The Darkest Winter Page 18

  “How about I shove my pistol in your mouth, bitch, and shut you up!” One man shouted from the shadows. Mr. Sneer looked at him, a silent cautioning. Was it a game they were playing?

  Mr. Sneer pulled his pistol out slowly, too entertained to fully engage. That, or he was planning something, and I was through waiting for them to make a move.

  No more words. Without hesitation, I aimed for Mr. Sneer, let out a breath, and pulled the trigger, hitting him in the forehead. He fell to the ground with a thud.

  The shotgun went off, and I heard a man curse in pain as he fell to the ground. There was another one, somewhere, but I didn’t know if he was still hiding in the shadows.

  Heart racing, I peered out into the darkness, waiting for the slightest movement. I could hear the injured man grunting and cursing where he lay, but I didn’t worry about him, not with his gun discarded a few feet from him when he fell.

  Then, I heard another gunshot in the house.

  “Sophie!” I screamed and ran toward the back, my heart bursting with fear. I fumbled up the steps and inside, pistol raised and feet carrying me so fast I felt like I was flying. The kids scrambled and screamed upstairs.

  “Sophie!” I shouted, reaching the landing to find a lifeless man on the floor. Sophie’s jacket was hanging off her arm and her shirt was ripped, but she was okay.

  Relieved, I leapt over him and into kids’ room. They cried, huddled in the corner. They were terrified, but they were safe. They were safe. Beau held his sister in his arms, both of them shaking as tears streamed down their cheeks.

  Sophie stood facing the doorway, starting at the man’s body. “I hesitated—”

  “You saved Beau and Thea, Soph. They are okay because of you.”

  With shaking hands I pulled her into my arms and cried with her. I cried because I could’ve gotten them all killed. “We should’ve gotten to the car and left,” I breathed. The four of us might’ve been shook up, but the kids wouldn’t have had to see that. “We should’ve just left,” I repeated.

  Beau screamed as Sophie pointed behind me, “Elle!”

  I turned around as the man clambered to his feet, my stupidly discarded gun in his hand.

  “You stupid bitch,” he seethed, limping to stand. I stepped in front of Sophie, anger and resentment coursing through me like the breath that sucked in and out of my lungs. “What the hell do you want?” I shouted at him, hoping I might buy time to think.

  “You to die,” he said, and he aimed the pistol at me. His leg almost gave out on him, but he didn’t need both legs to shoot me or the kids who were hiding helpless in the room.

  “No!” I screeched and shook my head. I scrambled back toward them, shielding their bodies with my own.

  “Next time, make sure I’m dead,” he growled, and I knew what was coming before I heard his finger on the trigger. I could feel it in my bones, the imminent future, and I would not let him hurt us.

  “No,” I commanded, straightening. “No.” It was the only word I could verbalize as my body took over. I could feel the raw power humming inside me, more intense than ever before, and for the first time in five months, I gave in and let it pour out of me.

  Flames. Fire. Bright light and burning energy.

  Whatever it was, it was a blinding rage, and it made me feel alive. It made me feel strong, and without moving, I reached for the intruder like an extension of my hand itself, like fingers aflame that wrapped around his neck, dropping him to the ground.

  It leached out of every pore. Consumed every part of me. I could feel the man’s life force go up in flames. I could feel it coursing through me, feeding the fire inside me more.

  And then it was gone.

  Everything grew dark again, and I dropped to my knees, my chest heaved and I gasped for breath. My molten insides cooled with each pull of crisp air, and my eyes adjusted to the darkness. The man was more than dead; I scorched him and smoke still steamed from his corpse.

  “Elle . . .” Beau whined. But I couldn’t move as I tried to catch my breath and find myself again.

  “Elle . . .” Sophie said next.

  I peered back at them, the vision of them a little blurry. “Are you all right?” I asked.

  They climbed to their feet to run over, and I shrieked, backing away. “Don’t touch me,” I warned. I wasn’t wearing my gloves. “Don’t touch me,” I reiterated, still trying to catch my breath.

