Winter Cove

by Skye Knizley

  His voice sounded filtered and electronic.

  River held her pistol behind her thigh, hoping in the gloom it wouldn’t be visible. “My name is River, this is my friend Richard. Who are you?”

  The second man looked at the first. “Sir, there is no one named River on the roster.”

  He sounded exactly like the first man.

  Number one gave a curt nod. “Security protocol is clear. Detain if possible, destroy if necessary. You are coming with us!”

  “Who are you?” River asked again.

  “Identification is unnecessary. Come with us or we will use force!” Number two said.

  River shook her head. “You’re not cops and I don’t recognize your uniforms. My friend is hurt, I’m not going anywhere.”

  Number one glanced at Richard. “His death is imminent, his body will be burned like the others.”

  River had never moved so fast in her life. She raised her pistol and shot the first man cleanly through the center of his visor. His body was falling when her second shot hit number two in the chest. He sagged slowly to the ground atop the first one and she holstered her weapon.

  “Can you stand?” she asked.

  Richard nodded. “If it keeps these guys from roasting me over an open fire, I’ll run a marathon.”

  River helped him up, grabbed her pack and started back down the corridor to the exit. It was slow going, Richard was weak from the injury and blood loss. Step by step the proceeded down the aisle until Richard stopped for a breath in the main compartment.

  “I’m not sure I can do this, Riv,” he gasped.

  River mopped his brow with her sleeve. “You can, and you will. It isn’t that far, maybe I can get that old truck running or something.”

  Richard started to laugh, than clutched at his gut. “That’s you, little miss positive.”

  River smiled. “Damn right. Come on, that’s enough rest.”

  She ducked under his arm and continued toward the ragged hole in the fuselage. It was within sight when River spotted movement in the forest beyond. Flashlights, coming closer, searching the snow. Richard saw them too, and met her eyes.

  “You should go, I’ll hide,” he whispered.

  “No damn way,” River said with a shake of her head.

  “Dammit, Riv! I’m not one of your Marines, I’m slowing you down and if we’re both dead there will be no one to warn the others,” Richard said.

  He sagged into one of the seats. “Listen, I saw the dead guy in the truck, and I saw these guys. They were searching the area, when I approached, they shot at me. I ran and managed to hide in here. If they find the others…”

  River bit her lip. The flashlights were growing closer, and she knew from the pattern it wasn’t Dusty or the others. If Richard was right, it was more of the strange security force, probably attracted to the noise of her weapon.

  She looked back at Richard. “Leaving you here is a death sentence, Dusty will never forgive me.”

  She reached for him, but he pulled his arm away.

  “I can barely stand and you can’t fight and hold me up. The best thing you can do is get out of here and find help, then come back for me,” he said.

  Below, three of the uniformed men entered the fuselage. As before, they were armed with MP7’s. Their tactical lights glowed red as they searched for the source of the gunshots. The men were so close River could hear them muttering on their radios, calling out to the ones she’d killed in the same odd electronic voice.

  River drew her knife, glanced at Richard and slipped into the shadows between the seats, using the gloom as cover to hide her movements. A few beats later, the lead man walked past her. He had snow caked with blood on his boots, as if he’d walked through a stream of gore. River found herself staring at the runoff, a trail of red that ran down the edge of the carpet and vanished below. In that moment she found herself again in the valley, pinned beneath an Oshkosh tactical vehicle. Blood from Sergeant MacKenna dripped on her face and stung her eyes. She felt the panic rising as she struggled to breathe, struggled to free herself and choked on acrid smoke as the rest of her team burned to death not ten feet from her.

  River closed her eyes and forced the memory away. When she could breathe again she opened her eyes and thanked whatever deity was smiling on her that none of three men had noticed her. When the last man had passed, she stood and wrapped her arm around his neck. He barely had time to gasp before her blade passed through the back of his skull and ended his life. She lowered him to the ground and retrieved his MP7.

  Behind her, she heard the strange electronic voice. He’d found Richard.

  “You! Show me your hands!”

  Richard coughed and spat. “Easy, you already shot me once, I’ll come quietly.”

  “You are unarmed, who fired those shots?” the man asked.

  River moved behind the second one. “I did.”

  She squeezed the MP7’s trigger. It was lighter than the M16s and M4s she was used to, but no less lethal. The man in front of her jerked and spun like a top then fell with half a dozen holes in his torso. The first one turned with almost preternatural speed, but River was already turning her weapon on him. His burst went wide, hers caught him in the chest and neck. He dropped his weapon and fell slowly to his knees before pitching forward onto his face.

  Richard wiped his mouth, which looked dry. “I thought you were getting the hell out of here.”

  “I thought I told you I wasn’t leaving you behind,” River replied.

  She tossed the half-empty MP7 aside and helped Richard stand.

  “You’re not stubborn or anything,” he said.

  River forced a smile. “Not at all. Come on, we need to get you somewhere safe.”

