The blood was caked thick on Wade’s hands as he dipped his arms into the swift, cold currents of the steam.  Rubbing his skin, the clear blue waters immediately turned crimson.  He leaned forward, immersing his arms all the way to his elbows to remove the blood splatter.  It was tricky work.  This time of year the waters were freezing.  One misstep would be fatal.

A low droning noise suddenly drew his attention.  It was far off in the distance but grew louder with each passing moment.  Wade recognized it.  A small prop plane, much like the one that Lloyd used was approaching.  But Lloyd wasn’t due until spring and Wade could tell by the change in tone that the aircraft was rapidly losing altitude.  The surrounding pines made it impossible to spot the aircraft but he could tell from the reverberations that the airplane was coming in from the north about five miles away.  A moment later the noise stopped.  He thought he heard a dull thoom but it could have been the wind playing tricks on him. 

The overhead clouds were grey and swollen.  A storm front was brewing.  Not having access to either a phone or the internet meant Wade had no way of knowing how long it was going to last or bad it was going to be.  This time of year the storms tended to be short but fierce and to be caught outside could be deadly.  Wade estimated he had about an hour before the storm would be upon him which allowed just enough time to finish washing and get back to his cabin to hunker down.  He looked around and gave a short, high pitch whistle.  A moment later, Sam, his hound dog appeared seemingly out of nowhere and raced to his side.  He sat down in the snow at his feet, his tail wagging furiously.

“Time to head home, buddy.”

          *

His cabin was a simple structure, consisting of little more than a bedroom, living room, and kitchenette.  Though small, it had taken him six months to build it.  He had done it himself and had managed to finish it just before the onset of a particularly brutal winter, one that he was doubtful he would have survived without shelter.

A short distance from the cabin was his work barn.  It was the same size but consisted of just one large room with no windows.  Wade walked over to the barn’s door.  A heavy bolt was across it which prevented it from being opened from the inside.  Wade double checked the bolt and gave the door two hard tugs to confirm it was secure.

No sooner had he finished than a muffled cry was heard inside.  It was weak and halfhearted but Wade’s brow furled in response.

“You’d better pipe down in there.  God help you if you don’t.”  Saying that, he leaned in towards the door and listened.

Silence was his response.

“Good.  That’s good.”  Wade turned and walked back towards the cabin.  He stopped to pick up an armful of logs from the lumber pile.  There was a small kerosene lamp in the cabin but he had to use the fuel sparingly.  Once the sun had set the fireplace provided most of the light and all of the heat.  He normally would have only taken half as much wood but he had a feeling, with the storm bearing down, that tonight was going to be much worse.

          *

With the exception of Lloyd Banner, the pilot who delivered his supplies by plane, no one else knew Wade lived here.  Even Lloyd barely knew anything about him and knew better than to pry, not wanting to lose what he was being paid.

It wasn’t as if Wade didn’t have any family or friends.  They were out there.  Somewhere.  But it had been a long time since he had connected with anyone.  A long, long time.  Every now and then Wade would cross paths with an extreme hiker, as they called themselves.  People who liked to backpack through the most remote routes possible.  They would come across his cabin and be shocked to find someone living so far north.  But those occurrences were very rare.  Wade enjoyed his privacy and when he did run into a hiker the encounter never went well.

          *

Wade settled in for the night, making sure to keep close to the fireplace.  With no electricity or modern heat the fireplace was key to survival.  He did have a hank crank radio that sometimes, as long as there was not much atmospheric interference, was able to pick up a distant country western station.  But that was a rarity.  His evening entertainment usually consisted of watching the sun make its slow descent towards the western ridgeline until the last rays of crimson, yellow, and orange sunlight lit up the sky.

He wouldn’t have traded it for anything.

          *

It was still dark out as a guttural growl began to form in Sam’s throat.  Wade was a deep sleeper but when Sam got going it sounded like someone was idling a late model Charger with a loose muffler in his bedroom.  The hound was the perfect alarm system.  Any animal coming within a quarter mile of the cabin immediately set him off.  There was an unspoken agreement between him and the wildlife about keeping clear of his property but the wolves always grew bold during the waning days of winter when food was scarce. 

