by Lydia Sharp
He glances over his shoulder at me, brows bunching together. “That sounds bad.”
“Only if you were planning on Kai going home in the morning.”
He turns his whole body this time. “Wasn’t that the plan, to try to convince him to turn around?”
“Yes,” I say. “But Kai refuses. And I’m not sure forcing him back home is the right answer.”
“Why?”
“Hunter …” How do I say this? Bluntly, I guess. “He thinks your dad is still alive.”
He doesn’t seem surprised by this, but that seems to be his default setting. I relay what Kai told me as well as I can remember it, and Hunter takes it all in silently.
“Gabi,” he says when I’m done, “I know you care about him and want to support him—I do, too—but we have to do what’s best for Kai, and that might not be what he thinks is best. We have to get him home. Get him help. Let a professional handle his issues.”
“But we’re already out here … Where are we now, anyway?”
Hunter tears through Kai’s pack until he finds a map, then he spreads it out on the floor and points at a large area labeled Alaska Interior just under a curving ridge of mountains labeled Alaska Range. Somehow, Kai has to get through that. Or maybe over that? An airplane would be so much easier and faster, but I don’t know if he’d agree to use one. Not far to the northwest is Denali National Park. And south is where we came from, Anchorage, with about as much distance left to go to get to Fairbanks, where the land flattens out before bunching into another group of mountains northeast of the city—the White Mountains—which Hunter says is Kai’s final destination.
“He’s come this far, and he’s fine. Why not just let him keep going to see if he’s right?”
“Because he’s wrong.” Hunter refolds the map and tucks it into the pack.
“I know that’s very likely. But what if he’s right?”
Hunter’s stoic expression cracks. “We had a funeral, Gabi.”
“You had a funeral with no body.”
He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s been a year.”
I sigh. I don’t know exactly what he’s feeling, but I do understand this isn’t easy for him. I keep my next words gentle. “What if he’s still alive—”
“Don’t,” he snaps, and his tone pitches. “Don’t feed that kind of hope in Kai. Or me.”
The sudden anger in his eyes nearly shatters my determination. “I’m sorry, but it’s too late. Kai already has that hope in spades. And I didn’t give it to him—I don’t even fully believe it myself. But we have to consider all the options.”
Hunter presses his lips together and turns away from me, shaking his head.
“All he wants is proof, and he’s not going to stop until he finds it. You said so yourself: Once he gets an idea in his head, he gets tunnel vision. We can find a way to force him to turn around and go home, but that won’t fix anything. And I know the chances are muy slim, but doesn’t he deserve—doesn’t your whole family deserve—to know if he’s right?”
He spins to face me again, but the vitriol has left him. Weakened him. “And what if he’s wrong? What if he gets there and finds proof that he’s wrong? There’s a chance of that, too.”
“A good chance of that, I know. But you said when the reality of your dad’s death hit you, it hit you hard. If that happens to Kai—and you’re so sure that it will—don’t you think we should be there for him?”
His shoulders drop on a sigh bigger than the mountains.
Whether Kai’s right or wrong, neither outcome is good. Either he’s right, his dad is alive and something bad has been preventing him from coming home. Or he’s wrong, and he’ll be crushed under his own grief. Either way, he’ll know the truth, whatever that truth is, and he’ll have to deal with it after that. And who better than us—his twin brother and his girlfriend—to be there with him when either of those happens? Anything less than our full support would be a cruel abandonment, knowing he’s going to get hurt.
“I don’t like this, but you’re right,” Hunter says. “We have to go with him.”
I start to smile, then realize what he said. We have to go with him. I realize too late that I said it, too. I started worrying about Kai more than anything else, and the plan—my own thoughts—got away from me. But it’s only right, I suppose.Hunter and I have been in this together since we discovered Kai was gone. So we should continue on together, finish it together.
This isn’t the same as driving a few hours to pick him up, though. This is … I don’t even know what it involves, that’s the problem. But before I can ask Hunter what I just argued myself into, the shelter door opens.