  Richard leaned against the wall. “Riv, I can’t walk back to the cabins. It’s about seven miles. I was trying to walk to town when this shit happened. Leave me here, I can hide in the bathroom or something. It’s warm and there is shelter, I’ll last longer than out there. You can bring help.”

  River didn’t like it, but she knew he was right. He was so weak he felt like he weighed a thousand pounds. She could probably carry him over her shoulders, but the going would be slow, she could move twice as fast without him.

  “Fine, come on, I saw a private cubical outside the forward galley.”

  He nodded his agreement and put his arm over her shoulder. Together they returned to the front of the aircraft where, between the cockpit and the forward galley, a narrow door led into a private office. More papers lay strewn across the floor, along with a miraculously undamaged laptop and the contents of the desk. River lowered Richard into the single chair.

  “Wait here, I’m going to see if I can find some blankets and water for you,” she said.

  Richard nodded weakly and leaned back. His face was pale and had that clammy look that said he was on the verge of passing out. River kissed his cheek and moved back into the cabin. She found blankets in one of the storage compartments, along with a few half-size pillows. She tucked the plastic-wrapped bundle under her arm and returned to the galley where she retrieved a few bottles of water and a handful of peanut packets. If Richard’s stomach had been nicked by the bullet, the peanuts might make things worse. But considering he wasn’t vomiting blood or bile and had no other indication of the injury being worse than it looked, River thought it was worth the risk. The protein and water would help him recover from the shock and could very well keep him alive until she could find help.

  River returned to the office and covered Richard with several blankets and surrounded him with pillows. They would provide both comfort and warmth. He smiled his thanks and drank a third of a bottle of water before sagging back into the pillows.

  River handed him the peanuts. “Eat some of these if you can. They aren’t much, but the protein will help you recover from the shock to your system.”


  Richard took the peanuts with shaking fingers and River knelt beside him.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  He gave a weak smile and shook his head. “No. But I know you’ll be faster without me and that means you can bring back help. Rylee would never forgive us if we both died trying to get me out of here.”

  River turned and looked at the seats and other equipment. “Maybe I can rig a travois or something−”

  Richard cut her off. “There isn’t time. In the time you could rig something you could bring back help. You can make the distance without me in less than an hour, then take the truck back.”

  “Alright. I’m going to close the door, stay quiet and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  She drew her pistol and offered it to him. Richard shook his head and pushed it away.

  “I’m in no condition to fight, and you saw them, they don’t consider me a threat. If they come back, I’ll just play dead,” he said.

  River holstered the weapon and straightened. “Keep warm, I’ll see you soon.”

  “Wait!”

  Richard fished in his pocket and pulled out a white rectangle. A passkey. “I found this on the floor, it’s some kind of passkey. I don’t know what it goes to, but maybe you can use it.”

  River pocketed the key then stepped into the hallway. She gave Richard one last encouraging look and closed the door behind her.

  Outside, she set off at a steady jog. The nearest help was still the cabins, Rylee was a trained trauma nurse who could work wonders with a needle and dental floss. She could stabilize Richard and then they could transport him to the local hospital.

  She was almost back to the damaged truck when she spotted another group of the armed men standing around it while another group of people dressed in hazmat suits worked in the back. River ducked behind a tree before she was spotted and knelt in the snow. She watched as the first of the corpses was removed and carried to a waiting black personnel carrier that looked like something out of a science-fiction movie. It had probably started life as a Russian Typhoon-K, but this one was so heavily modified it was like comparing a bicycle to a state of the art Harley.

  River pulled her phone out of her pocket and started to record the scene. This was all so insane, she would need some kind of proof to show the police. On the small screen she watched as the next of the corpses was loaded. It looked as if something was crawling around his mouth, something that made one of the suited men let go of the stretcher. The body fell to the street and River was able to get clear video of something, an insect-like thing, crawling out of the man’s gaping mouth.

  “What the hell?” she muttered.

  It was way too early in the decomposition cycle for there to be maggots, especially in this cold. She zoomed in again, trying to get a closer look at the insect without being seen.

  “Drop it!” a voice behind her said.

  River straightened and dropped her phone into the snow beside her. When the uniformed guard bent to retrieve it, she kicked him in the face. The toe of her boot shattered his facemask and he screamed in pain, attracting the attention of the other men, half of which started running in her direction.

  “Shit!”

  River pulled her phone out of the snow and started running. She stuck to the woods on the edge of the road and kept her head down as bullets whizzed past and punched holes in trees nearby. Whoever these guys were, they had no interest in keeping her alive.

  Instead of heading into the woods toward the crash, River crossed the road and led the men away from it. If they were chasing her, maybe they wouldn’t find Richard. She tried not to think what would happen to her friends if the men caught her. It was a grim fate she didn’t need to contemplate.

  She gained a few moments of breathing room while the men boarded the slow-moving Typhoon. She used the time to run full speed down the next hill, then take cover in the deep snow that had been cleared by the plows. With any luck they wouldn’t notice her and she would have a chance to circle back behind them and return to the cabins. She lay there, breathless with melting snow dripping down her face, watching the Typhoon get closer.

