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.
Much calmer.
Trees loom over us, clusters of firs and spruces dressed with snow, and I hear the water. Rock walls surround the glen, which is about half the size of a football field, the only entrance I see is the one we just came through. The area is shielded by rocks and trees, but the weather still swoops in from above, open to the sky and bringing in the cold, snow, and wind, albeit not as fierce.
Looking up, I see the cabin on the hill.
“Oh, thank you, God!” Noah cries out behind me.
My heart leaps, and I close my eyes, smiling.
“Kaleb!” Noah shouts.
He runs, and I race after him, up the small hill and toward the cabin. I let my pack fall off me, and I drag it up onto the small porch.
Noah drops his, too, our rifles strapped to the packs and both of us kicking our snow-caked boots against the little house. “At least, I’m not going to die now,” he grumbles, “because if I’d gotten you killed, they would’ve killed me.”
I laugh, leaving my pack and throwing open the door.
“Kaleb!” I call, entering the house.
But even before I can get my bearings, my smile falls.
He’s not here.
Liquid heat pumps through my body, and I don’t think I breathe. Jake was right when he said this place wasn’t for me. It’s one room with a stove, a fireplace, and two beds. There are three windows, no other doors, and no bathroom. It’s a place to cook and sleep when they fish, nothing more.
The wet air permeates, and I look around, grasping onto anything to give me hope this wasn’t all for nothing.
“He’s not here,” Noah says, squeezing past me.
“Has he been, though?” I ask. “He could be out hunting.”
He walks to the stove, picking up a pot. From here, I can see the remnants of something inside it.
“It’s frozen.” He shakes his head. “He was here, I think. The dishes aren’t dusty, so they’ve been washed recently, but it’s been a couple days, at least.”
Walking over to the rumpled bed, I lift the sheet to my nose. The cold and the cabin are the only scents I find, though.