Page 44 of The Villains of Winter

He’d destroy her entire future. If he took her across state lines, the media would implicate her in a homicide.

He refused to let her become associated with any of it. She was far too young. This was his crime. This was his problem. James couldn’t be responsible for Elliott either. He’d only be seen as an accomplice.

Elliott leaned his head further in his arms. “I was the one chosen for death. You should stay here in Connecticut. You can still return to your normal life.”

James lowered his eyes and thought for a moment.

“I don’t want to return without you.” James raised his eyes. “A manhunt will be issued; that’s more dire than if I become senator or not. A remote wilderness out of the country might be the only solution at this point.”

They wouldn’t need new identities, new documentation, or even new currency. However, they would need to live off-grid. Elliott had never lived without civilization before.

At least he wasn’t dead. He needed to focus on that.

Elliott collapsed onto his back in the snow. He needed to catch his breath before they ditched town. He inhaled lungfuls of crisp air, drinking in the cold air greedily, grateful to be alive. “Thank you for saving my life.”

James let himself rest beside Elliott for only one minute; his body sanguine in the snow in comparison to Elliott’s scrapes and bruises. “I swore to protect your soul. I meant every word.”

“Thank you for everything.” Elliott sounded quiet. He stared at the painted, livid battle scar beneath James’s right eye from the recitation. “But…this is your chance to live a normal life. I don’t want to ruin your life. You could still be the future senator.” Elliott sat up and he wrapped his arms around his knees, then buried his face in his sleeves. “This is your only life, James. Don’t waste it on me.”

James could stay in Connecticut, if he wanted. He would graduate within a year and a half and start his career as a political aide for Congressman Pittman for professional experience that paid well. However, that’s not what he wanted.

He didn’t want to be anywhere without Elliott.

Instead, James rose to his feet. “The five o’clock train will leave without us, if we don’t make it there on time.” He checked his classic wristwatch again. 7:01 AM.

“The train?” Why did James keep mentioning the train?

James leaned closer to him and whispered his plan. “Knox Pearson lives in Kodiak, Arkansas. We will need supplies, provisions, and survivalist equipment. Knox’s uncle has a remote farm and we can hide out there.”

“For how long?”

“For as long as we can manage. Lucien will be declared missing by the time it’s the Yuletide, if not by the New Year.”

Similar to Lucien, James had been invited as a guest of Ambassador Bolívar to the Metropolitan Opera for the New Year Gala fundraiser. However, he was prepared to leave it all behind.

For him.

“All we need to do is leave now while we can.”

Elliott found his way to his feet.

​​ CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

ELLIOTT WAS CERTAIN HE WOULD catch his death bathing in the frozen river, scouring himself of blood and grime. Move quickly. The pair couldn’t be seen drenched in someone’s blood. Don’t die out here, Elliott.

A hazardous blizzard was coming from the Marlborough Mountains with lethal intentions, and Elliott was already beginning to lose sight of the distant mountains due to the vicious maelstrom.

His limbs were numb, already lost of sensation. The shock of the situation kept making him hyperventilate again. The ice crept through his lungs, the temperatures were dropping drastically.

It was as if nature itself had witnessed their crimes and sought to enact brutal justice itself against them. Their only solace was that no one would be in the wilderness. Everyone heated themselves inside their brick homes or colonial mansions for the winter as ice congealed everything from the gable roofs to the empty streets. The arbitrary malice of winter storms often kept the residents of Banebury from the outdoors, restricted even sensible deer hunters from their normal hunting grounds, and barred the hikers from their common trails near the summit.

However, in Elliott’s worried mind, that also meant no one might find their hypothermic bodies until the next day.

7:51 AM. Next to the streamlet, James kindled an open fire for their survival. Which was a risky decision since the massive fire could only exist for an hour before the dark fumes would become a smoke signal in the wintry sky instead of a source of heat. Someone might see them. They might search for the source of the smoke.

However, James was intent on burning the body. 8:38 AM.

Not for the first time, Elliott urged, “We need to extinguish the fire. It’s too large. It will draw attention.”