by Alana Terry
Buster was so large and the cabin so small Kennedy practically had to climb over him. Willow gave him one last hit in the back with the poker, enough to give the two girls the head start they’d need to escape.
Once outside, Kennedy stumbled in the snow. She looked up. Trees were swaying. Over the angry roar from the earth beneath her, she could hear tree trunks snapping as easily as if they were twigs.
“Watch out!” Willow dove at Kennedy and covered her body as a great spruce landed on the roof. Kennedy shrieked as the cabin folded in on itself like a house of collapsing cards.
“This way.”
Kennedy could hardly make out Willow’s words. She felt her pulse surging through her ears but could only hear the deafening roar. How long had it been going on already? The earth couldn’t sustain that kind of violence much longer. Every single tree would collapse before it was over.
Kennedy screamed again when the ground beneath her bulged up several feet, throwing her and Willow down. Kennedy landed with her stomach on a tree stump. Where was all the air? She couldn’t inhale. She was going to faint.
No, there it was. Her breath returned to her lungs in pitiful spasms. When would it end?
She’d been following Willow blindly but realized that they were running behind the cabin now. They were going the wrong way. She reached out to grab Willow’s hand, but the ground heaved and she fell again.
Willow yanked her to her feet. “Hurry.”
Kennedy looked over her shoulder. “The road’s back there.”
Willow shook her head and pointed. In the distance was another shed, even smaller than Roger’s. How had Willow known it was there, and why were they heading deeper into the woods?
A spruce tree that must have been twenty or thirty feet tall whipped down, its bare branches slapping her in the face. She tried to shield her eyes. They were almost to the shed. Willow surged ahead and threw the door open.
Kennedy recognized her immediately. The girl from the photos, the missing barista. What was she doing back here? How had Willow known? She was curled in the corner, shielding her face.
“Brandy, it’s ok. We’ve got to get you out of here.” Willow knelt down beside her.
“I can’t leave,” she answered in a panic. “He’ll find me.”
Willow was fumbling with something by her hands. Was Brandy cuffed to the wall?
“The man who trapped you is buried under his house. It collapsed on him. You don’t have any reason to be afraid anymore,” Willow said as the floor rolled like ocean waves during a storm.
“I can’t go. He’ll be too angry.”
“He’s dead,” Willow snapped. “Dead or close to it. And we will be too if we don’t find someplace safe. Now how do we get you free?”
With wide eyes, Brandy nodded toward the wall. Kennedy grabbed the key hanging by the door but had to try several times to get it into the lock.
The cuffs fell loose.
“We’ve got to get out of here,” Willow said. “This place will collapse any minute.”
“He’s going to find me,” Brandy protested.
“No, he’s not.”
The ground was still shaking, but the rolling heaves had stopped, and they could hear more than just the angry bellows of the earth. The cabin creaked and groaned.
“Come on.” Kennedy took Brandy by the hand, but she couldn’t pull her up.
“I can’t. I’m not ...”
When Kennedy bent down to slide her arm around her waist, she realized Brandy was pregnant. Very pregnant. She propped her up on one side, and Willow took the other.
“Can you walk?” Willow asked.
“I have to stay here,” Brandy insisted. “He’ll be angry.”
Willow and Kennedy led her toward the door. “Let’s go.”
Everything stopped in an instant. At first, Kennedy thought she might have blacked out. As fast as the noise came, it was now completely silent. She was dizzy from being tossed and heaved around like a bath toy in white water rapids, but now it was only her brain that thought she was still moving.
Still inside the cabin, she looked over at Willow. “Is it over?” she asked.
“Might be for now.” Willow led Brandy toward the door. “But we’re definitely not out of the woods yet.”
CHAPTER 11
AFTER WILLOW TOOK HER sweater off and wrapped it around Brandy’s shoulders, the rescued girl returned to her spot against the wall where she drew her legs up toward her pregnant belly and cowered. Willow led Kennedy to the opposite side of the cabin so they could talk about what they should do.
“I don’t see how those two drunk buffoons could have survived the cabin crashing in on them, but we can’t be too careful either. I’m not sure any of us are in a position to walk back to the highway in this cold, and we have to be prepared for aftershocks. It’s a miracle this little shack is still standing. I wouldn’t want to assume we’ll be so lucky next time.”
Next time? Kennedy wondered why she’d ever come to Alaska. Why hadn’t she listened to her dad? “What about the radio?” she asked. “Maybe we could try to signal for help.”
Willow paused. “It’s not a bad idea unless either Roger or his fat, smelly partner are awake and feeling vengeful.”
Kennedy thought back to the way the cabin had toppled in on itself when the tree fell on the roof. Had either Roger or Buster survived? Did they dare find out? “It may be worth trying.”
“You’re probably right. That radio might be our best shot. Even if we get to the highway, it’s not like there’s going to be a ton of traffic going in or out at this time of night. And if there were rock slides or anything along the Glenn, we could be totally cut off for weeks.”
Kennedy wouldn’t think about that right now. The biggest priority was to stay warm for the night.
And keep from starving.
“We can get some of the canned food, too,” she suggested.