  Beau stood there crying, Sophie trying to ease him back toward her and his sister. “Give Elle some space, bud,” Sophie said, but I could only hear her remotely. All I could do was stare at the dead body, remembering the night I’d killed someone for the first time. This time, I allowed myself to feel gratitude for what I could do, even if I didn’t understand it. Even if it was dangerous.

  “Gather your things,” I said, rising to my feet. “They have a larger group, and they could be here any moment. We need to get out of here.”

  I picked up my pistol and handed Sophie the shotgun. “You might need it.” We could dissect whatever happened later. More men would come looking for these one. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Where are you going?” Sophie asked.

  I didn’t tell her one man was still alive outside. There was no reason to. “He was right,” I said as I hurried down the stairs. “I should’ve made sure he was dead. I won’t make that mistake again.”

  Chapter 32

  Elle[LP81]

  I brushed a strand of hair from my face, finally feeling the coiled tension in my body ease the further we drove from Slana. If more men showed up, we’d be long gone, and I hoped for snow to cover our tire tracks.

  I couldn’t spare another thought for that thought. My mind was too full, and I prayed Jackson and Alex would see our note. It was what happened after I couldn’t get off my mind.

  My gloved hands gripped the wheel, the leather protesting. The ever-present thing inside me had brought as much horror as it brought protection and peace of mind.

  Succumbing to thoughts of what came next, I continued down the dark highway. Jackson would see the charred body in the hallway; he could put two and two together and would know I was the one who killed his father, and while he might not fault me for saving myself, he would hate me for lying to him. I hated me. It was wrong, and I felt that with every fiber in me, and yet I hadn’t been able to tell him the truth. It was self-preservation and selfishness just as much as it was fear.

  I glanced in the rearview, seeing nothing but a glow of red and darkness behind us. After what happened tonight and knowing there were others made driving with the lights on a risk, but it was one I had to take if I would get us to our meeting point in Tetlin safely.

  Sophie stared out the window.

  The car was awash with silence, and I cleared my throat. “How are they doing back there?” It was the first and only thing anyone had uttered since we’d gotten on the road an hour ago.

  She glanced in the back. “They’re sleeping.”

  “Good. But I don’t know how they can sleep after what just happened.”

  Remembering Sophie’s torn shirt, I cleared my throat. “Sophie,” I said as carefully as I could. She looked at me. “Did he touch you—”

  She shook her head. “I’m fine.”

  “That’s not what I asked.” I knew the look on her face. It was one of shame and disgust. Even if I knew he didn’t get far, the thought of his hands on her made the bile churning in my stomach the whole ride, inch its way up my throat.

  “He probably would’ve, but we stopped him. Really, I’m fine, Elle. I promise.”

  Thea stirred in her seat and Sophie peered back, smiling. She watched them a moment then straightened in her seat. “When I was little, I loved riding in the car. It was soothing.” She looked down at her hands. “I always fell asleep.” Leaning over, she rifled through her bag and pulled out a bag of sunflower seeds. “Want some? They help me keep my mind busy,” she explained.

  “No, thanks.” I glanced in the rearvie
w again, relieved to see it was still only darkness behind us. “My stomach’s in knots. I’d probably throw it up.”

  It was silent for a few moments with only the sound of the road and the hum of the engine. The heater hissed from the vents and the car was warm—crammed full of haphazardly packed things, but we had the essentials, which was enough.

  “Elle?” Sophie’s voice was only a whisper.

  “Yeah?”

  “He said he could smell us.”

  My jaw ached as I gritted my teeth together. “Yeah, he did.”

  She shook her head, incredulous. “He could smell us . . . That’s crazy right? I mean, if . . .” She leaned her head back against the headrest. “If we can do what we can do, and we’re not crazy, and he could do what he could do and he was . . . Once again I wondered what else can people like that do? How much danger are we really in?”[LL82]

  It was a question neither of us knew the answer to. Knowing there were crazy survivors out there was one thing, crazy survivors with strange capabilities like we had taken everything to a whole new, horrifying level.