Kai and Vicki walk in, carrying their pieces of cut-up meat, and quickly shut the door behind them. In just those few seconds, enough snow blew in to lightly coat half the floor. “It’s really bad out there,” Vicki says. “I hope y’all have some good stories to pass the time, because we’re not going anywhere for a while … and I left my darts at the lodge.” She winks at Hunter, then sets her pile near the hearth and starts rummaging through Kai’s pack for cooking utensils.
Hunter is still standing next to me by the mattress, the final words of our conversation likely ringing through his head as they are through mine. We have to go with him.
How?
Kai sets his lump of slimy rabbit parts next to Vicki’s and adds more kindling to the fire. The flames lick higher, and the bigger logs are starting to catch.
“I was going to do that,” Hunter says.
“But you didn’t,” Kai shoots back.
Hunter skulks across the room and nudges Kai out of the way so he can take over. “I got this,” Hunter says. “Take care of the food.”
Vicki eyes them for a moment, then pulls a handful of salt and pepper packets out of a side pocket of Kai’s rucksack, trying to act like nothing is out of the ordinary when the air feels like it’s crackling. Just like that night in their kitchen a couple of weeks ago. Something is definitely up between Kai and Hunter. I’ve often seen them helping out in their house side by side, but it’s rare that I see them working together.
It’s getting warm in here, finally, warm enough to take off my coat and these cumbersome snowpants. I unzip for miles and shed my bulky second skin. Hunter and Kai do the same, and Vicki removes her full snowsuit. If it gets too cold overnight, I suppose our coats could pass for extra blankets. This isn’t ideal, but it also isn’t horrible. We’re protected from the elements.
Everyone is quiet now. Kai sits next to me on the mattress and runs his palm up and down my back, like he can sense I’m nervous about something. Vicki adds the raw meat to her heated skillet and the sizzle makes me flinch.
“You okay?” Kai says.
“Yeah, I … just, um … I mean we … We need to talk to you about something.”
Hunter casts a worried look at me, and Kai notices the exchange before Hunter turns back to the fire.
“Okay, you guys are scaring me.” Kai’s tone is teasing. His natural instinct is to be optimistic and give us the benefit of the doubt, but I think there’s some truth to his words. “What’s going on?”
Maybe it would be better if I just spat this out. “We want to go with you. The rest of the way from here. Both of us. Me and Hunter. If … that’s okay?”
The fire crackles and pops in the silence that follows, and the surprisingly mouthwatering scent of rabbit is suddenly overpowering. My stomach is about to declare mutiny if it doesn’t get fed soon. I’m not used to going this long between meals.
“It means a lot to me that you’re offering,” Kai says, bringing my attention back to where it belongs, “but I don’t need help.”
“I know you don’t need help. We want to help. Right, Hunter?”
“Yep.” Hunter keeps his eyes on the fire, poking the logs around with a stick. Somehow that makes the fire bigger. “You think we came all this way just to say hi?”
“No. I thought you came all this way to tell me t
o go home.”
“We did,” I admit. “Originally.”
Hunter tosses a look over his shoulder at me like, Why would you tell him that?
Because I can’t not be totally honest. Not after I saw dishonesty destroy my family.
“We also wanted to make sure you were all right,” I add, “and we wouldn’t feel right about letting you go by yourself.”
“Why? I’m fine.”
“You’re fine now,” Hunter says, not turning away from the fire. “What about later? The hardest part is still ahead of you—the mountains.”
“So you do know where I’m going,” Kai says to Hunter’s back. “I knew you’d figure it out, but I assumed you wouldn’t come because I didn’t think you’d agree with it.”
“Yeah. I know where you’re going, and I know why.” Hunter finally turns to face him. “And you’re right, I don’t agree with it.”
“But you want to come along?” Kai says.
“That’s what I just said, isn’t it?” Hunter busies himself trying to find something in Kai’s pack. “You got any plates in here?”
“Why?”
“So we can eat,” Hunter says. “We’re all hungry.”
