The Darkest Winter

by Lindsey Pogue

  “I’ll get her,” Del said, more apprehensive than kind this time, and I didn’t blame him. With a final exhale he disappeared out the door.

  “Can I continue then?”

  “What?” I looked at Took.

  “I need you to look at me.” I did as he asked and followed a barrage of requests: look to the left and to the right; let me know if you feel nauseous or dizzy; take a deep breath. And when I winced, Took nodded and leaned back in his rickety old rocking chair. “It’s as I suspected.”

  “What is?”

  “You have a broken rib, and a strained arm by the look of it. I don’t think it’s broken. And you likely have a concussion.” I didn’t argue with him. My chest, my arm, my face and head . . . It all ached, and I knew he was right.

  But as I peered around the room, the walls felt like they were closing in around me. There was only one window, covered with a gray and black fur, the door was closed, and the cabin was the size of my room back in Slana. Light from the wood-burning stove flickered against the walls, and a candle burned in an old coffee tin on the table beside me. It was claustrophobic, and I felt caged.

  “I need air.”

  “You need rest. And for me to wrap your wrist [LL88]before you make it worse.” He looked practically glared at me and I felt my cheeks redden.

  “Now, can I fold your gloves down so I can finish with your wrist?” he asked, exasperated.

  “Uh, yeah. Sure.” With steady, wrinkled fingers, he folded the hem of the gloves down and wrapped a salve around my wrist. It felt mentholated and smelled of dirt.

  “What is that?” I asked.

  “Birch sap, to help with the swelling,” he said, wrapping a bandage around it.

  I wanted to believe these people were simply good, honest people who wanted to help me, but a whisper in the back of my mind kept saying, what if? “Thank you.”

  Took nodded but watched me with shrewd gray eyes. He was as leery of me as I was of him. I probably seemed psychotic after my outburst with the gloves. It was for his own good though, for all of theirs.

  “Can you tell me how long was I asleep?” My head was too muddled to tell.

  “Oh, a couple hours since we brought you in, I guess.” He poured me a copper cup of water and set it on the side table. “I’ll leave you alone to rest.” When he opened the door, daylight filtered in, then he closed it just as quickly.

  Leaning back, I took a deep breath and waited impatiently for the kids. I peered around at the small wood cabin, devoid of any frivolities. The only thing that hung on the wall was a realistic sketch of an owl.

  The room was like a furnace. The fire in the stove was blazing. There was a basket of cooking and eating utensils beside it. A walking stick propped up by the door and a hook with a patchwork leather jacket and snow boots discarded beneath it.

  The only other furniture was the small table with the candle and the cup of water, probably big enough for a book, and a trunk at the foot of the bed on a handmade pinewood frame I was lying on, draped with blankets of fur.

  I peeled a blanket off with a shaky arm. It was well insulated, I’d give them that, and the longer I laid there, listening to the roar of the fire, the heavier my eyelids became.

  The door creaked open, slowly at first and my eyes flew open. Sophie poked her head in, and when she saw me, she smiled and opened the door wider for Thea and Beau to come in.

  I exhaled every ounce of tension in my body at the sight of their smiling faces.

  “You’re awake!” Thea chirped, and she skipped over. She had a butterfly bandage on her left cheek.

  “You—” I winced, moving too quickly to sit up in bed.

  Sophie reached for Thea’s arm before she got too close. “Del said to be careful,” she reminded her. Thea stopped short of jumping up on the bed.

  “Oh, it’s okay. I’m just a little tired.” I smiled at them, overjoyed they only had scratches. I could’ve killed them. The scratches and bumps could’ve been so much worse.

  “It’s okay,” Sophie said, sitting on the edge of the cot. “We’re okay.”

  I looked at Beau and Thea, then at Sophie all looking at me with affection, and my eyes filled with tears. I covered my face and shook my head. How was it possible that things had gone from bad to worse in a matter of hours?

  “I can’t believe that happened,” I said, voice shaking. “I’m so glad you’re all right.”

