Secluded

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by Alana Terry


  The question had reverberated in the back of her head all semester. Unfortunately, it was a decision she couldn’t postpone indefinitely. By summer at the latest, she’d have to decide. It wasn’t like her to be without a solid, definitive course of action. As much as she trusted God’s guidance, she needed a plan, a plan that preferably laid out the next five to ten years in a neat, tidy package.

  As for Ian ...

  “You can start that conversation any time, you know.”

  Kennedy snapped back to the present. “What were we talking about?”

  “That’s what you were supposed to decide, remember?”

  “Oh, yeah. Umm ...” Kennedy stared at the snowflakes illuminated in Willow’s headlights. “Let’s see ... Is everything ready for the big day?”

  Willow laughed. “I’m going to be so sick of planning weddings when this is all over. I can guarantee you that. Sandy called me a few nights ago to see how things were coming along. It was really sweet of her. I joked and told her if I’d known how stressful it was to plan even a simple wedding like ours, Nick and I would have eloped months ago. But she reminded me how special it is to be engaged, and something about that gave me more perspective, I guess. I mean, every single day that we have to keep ourselves pure is a new adventure in self-control, but here we are, and in two days we’ll be husband and wife, so it’s not like waiting was the end of the world.

  “Oh, speaking of the end of the world, that was another question I wanted to ask you. The mark of the beast. Is the number 666 some really crazy dangerous thing like some people say? I mean, I saw it mentioned there in Revelations and they talked about it a lot in that movie, but I wasn’t sure if it was the number itself that was so evil or if it’s more symbolic or whatnot.”

  Kennedy wished she could transport herself through time and space and end up at the Winters’ homestead in Copper Lake, hopefully beneath ten or twelve quilts. “I don’t know.”

  Willow glanced over at her, clearly expecting more.

  “I don’t know,” she repeated. “I seriously have no idea.”

  Willow frowned and finally shrugged. “Fair enough.” She sighed. “I kind of want to call Nick and see how he’s doing, but we won’t have cell coverage for quite a while.” She pointed at the time. “Hey, look. We made it to midnight.” She cracked a huge grin. “Happy solstice.”

  Kennedy wasn’t sure if the greeting was an Alaskan tradition or something her roommate came up with. “You too,” she replied tentatively.

  Willow let out a carefree laugh. “Looks like the end-of-the-worlders were wrong again. I’m still here. Are you?”

  “Yeah.” Kennedy tried to sound amused, but she was still thinking about how worried her dad had been about her traveling to Alaska in the first place.

  Willow started to hum under her breath, and Kennedy chuckled when she recognized the tune.

  “Don’t tease me,” Willow protested. “Can’t I be excited without you making fun of me?”

  Kennedy giggled. It felt nice to stop focusing on Alaskan crises and apocalyptic predictions and bizarre meteorological phenomena. Willow was getting married in two days, and Kennedy was going to toss aside her worries long enough to give her roommate the celebration she deserved.

  Willow increased her volume, and Kennedy started singing with her.

  Because we’re going to the chapel ...

  Before long, they were both belting as loudly as they could, making up in enthusiasm what they lacked in musical ability.

  And we’re gonna get married.

  Their singing was terrible, but the stress of the day coupled with her exhaustion made it seem that much funnier. Kennedy couldn’t hold in her laugh.

  That’s when she heard Willow scream.

  Saw the massive animal directly in front of them.

  Felt the seatbelt yank against her chest as the car plowed into a moose.

  CHAPTER 2

  3:48 pm, seven hours earlier

  FOR ALASKA’S BIGGEST city, Anchorage looked tiny from this high up. Kennedy leaned toward the window of the plane. A full day of traveling, and she was ready to be on land.

  Her junior year of college was whizzing by. Wasn’t it only a few months ago she’d flown into Boston for the first time, a scared little eighteen-year-old girl who could have never been prepared for all the excitement, adventure, heartache and growth she was about to experience at Harvard?