  “Predator and prey,” Sophie whispered.

  “What?”

  “In nature, there’s a balance to everything—an evolution. Like a moth with large eyes painted on its wings to scare of predators and frogs with toxic skin. Jackson said we’re not the top of the food chain anymore.” She stared at me, trying to put the pieces together, but I had little insight to offer. “If natural selection reset the scales, Elle, those of us left have to find a new balance.”

  “You’re saying what’s happening to us is Mother Nature? I feel like evolution takes a bit longer than a couple days of being sick with the flu.”

  “I don’t know about that part, but it makes sense, right? What matters is we’re not defenseless. If they can use their powers for bad, we can use ours for good.”

  “Soph, we’re not superheroes—”

  “No, but we’re different and you saved us tonight. If you hadn’t fried that guy, we’d probably be dead or worse. The bad guys left might be worse, but Mother Nature or whatever this is, hasn’t left us defenseless.”

  “Not all of us can do this kind of stuff,” I reminded her. “So how does that rate in your theory? Some of us are defenseless against superpowers? That seems rigged.”

  “That we know of,” she muttered. “Maybe it takes time and not everyone knows they have a superpower yet.”

  “Can you stop calling it that please? It’s weird.”

  “What do you want me to call it, a gift?” she said dryly.

  I shuddered. “No, it’s not a gift.”

  “Then we’ll stick with power for now.”

  I sighed, too exhausted to argue. Theoretically, Sophie’s points were valid, but the how of it all was still a mystery. “What about you? You super power is to be miserable by seeing and feeling people’s memories?’

  “For now,” she grumbled. “But it could be helpful, maybe.”

  “When? When a guy like Sir Sniffs-a-lot already has his hands on you, you’ll be able to tell how horrible he really is?” I bit out.

  “I don’t know,” she breathed, deflated. “I’m just trying to understand.”

  “I know, Sophie. I’m sorry. I’d like to think I’m superhuman and can save the world, but it doesn’t work that way. What I can do is dangerous. I am dangerous.”

  “No, you’re not.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  Sophie didn’t argue further and turned her attention back out the window. I refused to believe I was suddenly living in a comic book world where I had to worry every human being I met was good or evil, and if their superpower could tear me to shreds. Even if a voice inside my head pointed out I already was. Every stranger was a potential threat, now I had to worry what they could and if I could best them.

  “Jackson will freak when he finds out what happened,” Sophie said.

  I rested my elbow on the door and rubbed my temple. “Yes, he will.” He will do a lot more than that.

  “Not because of the bodies,” she said softly. “He will think he failed us—he’ll blame himself.”

  “What? No, he might worry for a minute, but he’ll be occupied with other feelings, trust me.”

  “You don’t know him like I do.”

  The certainty in her voice gave me pause, and I glanced at her.

  “He couldn’t save his wife and child, and he’ll feel like he failed us too.”

  The last thing I wanted was Jackson to bear the weight of guilt for something completely out of his control. “But we’re fine,” I told her, like she could somehow channel that to Jackson. “He’ll see our note and he’ll know we’re fine.”

  Sophie nodded slightly, but said nothing else.

  I peered quickly back at the kids, heads lobbed to the side, faces smushed with sleep. “They’re going to need so much therapy.”

  Sophie laughed, even if it was true.

  “I used to know a pretty good therapist.”

  Sophie looked at me, and I could practically feel what she was thinking.

  “I forgot that you know already knew that.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that.”

  I reached to comfort her, forgetting myself, but she didn’t shy away when I clasped my hand over hers. “Don’t be sorry about what you can do, Soph. I wouldn’t wish my bat shit bullshit on anyone. I’m sorry you have to know the things you know. I can’t imagine.”

  Sophie stared at my hand.

  “Sorry—” I tried to pull away, but she clasped her other hand on top of mine. “It’s okay,” she said, and when I glanced at her, she smiled. “It’s not all bad. It’s nice to have someone like you, a big sister that would do anything for me.”