  “Yeah, we’re fine, but the car’s screwed,” Beau said.

  Thea glared at him. “That’s a bad word.”

  Beau rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

  I laugh-sighed—almost cried with relief. If they were bickering, they must’ve been okay.

  “Jade is really nice. She’s making lunch and said we can stay here as long as we need to get the car situation figured out.”

  “You’re certain?” I asked Sophie. She was the only one of us who could know.

  She tilted her head and tucked her hair behind her hair. “Yes, I’m certain. So are Del and Took.”

  “Took is funny. He’s just like my grandpa,” Thea said. “He makes funny duck noises.”

  Beau rolled his eyes. “He doesn’t look like Grandpa. Grandpa isn’t Inuit.”

  “Yuh-haw!”

  “No, he’s not. You’re such a liar—”

  “Okay you guys,” Sophie interrupted. “Let’s let Elle get some rest, okay?

  “I can’t rest,” I said, wincing as I flung the covers back. “We need to figure out how we’ll get back on the road. Jackson and Alex—”

  “Elle, please. We’ll figure it out, but you can’t fix this right now. Not like this. You look like you‘re going to pass out.”

  My pain tolerance was high, but between my head and the fact it hurt to breathe, I knew she was probably right.

  “Alex and Jackson won’t be heading back until tomorrow anyway, they won’t know anything’s happened. You have time to rest. Okay?”

  Each breath was a sharp twinge, and I knew the pain meant one thing: I was useless for now, and I had to trust Sophie’s judgement. I nodded. “Okay. I’ll try.”

  Sophie stood up to leave.

  “Elle, they have a real bow and arrow,” Beau said excited. “Del said he might teach me to use it if you say it’s okay.”

  “Guys, come one,” Sophie ordered. “We’ll deal with that later. Elle needs to sleep.”

  “Okay,” Thea said. “We’ll bring you some soup when it’s ready.”

  “That would be great, thank you.” I had no appetite, but I welcomed any excuse for them to come back and reassure me they were okay.

  The kids turned on their heels, the knitted ball at the top of Thea’s beanie shaking with each step as they made their way to the door. Sophie turned back to look at me. “We’ll be back to check on you in a little while.”

  “Thank you,” I said, beyond grateful to have her. Then, the three of them were out the door, clicking it shut behind them.

  Nestling further into the blankets, I stared up at the birch wood ceiling as the light from the stove flickered across it. How long did a busted rib take to heal? With my luck, a long time. After I got sleep, I would walk back to the Expedition and get the satellite phone. I would call Jackson, they would find us, and we’d figure it out together.

  With that comforting thought, my eyelids drooped lower, and I fell back to sleep.

  Chapter 34

  Jackson

  The sun sank, the sky growing dark as we settled in for the final stretch back to Slana.

  “Jackson,” Alex said, he’d been quiet for the past couple hours.

  I looked at him.

  “Have you felt weird since the virus?”

  “I’m not sure what you mean, kid. Just about everything is weird these days.”

  He stared out the passenger window, like something was eating at him.

  “What’s on your mind, Alex?”

  He took a deep breath scratched his jaw. “I haven’t said anything because I didn
’t want Elle to freak out, but I think something’s wrong with me.”[LL89]

  I glowered. “What do you mean?”

  “Sometimes when I’m around Sophie, I feel strange things—”

  “Aren’t you old enough to know about boys and girls and—”

  “What? No. I mean, yes, I am. I’m not talking about sex.”

  I silently thanked mother nature that puberty hits way before you turn eighteen.

  “It’s a charge, like an indescribable feeling. I’ve had it around Elle too, a couple times. It’s different around both of them, but the same.”

  “A charge?” I switched the headlights on as the road grew darker in the failing light.

  He shook his head. “It’s fucking weird, like I said. It’s not all the time, but it makes me feel powerful and full of energy, like I need to do something with it.”

  “Like what?”

  “I don’t know,” he breathed. “I sound crazy.” The trees passed the window, dark shadows in the inky sky. “I think it’s why Elle runs all the time. I think she feels it to and I think that’s why she runs.” He leaned against the window. “Maybe I should run too,” he mused.