  Her course load was easier now than it had ever been, especially after losing her job as a teaching assistant. She devoted her extra free time to volunteering for the afterschool club for students at Medford Academy, trying to get more involved at St. Margaret’s Church, and daydreaming with Willow about her wedding.

  She couldn’t believe how fast the big day was approaching. She thought about the phone call she’d had with her dad this morning while she waited for her first flight to take off from Logan Airport.

  “You still think it’s going to be safe over there, Kensie girl?” he asked.

  Kennedy was certain that even from China he could see her roll her eyes. “It’s going to be fine. They’ve been talking about this volcano for weeks now. It’s not that big of a deal. And it’s nowhere near Copper Lake.”

  “No,” he replied, “but it’s near Anchorage. When that mountain blows, the ash will cover the city in an hour, two at most.”

  “It’s just a little dust, Dad.” What did he think? That a volcano a hundred miles away would rain lava down on them?

  “It’s dust that’s going to clog up car engines, ground planes, and potentially cause a major panic. Anchorage isn’t Yanji or Boston, but it’s still a big city, Kensie girl. And worst case scenario, if something does happen there, even if you’re with the Winters already, that means no food trucks, no supplies being brought into the rural areas.”

  “I can’t miss Willow’s wedding.”

  He sighed. “Well, I won’t tell you what to do, but if you go, you’ve got to be extra careful. Like I said, if that volcano blows, you need to get out of Anchorage right away. Promise me that much, at least.”

  “Yeah, I promise.”

  “Good. So your plane lands around four, and then you’re driving with Willow to her home?”

  Now it was Kennedy’s turn to let out a massive sigh. Did her dad expect her to recite every single calorie she planned on eating in Alaska too? “We’re spending the night in Anchorage. It’s already going to be dark by the time I land, and Willow has some shopping to do in town anyway.”

  “I don’t like that plan,” her dad announced, as if that simple statement should be enough to change her mind.

  “I already told you, if the volcano erupts, we’ll get on the road before the ash falls.”

  “What if you’re asleep?” he demanded.

  Then I’m sure you’ll find a way to call or text or wake me up, she thought to herself but instead just answered, “We’ll be fine.”

  “It’s not only the volcano I’m worried about, you know. Those winter solstice guys, they’re all convinced that the end of the world’s going to start tomorrow.”

  “They’re just a bunch of weirdos,” Kennedy protested. Her dad might be paranoid, but he certainly wasn’t so removed from reality that he gave credence to their ideas, did he?

  “I know that, and you know that, but what about all the people they’ve got so freaked out? What’s going to happen when that volcano erupts and these internet junkies use it to fuel all the fear and chaos they’ve been creating? I just don’t want to see you in harm’s way.”

  “Yeah, ok.” What else was there she could say?

  “Yeah ok what?” he asked.

  “I’ll be careful.”

  “That’s all I can ask,” he replied with an air of defeat.

  CHAPTER 3

  Past midnight, Winter Solstice

  “YOU ALL RIGHT IN THERE? Hey, you all right?”

  Cold. Kennedy had never been so cold in her life.

  “You ok?” There was a pounding
on the car window, a flashlight beam blinding her eyes.

  She reached her hand to the side and croaked weakly, “Willow?”

  “I’m here.”

  A small breath of warmth when her fingertips brushed her roommate’s shoulder.

  “We’re ok?” Kennedy asked.

  “Yeah, we’re ok. We hit a moose.”

  “I know. I saw it.”

  “Me, too. Just too late.”

  More tapping on the window. “Can you hear me? Do you need help?”

  “Someone’s here,” Kennedy announced. Feeling was returning to her limbs. Limbs that ached as if frost had seeped into each individual nerve bundle. How long had she and Willow been lying here? She tried her door and did her best to rouse up her energy. There was a fierce pain in her neck and shoulder, but she didn’t think anything was broken. Her leg was pinned beneath the crumpled dashboard, but it didn’t hurt. Just felt cold.