  My eyes shimmered to hear her say the words. “I would do anything for you Soph.”

  “I know.”

  I pulled my hand away and sat upright at the wheel.

  “Let’s see if there’s a new transmission from Hartley,” Sophie said and switched on the radio.

  She scanned the static until it stopped at a familiar voice. I rolled my eyes, following the bend in the road.

  “They’re calling them safe zones,” Mr. Conspiracy Theory said.

  “Not this guy again—”

  “Look out!” Sophie screamed as three caribou ran onto the highway.

  I slammed on the breaks and the Expedition swerved. I reach out to cover Sophie as the car collided into a caribou. The car crunched and rolled, and everything was silent.

  Chapter 33[K83]

  Elle

  Balsam and the scent of earth filled my nostrils. My head was pounding like a kick-drum in a heavy metal band, and my limbs felt too heavy to move.

  I remembered the caribou my eyes flew open as I gasped.

  “Shh. Shh.” A man hummed beside me. “Rest, little bird. Rest.”

  The world was a blur that made little sense, but I wasn’t in an aluminum grave, like I’d expected. No more cold air. No more kink in my neck. I was in a bed, in a room, and I was warm.

  I blinked again, my heart racing as a male form stood up from his perch beside me. [LL84]

  I tried to shout. “Who—” My throat burned, and I nearly choked. “Who are you?” I tried again.

  The man pressed my shoulders down. “Your body needs rest.”

  I shook my head, regretting it instantly, and my hand flew to my temple, shooting pain throughout my chest. I winced. “Dammit . . .”

  “Easy,” he said. “You need to take it easy.”

  I blinked up at him, watching his fuzzy form take shape.

  “You probably have a concussion on top of everything else.” He had a kind, dark, and wrinkly face, with gray hair shaggy around his ears.

  “Beau—Thea—”

  “They’re all right, miss.” I blinked across the room a few times, trying to gain my bearings. Another man with a fur cap stood in the doorway. “My wife is making them Burbot stew next door.”

  “Next door . . .” I
blinked at him, trying to piece together the forgotten moments. “Sophie?”

  “Everyone is fine. A little banged up, but it looks like you got the worst of it.”

  Even the soft firelight seemed too bright, and I closed my eyes, willing the throbbing to go away. “There was a herd of caribou in the road . . .”

  “I know, miss. One of them didn’t make it, but the others took off. I’m headed out to track them now.”

  “Track them?” I peeled my eyes open again and noticed he had a rifle in his hand.

  “There’s no sense in lettin’ good meat to go to waste.”

  Caribou. After everything else, I hit fucking caribou? We’d almost died. Again.

  Unbidden tears burned the backs of my eyes. “The kids,” I said again. “I need to see them.”

  “I’ll send them in,” the man said. There was a gentleness in his voice that made the tears form faster.

  Inhaling a deep breath, I stared at them. “Who are you people?”

  “I’m Del,” the man said from the doorway. “This man here is my father-in-law, Took. We heard the accident while we were setting up to head out for ice fishing. We brought you back to our place on Lake Mentasta, just outside the village.”

  They were Athabascan[MOU85], which accounted for the totem around the old man’s neck. They could’ve hurt us if they wanted, instead I was in a warm room with a fire burning in the stove and incense in the air.

  “Thank you,” I heard myself say, though my voice seemed far away. As I wiped the moisture from my eyes, horror shot through me.

  I stared at my hand. “Where are my gloves?” I croaked. “I need my gloves—”

  “Miss—”

  “Where are they?” I nearly shouted, propping myself up on my elbows. [LL86]I would get up if I had to, and the old man knew it. His eyes widened, and he leaned over to a small table against the wall and handed them to me.

  I pulled them over my fingers. “You don’t understand,” I breathed. “You don’t understand.” I ignored the pain [LL87]in every tiny movement. “Please,” I pleaded, barely able to keep myself together. “I need to see Sophie.” I had to see she was okay. I had to hear the words from her mouth before I lost the last shred of control I had left to the fear and the question marks jumping on the tip of my tongue.