  “Alex, I’m not sure what—” I leaned forward, looking out at a large dark mass in the highway ahead.

  “What is that?”

  “It looks like a trailer and a—” Dread washed over me. “That’s the Expedition.” I sped up only to damn near slam on the brakes as we came up to the overturned Expedition and the trailer.

  “What happened?” Alex said jumping out of the truck.

  I grabbed my rifle and jumped out after him, running to the overturned car. Cold fear shot through me. A few boxes and bins scattered the ground; the snack box with Thea’s smiley face sticker was dumped all over the road.

  I went crouched next to Alex by the passenger seat window, but the Expedition was empty.

  “Where are they?” He jumped to his feet peering around.

  I ran around to the driver side. The door was open and drag marks overlapped footprints in the snow. “What they hell were they doing out here?” Alex practically shouted picking up a gas can from the ditch.

  My mind spun as I tried to understand. They’d packed everything and headed northwest. “They were going to Whitehorse?” I shook my head. “Something happened,” I told him. “Elle hitched up the trailer and left, there has to be a reason.” And now they were gone and there was traces of blood in the snow where I stood.

  “Elle!” I shouted, glancing around at the desolate highway and into the tree line. She could’ve dragged herself into hiding, or the kids . . . “Elle!”

  “Jackson,” Alex hissed from the front of the car.

  I looked down at the caribou tracks, there were several, and the pieces fell together. It was what happened after the accident that worried me.

  I spotted snowmobile tracks a few yards out, barely illuminated by the F-350’s headlights, and my gut twisted. “Alex, we have to find them,” I said low and calm. “Get your gun.”

  Chapter 35[LP90]

  Elle

  When I woke, it took a split-second to remember where I was, but the moment I tried to move, it all came back. The room was as it was before, only this time, my boots and snow coat were at the foot of the bed, along with my gun in my hip holster. There were clean clothes laid out, but they didn’t look like they were mine.

  I lifted myself up with my good arm, careful not to pull something and make the sharp pain in my side worse. Shoving my hand in my back pocket, I let out a breath of relief and pulled out my sister’s note. The sound of silence will set you free. In the silence there I’ll be[K91]. Even if I still didn’t understand the meaning behind her riddle, I’d taken comfort in the words every day since I’d found it. It was eerie to imagine her curled up on her couch writing it while death and illness loomed in the future; it was a future where the world was silent and all I had left of her were these words, making her more present in my life dead than she ever was alive. A chill shimmied down my spine and I exhaled the muddled fog from my mind.

  Painstakingly, I pulled my boots on over my socks, forgoing the laces since my wrist was still tight. Though Took had been right and sleep made my mind clearer and I rested, my chest was killing me. I winced with each movement and prayed bark salve wasn’t his only remedy.

  I clipped my gun in my hip holster, but stayed in my dirty clothes, torn sleeve and all. The sooner I could be functional again, the better, but clean clothes seemed too ambitious yet.

  Shrugging into my jacket, I eyed a large folded cloth on the side table. I had a sneaking suspicion my generous hosts didn’t have pain killers readily available, and I needed something for my rib if I would be even quasi-useful.

  I grabbed the cloth and made my way to the door, grateful my sprain and busted rib were on the same side so I was semi operational.

  The crisp evening air hit my face as I stepped outside, sending chills over my skin. I hadn’t realized how overheated I’d been cooped up inside, and it wasn’t because of my personal thermostat. Shockingly, the tingle in the tips of my fingers hadn’t returned since Slana, but I told myself it didn’t matter. I had plenty of problems to figure out without adding Sophie’s superpower conundrum to the mix.

  Using the porch rail, I lowered myself down to sit on the step as slowly as possible, careful not to make any sudden movements. I reached my good arm out and scooped up a handful of snow to wrap into an icepack. The idea had been well thought out in my head, but I could feel the sweat breaking out on my brow as I tried to fare the smarting pain.