Kai blows out a breath. “You know that’s not what I meant.” He joins Hunter on the floor, unzips a side compartment of his rucksack, and pulls out a couple of plastic plates. “We’ll have to share. And this is how it’ll be the whole trip, if you two come along. More people means more work. More food to gather. More chances of something going wrong.” He shakes his head. “This is a bad idea. I’ve still got a long way to go and only enough supplies for one person.”
“We’ll pass towns on the way, right?” I say.
Kai nods.
“Then we can get more supplies.” Maybe this isn’t such a bad idea. We’re in Alaska, not on the moon. Hunter and Kai both know how to survive out here, and I can buy whatever we need. I push up off the mattress, kneel beside Kai, and take his hand. “We don’t think you’re helpless without us. But now that we’re all together, do you really want us to leave? Would you really rather be alone?”
“No,” he concedes. “But what I’m doing isn’t a stroll on the beach.”
“Okay.” I square my shoulders, ready to take this on. “What is it, then?”
“An extreme hike,” Hunter cuts in. “It’s what we encountered today, except colder, windier, and the hardest cardio workout you’ll ever have.” He shrugs. “As long as we have food and shelter and fire, and stay away from predators, we’ll be fine.”
“Doesn’t sound too bad,” I say. But I know he’s downplaying it. He has to be. Ten minutes ago, he was totally against this. He had me fooled before I got to know him; that casual-shrug act of his is worthy of an Oscar. “What about … bathing?”
Kai shakes his head. “We spot clean with a rag.”
“I can’t wash my hair?”
“Wet hair at these temperatures is too risky,” Hunter says. “Especially with how much you have. That’s just asking to get hypothermia.”
I keep my face neutral, but inside I’m dying a little. I have long, thick hair. It’s never not been washed and conditioned regularly, and even then, it can be a chore to manage sometimes.
“Hunter,” Kai says, “I need you to be very, very clear.”
He smirks. “Like you were before you left?”
“I guess I deserve that.” Kai blows out a breath. “Just tell me you’re okay with this, with seeing Dad again after believing he’s been dead.”
Vicki lets out a little gasp. I forgot she doesn’t know what’s really going on here.
“I’m okay with that,” Hunter says, but his face is hard. “I know we didn’t get along very well, but what kind of person would I be if I didn’t want him to be alive? Did you ever think that maybe I want to find him, too?”
“No, I … Sorry. I didn’t think that at all. I’m okay with you coming—I am. I just didn’t think you’d want to.”
“Well, maybe you should have asked.” Hunter goes back to the fire. If he said all that just so Kai would let him go along, the boy really could have a career in Hollywood. If he was speaking from the heart, though, Hunter is just as messed up as Kai is over all of this.
Kai nods, then turns to me. “What about you, Gabi? Are you sure?”
“This is important to you, so it’s important to me, too. Like I said, I’m with you on this, one hundred percent.” And I’m not my mother. I won’t back down from a commitment just because circumstances changed and things got harder to deal with.
He smiles, briefly. “The Fairbanks area is still a long way off, and this might not be the only bad weather that hits, and once we get into the mountains …” He sighs. “If we weren’t walking the whole way there first, it actually wouldn’t be that bad. We wouldn’t be completely spent by the time we got to the hard inclines.”
I dare to hope—does he mean we don’t have to walk, that he’d be willing to go another way? “Isn’t that the point of the journey, though, going by foot? To connect with the land or whatever? Wouldn’t a car or a plane be against the ‘no modern conveniences’ rule?”
Kai shoots a hard look at Hunter.
Don’t get mad at him, I want to say. He told me because you didn’t. But I hold my tongue this time. We need to stay on point, come up with a plan. Not be at one another’s throats.
Vicki breaks the short silence. “I’m not sayin’ you two aren’t, like, living my ideal version of a relationship with how supportive y’all are of each other, but … are you crazy? I don’t mean certifiable crazy, I just mean—what in blazes are you thinking?”
Hunter doesn’t turn away from the fire and doesn’t make a sound, but his shoulders shake like he’s suppressing a laugh.