  Terribly cold.

  “Unlock the door!” The shout was muffled. He had to repeat himself several times before Kennedy fully understood.

  She undid the locks, and the man opened the driver’s side. The cold burst in through the open door and settled in her bone marrow.

  “You hurt?” He shined his flashlight into the car, studying both girls’ faces, then checked the backseat. “Just the two of you? Are you all right?”

  “My leg’s stuck,” Kennedy told him.

  “What about you?” He turned to Willow.

  “Yeah. I’m ok. Just a little ...” She shook her head slightly. “Dude.”

  “You black out?” he asked. “How long you been here?”

  Willow looked at Kennedy, who had no answer to give.

  “It’s ok,” the man said. “Listen, there’s no reception here, but I live about six miles out. I can give you a ride to my place and we can get you warmed up. Don’t want to take the time to call for help and wait for the ambulance to come if we don’t got to. It’s minus twenty-eight last I checked. Nothing broken that you can tell?”

  Willow had already adjusted herself loose while he was talking. Kennedy tried to do the same, but her boot was still pinned.

  “Here.” The man handed her the flashlight, reached across Willow, and tried to set her free. After a minute of struggling, Kennedy finally had to slip her foot out of its boot and edge her leg loose that way. “You’ll be cold, but at least my truck’s heated. It’s the best we can do. Want me to carry you, or do you think you can hop?”

  Kennedy tried to wiggle her toes. How long did she have before she had to worry about frostbite? She didn’t even know how much time had passed since the crash. Two minutes? Twenty?

  When she was outside the car, she could see the damage. The entire hood was collapsed in on itself.

  “I think you’re far enough to the side of the road that we don’t have to worry, but I’ve got a few flares I’ll set out just in case. I’m Roger, by the way.”

  With Willow supporting her on one side, Kennedy hopped toward his truck. She turned around to get one last glimpse at the damage, but Willow grabbed her more tightly. “Don’t look back there. It’s not pretty.”

  Kennedy, still somewhat dazed, soon realized that Willow had been talking about the moose and not the car.

  “Told you not to look,” Willow said.

  Kennedy shivered.

  Roger’s truck was just a small two-seater, so the two girls squished together, trying to conserve heat. “Here, bend your leg so I can sit on your foot.” Willow’s suggestion sounded odd, but soon Kennedy could feel the painful throbbing of her pulse in her toes. At least her blood was flowing again.

  Willow wrapped both arms around Kennedy. “You ok? You’re shaking.”

  Kennedy nodded, but her teeth were chattering so hard it was difficult to speak.

  “All right.” Roger hopped into the driver’s side with an authoritative air. “My cabin’s up this way. Hold on tight. It’s a bumpy road.”

  Calling the path through the woods a road was quite an embellishment, as Kennedy was reminded each time they bounced over whatever boulders or tree roots or potholes lay underneath the snow. She was grateful for Willow’s warmth next to her, thankful that the only pain she felt was in her joints, her neck, and her throbbing foot. Relief coursed through her, but she still couldn’t stop shivering.

  “It’s all right,” Willow whispered in her ear. “We’ll be there soon.”

  “Yup,” Roger confirmed. “Cabin’s just up this way.”

  Declaring Roger’s shelter a cabin, at least in Kennedy’s opinion, was even more euphemistic. Willow, who apparently had seen plenty of hand-built lodgings that were hardly bigger than a bathroom stall, seemed quite at home.

  “Sorry, ladies. I’m off the grid here,” Roger explained as he shined the flashlight into the dark room. “Give me a few minutes to get the generator running.”

  “Right on.” Willow nodded as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about a bearded man who lived miles off the highway without electricity or running water or even an indoor bathroom.

  While Roger stepped out, Willow seated Kennedy on a wide stump in the middle of the room and knelt in front of her. She rubbed her socked foot until the friction made it burn and asked, “You doing all right?”