  Little by little she became aware of another engine, something higher-pitched but no less throaty than the Typhoon. She craned her neck and looked down the hill, where she spotted her own Raptor approaching. She wasn’t sure if she should breathe a sigh of relief or scream in horror. No one but Rylee had a key to the Raptor, and she would die before she loaned it to anyone. Which meant she was driving right into the jaws of danger.

  River stood and put three holes into the front left tire of the Typhoon. It had run-flat capability, but in the snow it would be even slower than usual, which gave her a few extra moments to run.

  The noise attracted the attention of the men clinging to the Typhoon’s flanks and they opened fire, but River was already moving, using the snowbank as cover. She felt bullets tug at her jacket and hair, but kept running. She had to stop Rylee before she came around the corner and came face to face with the Typhoon, which would turn her and the Raptor into Swiss cheese in a matter of seconds.

  The Raptor’s headlights loomed out of the darkness and she raised her arms over her head, waving for attention. The truck slid sideways and she climbed into the back seat before it had even come to a complete stop. As she’d expected, Rylee, dressed in her new coat and cute knit beret, was behind the wheel. Dustin sat beside her with a hunting rifle across his knees and Jody sat behind Rylee.

  River slammed the door. “Go!”

  “Wait, did you find Richie?” Dustin asked.

  “Go!” River repeated, her eyes locked on Rylee.

  Rylee nodded and turned the truck back the way they had come a beat before the Typhoon came into view. Bullets punched through the Raptor’s tailgate like it was butter and pinged off the rear of the cab with a sound like popcorn popping. Rylee screamed and scrunched down in her seat.

  “What the hell is that?” Dustin yelled.

  “Badguys,” River replied. She leaned over the driver’s seat and looked at Rylee. “Just run, baby. She’s fast and she’ll hold the road, just go before they put any more rounds into us.”

  Rylee nodded and the Raptor surged forward. The sure-footed truck was based on a design that had won more awards than River could count, which was why she’d bought it in the first place. Rylee wasn’t exactly a rally driver, but she was competent. What she lacked in skill was made up by bravery and a vehicle that responded easily to her touch.

  The hail of bullets lessened and the Typhoon fell behind, soon becoming nothing but a distant speck of light up the mountain.

  Rylee slowed the truck and looked back at River. “Okay, now can you tell me what the hell is going on? Who were those guys?”

  “And where is Richie?” Dustin asked.

  River took off her gloves and started reloading her pistol from a box of cartridges in the center console.

  “I don’t know who they are,” she said, not looking up. “They’ve killed at least one guy, probably more. They shot Richie, too.”

  She met Dustin’s eyes. “He’s alive, I got him stabilized and led those guys away, but it’s only a matter of time. We need to find another way up there and get him to a hospital.”

  Jody shook her head. “This is just crazy. Why would anyone shoot at Richie?”

  “I think he saw something he wasn’t supposed to. Does it matter? He’s wounded and we need to get back to him,” River said. “Where are the staties?”

  Dustin leaned back in his seat. “We tried to raise the police department on the radio and by phone, nothing. I think we’re on our own, at least for now.”

  Rylee looked over her shoulder. “Where am I going?”

  “There’s another logging trail that heads back up into the woods, take the next left,” River said.

  Rylee nodded and stomped on
the gas. The truck lunged forward and she guided it down the snowy road toward Winter Cove. After a few minutes they spotted the narrow logging trail that led back up the mountain. Rylee slowed at the entrance and looked back at River. “I think you should drive, love.”

  River nodded and climbed out of the truck. She met Rylee in front of the headlights and paused to hug her tight.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  Rylee snuggled under her chin. “I love you too. When Dusty told us what happened, I was so scared something had happened to you, I had to come.”

  River smiled. “I know, I would have done the same. You showed up just in time, like you always do.”

  She let go and started around the truck. “Let’s get Richie to safety, then I’ll tell you all about it over hot chocolate and strawberries.”

  River climbed behind the wheel of her truck and adjusted the controls. The Raptor had special settings to make traversing deep snow and ice easier, and she activated them now. As bad as the road ahead looked, they were going to need whatever edge they could get.

  Rylee slammed the back door and River pressed the gas, nosing the truck down the narrow track. Where the main road had been plowed and was old but serviceable pavement, this was nothing more than dirt and rock cleared by the passage of vehicles. Had it not been marked with signs, she would never have known it was there.

  The Ford barreled along the trail at breakneck speed, often leaving the ground only to come crashing back seconds later in a shower of dirt and snow. As they climbed ever higher and deeper into the mountains, River used the truck’s onboard maps and compass to track where the plane had crashed. She guessed it was to the north and west, and she guided the truck in that direction when she could, using side tracks and snowmobile trails when she had to.

  After an eternity of minutes, she spotted the fuselage, still lit by the fire in the remaining engine. She brought the truck to a stop fifty yards from the plane and looked out at the night. There was no sign of the Typhoon, but something didn’t feel right. Her instincts told her they were not alone.

  She looked at Dustin. “I’ll need your help to get him out.”