  A dog yipped at the edge of the complex and I looked up to find I was being watched. A Husky sat on the roof of his doghouse, his head tilted to the left.

  “I’d like to see you try it,” I muttered, pressing the cold pack against my side. The dog’s head tilted to the right.

  With a ragged exhale, I peered up at the rising moon and waited as I caught my breath. The sky was dark, but the moon was nearly full, lighting the path between the two cabins, what looked like an outhouse behind them, and a couple weather-worn sheds. Pines and spruce trees sprinkled the perimeter of the property, probably an acre or so, but there were no fences to speak of. Out here there were no neighbors, which brought a mix of relief and trepidation.

  As I trudged my way to the other cabin, I passed piles of wood stacked against the sides of each cabin, protected by awnings that looked like they could use a little maintenance but they did the trick. A narrow, aluminum-sided structure was nestled between the two outbuildings, and I could imagine the racks of meat hanging inside.

  I’d heard of subsistence living, but I’d never met anyone who lived on the land the way these people did.

  I stopped at the porch. The Ranskins was cared over the cabin door. Pots and pans clanged inside, and the tittle-tattle of the kids filled the interior of the house. With a tummy full of butterflies, I lifted my hand, prepared to knock, but hesitated. Knocking seemed strange knowing the kids were inside. Slowly, I turned the handle and opened the door.

  Heat pressed against my face, dense in the confines of the house, and the savory scent of food filled my nostrils.

  “—mix it with potatoes. Everything is better with potatoes, they absorb so much flavor.” An older woman, probably in her fifties with white hair knotted at the back of her neck, stood beside Sophie. They stirred their respective pots at the two-burner wood stove. I glanced up at the darkened loft above, then at the table where Beau and Took sat tying knots into a thin rope.

  Thea noticed me first from her perch on the couch. “Elle!”

  Everyone looked over at me.

  “You’re awake,” Sophie said, and the older woman’s eyes opened wide.

  “Oh, dear me. I thought you were Del come back.” She laughed nervously and hurried over, wiping her hands off on the corner of her apron. “Elle, dear, it’s nice to officially meet you.” The smile in her eyes was warm and welcoming, and I tried not to stare at the vertical lines ta
ttooed down her chin. “I’m Jade, and this is my father, Took.”

  “We’ve met,” he grumbled.

  “Don’t mind him,” Jade said. “He’s harmless.”

  “Thank you, Jade. It’s nice to meet you.” I smiled to be polite, but I couldn’t help but wonder why they were being so kind. Either they hadn’t come across any crazy people or they simply didn’t care, and both were equally curious.

  “We’re having dinner,” Thea said from the couch. It was more of a loveseat, or maybe it was more like a futon, small and functional for a mid-size cabin.

  “You are?” I asked, my gaze sweeping the rest of the room. There were stacks of books beside the couch, snowshoes and walking sticks mounted on the walls. Baskets hang from hooks on the ceiling, using every space until the place was practically full. And then I realized six faces stared back at me.

  “It’s just about ready,” Jade said. “You must be starving. Why don’t you grab yourself a seat at the table there? My dad will help you—Dad, get Elle a chair, would you? Just move that laundry to the loft for now. I’ll worry about it later.”

  “Uh, thank you, Jade, very much, but we really should be on our way.”

  “Nonsense, where will you go? It’s dark and Del told me about the car. Besides,” she said, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “You still need rest and Sophie has made enough potato soup to feed an army.” Jade smiled, winking at Sophie, like they’d known each other for years.

  “You’ve already done so much, I don’t want to overstay our welcome. After dinner we’ll—”

  “Oh, it’s no trouble at all. The truth is, we don’t get visitors, and my son moved into town a couple years back.”

  “Okay,” I said dumbly. It was like I’d walked into the Wilderness Family and I was only a viewer.

  “Elle! Come see the new knot I’m learning.” I glanced at Beau. So much had happened in a matter of hours, it was overwhelming. The kids had settled into a foreign place with strangers we knew nothing about and they seemed like they were already a part of the family.