  Kennedy nodded, convinced that normal people didn’t live out here in the middle of the wilderness with nothing but a few stacked logs and a wood stove protecting them from the negative thirty- or forty-degree temperatures that were common to Alaskan winters.

  “We’re going to be all right,” Willow told her. “The most important thing is to get you warmed up.”

  No, the most important thing was to call someone they knew and tell them where they were. She looked around the small room. “Think he’s got a phone?”

  “There’s no reception out here.” Willow was still rubbing her foot vigorously.

  “I know, but we need to let someone know where we are. We can’t spend the night here without cell coverage or electricity or anything.”

  If the thought that they were trapped in a cabin with a complete stranger bothered Willow, she didn’t show it. “He’s got a generator.”

  Willow could have said he had a thermonuclear reactor for all the difference it made. What did Kennedy know about generators? What did she know about surviving with nothing but a wood stove in the middle of the Arctic? She glanced at a pile of blankets on the floor. That couldn’t be his bed, could it? He’d freeze right to the ground. There was a shelf in the corner with some canned goods, mostly spam and corn and hash. Not even enough to last a week. Who was Roger and what was he doing living way out here in the middle of nowhere? Off the grid? What did that even mean? Was he hiding from the government? Maybe he was a fugitive. They should have never gotten in the truck with him, especially in a no-coverage zone.

  Roger stepped back into the cabin, and Kennedy studied him as earnestly as she’d prepared for the MCATs. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for exactly, bloodstains on his flannel shirt, fangs instead of yellow teeth, something sinister behind the bushy, tangled beard that would make Nick’s dreadlocks look well-groomed in comparison.

  “Got the power up and running,” he announced.

  At this proclamation, Kennedy expected Roger to flip on a light switch, but after checking each wall, she realized there were none. She glanced over at Willow, hoping to steal a pinch of her roommate’s calm.

  Roger adjusted some dials on a small box tucked away in the corner. Kennedy tried to guess his age. Thirty-five? Sixty? There was no way to know with his entire face covered by that ridiculous beard. It was so ratted she couldn’t tell if it was more gray or brown. He wasn’t young or old, skinny or overweight, the kind of person she might have walked past in the airport or movie theater and never noticed. There was nothing to learn about him from his clothing either. Flannel and jeans in Alaska were about as common as premed students in the Harvard library.

  Roger pushed a button, and Kennedy flinched at the sou
nd. She hoped he hadn’t noticed, but he straightened up and stared hard at her. “Space heater,” he explained. “Nothing to worry about.”

  Great. Nothing to worry about. Isn’t that about like a sleazy salesman crooning you can trust me?

  Kennedy tried to dissolve her fears in the warmth from Roger’s small heating unit. At least her foot felt better now, thanks to Willow’s vigorous massage.

  “Where you girls from?”

  “We came in from Anchorage,” Willow answered while Kennedy tried sending out telepathic messages to her roommate to keep her mouth shut. Maybe it was her dad and all his paranoia, or maybe she just couldn’t trust a man who actually chose to live out here in the middle of winter in nothing but a hundred-square-foot shack, but she certainly didn’t want to give Roger any more information than was absolutely vital. “My parents live out in Copper Lake,” Willow added, “just past Glennallen.”

  So much for discretion.

  Roger nodded. “Pretty place.”

  “Oh, I know. It’s gorgeous. I’m getting married there the day after tomorrow.” She sighed. “Actually, technically it’s tomorrow already. Nick’s going to be really worried about us. Frankenstein. I wish I could get a hold of him.”

  If Roger was surprised by her odd choice in exclamations, he didn’t show it. “I took a look at that car of yours. Totally busted.”

  Kennedy waited for the part when he offered to drive them out toward Glennallen, but all he did was stare.

  “You got any way to get in touch with my family?” Willow wound a strand of hair around her finger. “They’re going to be wicked worried. You heard what happened earlier, didn’t you?”

 

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