Vicki goes on, oblivious. “Fairbanks is a whole lotta walking from here. Through snow, and where there isn’t snow, there’s sure to be mud. Like, serious mud. The kind that will suck your boots right off.”
“Dad went by foot,” Kai says, “but I’m not doing this to cleanse my mind, like he always did. Well, actually, I was doing that, at first. And it’s been nice walking in his footsteps the last few days—literally—but then I remembered it isn’t really my main goal. Right now I just want to find him, and his last known location was at his cabin. If I could take a car or a plane to get up there faster, I would. But I don’t have a car, and I can’t afford to charter a plane.” He avoids eye contact with me after saying that last part. He knows I’ll pay for it if given the chance, and for some reason, that’s a cardinal sin.
“Oh, well, if you need a plane, I can help you with that,” Vicki says. She pokes a piece of meat with a fork and juice runs onto the skillet, sizzling and smoking.
I hadn’t thought of how she’d factor into all this. Here we are making plans without her, and she’s the one who helped us get this far in the first place. She can help. Of course she can. She already has.
“I don’t remember passing any airports,” I say.
“Not that kind of plane.” Vicki laughs. “Sorry. I’m not laughing at you. I just keep forgetting you’re still new to this place. I meant a bush plane. They’re small, so they can go places bigger planes can’t. I know a pilot, Jack Randy, who lives not far from here. He’ll take you anywhere for the right price.”
“Money isn’t an issue.”
“Yes, it is,” Kai says.
“Only because you don’t have any,” Hunter cuts in. “Gabi has plenty, and if she wants to take a bush plane, it’ll cost her the same whether we go along for the ride or not. So we might as well go along for the ride.”
Kai practically snorts out steam. But he doesn’t refute Hunter’s logic.
“Okay,” I say, glancing back and forth between them. “So we’re good, then? Vicki takes us to the pilot, he takes us to the mountains by Fairbanks, and Vicki—Oh, shoot. Vicki, how are you going to get both of your snowmobiles back home? You need another driver.”
She pulls the skillet away from the
fire and starts dividing the meat up evenly onto two plates. “My brother Jimmy can swing by Jack’s to pick it up with his truck. No biggie.”
“I thought his name was Johnny.”
“I have more than one brother. No sisters, though. I always wondered what it would be like to have a sister.” She holds a plate out to Kai and Hunter, then gestures for me to come share one with her. “Sorry if it’s a little bland. I didn’t have much to work with.”
We dig into the meat all at once, not bothering to let it cool first, and I notice Kai is just as ravenous as the rest of us. “When was the last time you ate?” I ask.
“Last night,” he says, like eating once a day is no big deal. “I didn’t get any kills this morning, and didn’t get a chance to hunt again until the storm broke. Last resort, I was going to go fishing, but I’ve had nothing but fish since I left. I wanted something different today. Fish is good, but it doesn’t really fill you up, you know?”
Hunter swallows the bite he just took and then scoots away from Kai, adds another log to the fire.
“You done?” Kai says.
“Yeah, I had a big lunch. You can have the rest.”
Hunter may have eaten a big lunch, but he’s also a big guy, the largest person here. He needs this food just as much as we do. Stubbornness seems to be part of the Locklear code, though, and I believe Hunter would sooner starve himself than let his brother go hungry.
So, this trip with them together should be interesting.
The next bite burns my mouth. It’s delicious, though, and worth the blister. The best wild rabbit I’ve ever had. Okay, the only wild rabbit I’ve ever had, but still.
“Vicki, you should be working in the kitchen of the Grinning Bear,” Kai says, “not the dining room. This is amazing.”
“Naw, I didn’t do nothin’ special. Just a pinch of salt and a dash of love.”
She’s entirely too modest.
The wind howls outside, like a lone wolf searching for its pack, rattling the walls of the shelter. I huddle closer to the fire and Kai pulls a rolled blanket out of his rucksack. He opens it up, wraps it around my shoulders. “I’m going to get some more wood, before it gets dark.”