchor that keeps her upright.
They couldn’t get out of the Sheriff’s office fast enough once the first rays of sunlight started to break through the blizzard, only now she worries they might be hiking into an even worse situation, if only because their track record when it comes to luck isn’t exactly leaning in their favor these days. Well, maybe that’s not true, she thinks briefly, leaning into the wind that breaks against her face and chest, one arm curling tighter around Theo’s bicep for balance. Maybe she’s luckier than she gives the universe credit for.
“You good? You squeezed my arm. Is something wrong?”
He is hyper vigilant as they get closer to the building and the weather intensifies, noticing every small thing she does as if he’s as afraid as she is that they’re about to get kicked in the teeth.
“I was just thinking about how lucky I am,” she says through her scarf.
He chuckles. “Oh yeah. We’re batting a thousand over here.”
“I’m serious. I found you. That’s more than enough luck as far as I’m concerned.”
“Don’t go getting sentimental yet. Save that for when we’re safe and warm and no one’s trying to tear our throats out. Otherwise, we’re tempting fate.” He’s right. Speaking these things out loud is dangerous, but his dismissive reply turns soft a moment later, his words hitting all the right spots in her heart. “But, ditto. For the record. I feel pretty damn lucky, too.”
“Stop,” she groans in a teasing whine. “My teeth hurt from all that sugar. I never took you for someone so sentimental.”
“Alright, alright,” he huffs. “You started it.”
“I dunno what you’re talking about. I’ve never been sentimental a day in my life.” The words are a playful cover forthe fear that hums beneath them, as if she admits how much he means to her, he’ll be snatched away.
Poking at each other serves as a decent distraction from the cold, at least at first but soon all their teasing falls quiet as their target comes into view.
“Wait.” He holds up a hand, stopping them both. “Hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“The snow…it’s cracking….run!”
The slope they’re on starts to tremble and give way, sliding down in a mini avalanche that chases them both as he grabs her hand and pulls her off to the side and further toward the structure ahead, narrowly missing the brunt of the impact.
Carefully and with grunting curses, they rip themselves from the lightly compacted powder.
“How did you know it would do that?” she asks.
“Spent a winter in Montana alone with my brother, trying to cross a particularly hostile terrain. Sometimes you can hear the snow shifting right before an avalanche.”
Nora shakes the snow off her arms with a shiver. “Did you get caught in one?”
“No. Almost. It was fine, there were dogs ready to locate us if it happened.”
She bristles, her nose scrunching up like he’s said something insane. “None of that sounds fine to me. Cruel and deranged to put your children in that situation? Yes. Fine? No. I am grateful you knew what an avalanche sounds like, though.”
It’s funny sometimes how even though he is fully aware of how fucked up his childhood actually was, it’s easier to make excuses for it even now, until someone points out the absurdity of the situation. “It was a long time ago. I’m just glad I remembered. There are no search dogs on standby for us now. You still have the code, right? We’re almost there.”
She nods as a swift gust shoves them backward a few steps. The only thing keeping them both upright now is each other. The paper holding the entry code to the wildlife center burns a hole in her pocket as they trudge the last short distance, and she fishes it out. From the outside, it looks vacant, and her hope begins to plummet. She tells herself that Gwen could still be inside, unaware that they’re steps away and it doesn’t mean a damn thing that no one is flinging open that door to rush out and greet them. The relief of seeing her friend again, and smothering her in a hug she’s been waiting for since she got on that plane, is within reach.
Her pulse pounds faster the closer they get. The complex is larger than she expected. The first building connects to the others by an interior walkway, yet it offers no door, so they start to walk the perimeter, struggling to find the entrance for far longer than their skin can handle the cold. By the time they stand in front of a metal door with a lockbox, her hand shakes as she punches in the numbers. The ocean behind them shoves mountains of ice onto its shore with every wave. They may as well be at the edge of the world up here, she thinks, as the heat from the interior lures them in.
Their greeting on the other side is swift but smaller than expected. A penguin runs toward them in a chattering flutter of excitement. One of his flippers is missing, but his happiness to see them is clear as he cuddles up to Theo’s boot with the most adorable cooing sounds.
“Hey, buddy.” Theo smiles, unzipping his coat while she does the same. “Who’s looking after you?”
“Gwen? Oliver?” Nora calls out. They need to be careful, but they’re armed, and there’s not a chance she can keep quiet while being so close to salvation.
There is no response. The silence that follows is louder than any storm.
Theo calls out after her, giving the penguin a pat on the back before standing to lead them further into the center. It’s warm in here compared to outside, and they shed their outer layers one by one in favor of soaking up the heat. Her stomach drops further with every step that yields no long-awaited reunion. What they do find are rows of animals eager to see a human face, all lined up in little kennels near the back of the structure. Seals and penguins, an owl, and one fox.