Willow nodded then looked back at Brandy in her corner. “I don’t think she’s fit to go anywhere. Not right now. When the aftershocks come, we’ll have to get her out of the cabin though. At least in the open we’ll have a chance to dodge the trees if they fall. But if the cabin goes down ...” She left the thought unfinished.
Kennedy took in a deep breath. “You stay here. I’ll go back to see if I can dig out the radio and get some food. Anything else we might need?”
“Our coats, and blankets if you can find them. And batteries and flashlights. Who knows how long we’ll be stuck here?”
Kennedy knew the answer to that at least. One night. Exactly one night. A night that was nearly over. All they had to do was survive the cold for a few more hours, and then when the sun came up, they’d make their way with Brandy back to the Glenn Highway and find the help they needed.
One night. That’s all this nightmare was allowed to turn into. Just one night.
Willow took off her heeled boot. “You can’t go out in nothing but a sock.”
Kennedy had been so terrified during her run through the woods she hadn’t even noticed the way her toes were burning with cold. She slipped on Willow’s boot. There was something she still didn’t understand. “How did you know about this cabin back here anyway?”
“I noticed it in the moonlight when I stepped outside with Buster. That’s where Roger was coming from after he left the house. I’d already seen Brandy’s pictures in that box and figured that if she were still alive, this is where he’d be keeping her. And I knew Buster was a phony with that message about my goat. He’d never called my family. All right. Do you still have my phone? You can use it as a flashlight.” Willow frowned. “Or maybe we should go together.”
Kennedy glanced at Brandy. “I don’t think we better leave her alone. This is no big deal. I’ll just get a few things and come right back.” She forced confidence into her voice even though she felt none.
Willow reached out and wrapped her in a hug. “You be careful now, you hear? And if either of those men are still aliv
e ...” Her voice trailed off.
As Kennedy stepped out again into the now silent moonlight, she tried not to ask herself what it was that Willow had been about to say.
CHAPTER 12
THE NIGHT WAS NOW EERILY quiet. No breeze. No rustling of leaves. No indication that just minutes earlier, the entire woods had threatened to collapse in on itself like Roger’s rickety log cabin.
Kennedy knew where to go. She told herself that each time she second-guessed her footing and wondered if she was following the right trail. It felt like she and Willow had run a mile during the earthquake, but if Willow had spotted the cabin from Roger’s place, it couldn’t be nearly that far.
She wouldn’t get lost.
Shining Willow’s cellphone flashlight in one direction and then another, Kennedy thought back to all the wild animals that might live out here in the Alaskan wilderness. Polar bears weren’t this low beneath the arctic circle, were they? No, if this part of the state was known for its polar bears, Willow would have mentioned it sooner.
What about other kinds of bear, though? Hopefully anything out here would be deep in hibernation, but what creature could have slept through an earthquake like that? Kennedy was still dizzy, still trying to walk on shaky ground. It reminded her of the way she felt as a kid coming home after a full day at the waterslide park. She’d lie in bed, and her faulty proprioception would make her still feel like she was being tossed from side to side.
Faint moonlight shone on the debris from the cabin. Kennedy couldn’t tell if she was trembling from cold or fear.
Get in, find the radio, get out. That’s all she had to do. The radio, their coats, and a few cans of food. Hopefully something with a hint of nutrition. She could picture Willow starving before agreeing to taste spam.
After trying it earlier that night, Kennedy couldn’t blame her.
She held her breath as she stepped onto the first creaky log of what used to be Roger’s cabin. Half expecting his hand to reach out and grab her, she shined the flashlight all around, on the lookout for any sign of life. She wasn’t sure which she was more terrified to discover — that the men who had attacked her and Willow were alive or that they weren’t.
Beneath her, wood splintered loudly with each step she took. She scanned the debris. Where was the radio? She walked toward where she thought that shelf had been. What if the radio, their only connection to civilization, hadn’t survive the quake?
No, she wouldn’t panic. Not yet. It wasn’t like they were in some remote island in a developing nation. This was the United States, with FEMA and all those other organizations meant to assist in situations like this. And wasn’t the national guard involved too? Help would come. Kennedy would find their coats and the radio and anything else they’d need to make it through the night, and first thing tomorrow morning they’d be rescued.
They had to be.
CHAPTER 13
THERE. THANK GOD.
Buried beneath several cans of spam and layers of debris was the radio. Kennedy couldn’t believe it was still intact. By the time she pried it out of the wreckage, the tops of both her hands were bleeding. She wasn’t sure if that was from splinters in the wood or if her skin was just cracking away from the cold.
It didn’t matter. They had their radio, their lifeline to rescue.
After finding their coats, she gave a little half-hearted hunt for spare batteries but soon gave up. Her hands hurt so much she realized she couldn’t hold anything else in them anyway.
A bag. That’s what she needed. Or some kind of blanket to use as a knapsack she could sling over her shoulder.
How cold was it out here? Negative what? And how long could she survive in this kind of temperature?
No, she couldn’t be that pessimistic. She just had to keep moving. Keep moving and make it back to the little shed before her nose turned black and her fingers got frostbite. What if she needed her toes amputated?
Leave it to her overactive imagination to induce a major panic.
