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We trail as fast as we can through the deep snow, but my muscles are burning, and my fingers are frozen through my gloves. I fist my hands.
The wind rushes, trapped between two mountains, and all I can hear is my pulse in my ears.
“How much farther?” I shout.
“I have no idea!” Noah tells me, pointing to the line of snow between the trees. “We just follow this!”
A shot of lightning strikes suddenly, hitting a spruce on the incline above us, and I scream.
Noah falls, startled, and I lean over to grab him. “Noah!”
I grit my teeth, using every muscle I have to lift him out of the snow.
He pulls his hood back up and grabs hold of me, hugging me to keep me warm.
“It’s only going to get worse,” he says. “We need to pitch a tent and wait this out!”
“We’re not pitching a tent with metal rods on a mountain in a lightning storm!” I tell him, backing away. “Let’s go!”
I lead the way, taking us through the valley and climbing over snow-covered boulders toward Kaleb. I hum to myself, squeezing my fists to keep the blood flowing, knowing each step brings us closer to the cabin.
I’m worried he’s not okay. It’s been so long.
I’m also worried I’ll want to kill him for disappearing like this. How dare he just live up here like nothing matters. I don’t care if we fight. I’m actually looking forward to it. Just as long as he’s there and just as long as he’s breathing.
Pebbles hit my hood, the tap against the fabric sporadic but hard. I tip my face up, bullets of ice belting my cheeks.
I dip my head back down, crouching under the onslaught. “Sleet!”
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Noah growls.
He takes my hand, and we run, seeing a cave ahead. Racing toward the entrance, we dive inside, out of the wind, snow, and ice, and I pull my hood off and my warmer down, wiping off my face with my gloved hand.
“You okay?” Noah asks.
“Yeah.”
My face burns, and I’m afraid to look at it. I can just hear Jake now. Why would you do something so stupid?
And he’d be right. This was dumb.
I’d probably still do it again, though.
Noah shivers, shaking out his coat and blowing into his hands.
“I thought you grew up here?” I tease.
“Shut up.”
I smile. Tenderfoot.
I go to take off my pack, but then I look up, feeling snow still falling on my face. Light enters above us, and I look to my right, seeing more light ahead.
This isn’t a cave.
It’s a tunnel.
Walking toward the exit, I clutch the straps of my pack and step into the open, pulling my hood up again. Snow falls, the wind sweeps through, and I feel the tiny taps of sleet hitting my jacket, but it’s calmer than on the other side of the wall.