She wouldn’t think this way. Her anxiety was behind her now. It was ...
She dropped to her knees at the sound of the first roar. She heard it before she felt any movement beneath her. Not again ...
It’s just an aftershock, she told herself. Just an aftershock ...
She glanced up, hoping that if any trees decided to land here she’d be quick enough to move out of the way. Her limbs were rigid, nearly stiff with cold. She didn’t try to stand up or run when the earth began to shake. She would have to ride it out.
Just an aftershock ...
There. It was over. That wasn’t so bad. A person could get used to just about anything. Kennedy would get used to this too if she had to. But of course, this was only temporary. Just for the night. Maybe not even that long. Now that she had the radio, help was guaranteed.
Ok. She had her coat on. Before long, it’d start warming her up instead of stealing her body heat. She had the radio and some food. There was no way to carry everything, not with her hands balled up in her sleeves like they were. She shoved a few of the smaller cans into her pockets and figured she could come back for more if she really needed to.
Which she wouldn’t because first thing in the morning — or sooner — they were getting rescued.
As much as she loved her roommate, she vowed to never visit Alaska again.
She was mustering the energy to start the cold journey back to Willow and Brandy when the second aftershock hit. This one was more intense. The ground didn’t roll like it had in the initial quake, but it shook violently, like a dog thrashing its head from side to side while annihilating a chew toy.
The radio fell out of Kennedy’s hands into a pile of rubble. She fell to her knees, praying it hadn’t broken. The light caught on something. She screamed when she realized she was inches from Buster’s fat, blotchy face. She scrambled back as the aftershock died down. Catching her breath, she kept her distance but shined the light toward him, looking for any signs of breath or life.
Nothing.
She wouldn’t think about it. If she stopped to let reality sink in, she’d be too scared, too frozen to make it back to Willow and Brandy, who needed her. Brandy most of all. What had that poor thing lived through? And she was pregnant now. Kennedy didn’t know much about childbirth, but she certainly could tell the difference between a baby bump and a swollen abdomen the size of a beach ball.
She had to get up. Had to forget about what she was leaving behind and return to Brandy with the food and the radio.
One step at a time. That’s how she would get back. One faulty, unsteady step thanks to the uneven ground and Willow’s ridiculous heel. She just had to ignore the fact that her feet were as cold as Buster’s body beneath the rubble. Forget about the trauma she’d already endured. Survival meant pressing onward. There was no other way.
She just had to keep moving.
Couldn’t stop ...
Why did it feel like the walk back to the cabin was taking so much longer? It’s not like the radio was that heavy. The skin on the tops of her hands stung with cold and pain, but she wasn’t so much of a wimp that a few cuts and scratches could slow her down.
Why was she so sluggish?
She wanted to rest, but knew she had to go on. It was too hard to hold Willow’s cell phone while stumbling without exposing her hands to further cold, so she was relying on the light of the moon and nothing else. Maybe that’s why it felt even creepier now.
Spookier.
Like the calm before a storm.
The only problem was Kennedy didn’t know what disaster she was waiting for. Another aftershock? As long as they weren’t any worse than the previous two, she’d be fine. They were terrifying reminders of the trauma of that first quake, but nothing that would put her in serious physical danger.
So why was she so nervous? Because she’d been attacked earlier? Because of what might have happened if she and Willow hadn’t escaped those two drunk men? If that tree hadn’t toppled down on Ro
ger’s cabin and freed them?
Wait a minute. That was it. Kennedy stopped.
Looked behind her.
Strained her ears in the nighttime silence.
She’d dug thoroughly around the wreckage hunting for that radio. She’d found Buster’s body, but that was all.
So where was Roger?
CHAPTER 14
HER MIND WAS PLAYING tricks on her. That was it. Like kids who purposefully freak each other out telling ghost stories at summer camp until they can’t go to sleep all night. It was all in her imagination. She was doing this to herself.
The reason she didn’t find Roger was because he was buried so deeply in the debris. The reason he was buried so deeply was because he was a deplorable human being who had finally met God’s judgment. Simple as that. She had no reason to be afraid. He was a nightmare, and that was all.
He didn’t exist anymore.
Kennedy couldn’t see the shed in the moonlight, but she knew she must be getting close. Just a few more minutes, and she’d be inside. Together again with Willow and Brandy, and before long, this entire vacation would be nothing but a terrible memory.
Just like Roger was.
Something sounded behind her. She refused to look. Refused to give in to her childish fears.
There it was again. A footstep?
No. It was nothing more harmful than a squirrel. Did they have squirrels in Alaska? Whatever it was, it couldn’t hurt her. It wouldn’t ...
“Get back here, girl.”
Kennedy lunged ahead as if a few extra inches could save her from Roger’s grasp.
His fingers grazed the back of her coat, but he couldn’t hold on.
She surged forward, no longer aware of the cold but only of the burning in her lungs and the terror in her psyche.
A dream. A hallucination. She wished it were something that innocuous but knew from the pain as tree branches whipped across her face that she was stuck here in reality.
She had no other thought but to get to safety. Screaming now, as if the extra exertion could somehow lend her more energy.