Wade was up in an instant, swinging his legs out over the bed and grabbing his coat which hung from a nail over the bed.  He fired up the lantern and looked at his watch.  Dawn was still an hour away.  The local wolf pack usually made their rounds earlier in the night.  Probably a stray, he thought picking up his rifle.  A warning shot or two would be enough to send them on their way.

Sam began jogging in circles as Wade walked to the front door.  He glanced down at the hound as he threw off the latch.  Sam was excited but not overly so.  Wade had learned that the closer the animal got the more agitated Sam became.  Judging from his reaction the wolf was still a distance away.

Slinging the Winchester over his shoulder he opened the door and stepped out onto the small porch.  The clouds that had rolled in with the storm were still overhead, obscuring most of the moonlight.  But the snow and wind had moved on, leaving an eerie quiet in its wake.

Sam’s guttural growl began to intensify as the hound remained planted at Wade’s feet, waiting for his command.  Wade was tempted to say it which would send the dog bounding off into the night.  Sam was absolutely fearless and had no issues charging after a wolf or even a bear.  But Wade didn’t want to risk the hound getting injured.  Not out here.  Not when the closest veterinarian was a three-hour plane ride.  Sam could hold his own against a stray.  But if the pack was lurking out there the smart thing to do was to remain inside the cabin and wait it out until daylight.

Wade held the lantern high but he couldn’t see what was agitating the dog.  He placed the light down onto a nearby log that doubled as a stool and checked to make sure the Winchester was loaded.

The sound of a fallen tree branch being stepped on made Wade swing the rifle to the left.  Wolves were usually too careful to make such mistakes, but bears weren’t.

He kept the Winchester trained at the ocean of darkness in front of him as an object began to emerge from the woods and into the lantern’s soft glow.  Wade’s eyes widened as he took his finger off the trigger.

It wasn’t a wolf or a bear.

It was a woman.

She was of average height and had a slim build and was plodding heavily through the snow as if a hundred-pound weight was strapped onto her.  She trudged forward through sheer will and determination, looking like she was going to pass out at any moment.

Which is precisely what she did.

          *

The woman weighed even less than she looked and it didn’t take much effort to get her inside and in front of the fireplace.  Wade removed her boots which were soaked through and through.  Her feet were frostbitten but it looked reversible and Wade didn’t think any of the toes were going to have to amputated.  The woman had been lucky.  Another few hours exposed and things would have turned dire.  He removed her gloves and saw thick purplish bruises around each of her wrists. 

Wade touched her left leg and was surprised to see that his hand became covered in blood.  He looked more carefully and saw the wound.  It didn’t look like it was going to need stitches but it needed to get cleaned and bandaged to prevent infection.

Wade stoked the fireplace and began laying out her wet clothing in front of the flames to dry them out.  Everything that she wore was too large and was men’s clothing.  Even with two quilts on top she was shivering so much that even Sam looked concerned.  The hound fell into a cycle of sniffing the woman’s face before trotting over to the front door to sniff around that as well.  After the tenth time Wade’s patience began to grow thin.  “I don’t think she’s going to turn into a wolf, buddy.”  But Sam was undeterred and continued his routine for a while more before finally coming to a rest at the base of the front door.

While the woman slept Wade searched her clothing but her pockets were empty.  She had no identification or phone.  Realizing he wasn’t going to get any answers until she woke, Wade began cleaning up around the cabin so that he wouldn’t have to answer any questions himself.  The butcher’s knives and rope were placed out of sight.  There was a bundle of old, bloodied rags in the corner of the kitchen that he had forgotten about so he placed them into a burlap sack and took them outside to the far side of the barn.  As he started walking back to the cabin he could hear movement from inside the barn.  “You had best shut up if you know what’s good for you,” Wade hissed.

The noise abruptly stopped.

A minute passed and he didn’t hear anything else so he began making his way back towards the cabin.  Wade didn’t have any desire to explain himself to the woman if she happened to hear it. 

          *

It wasn’t until the following evening that the woman woke up.  She sat up slowly from the floor as she worked out the muscle cramps and pains.

“Finally decided to get up, I see,” said Wade as he sat at the kitchen table, feet up on a chair as he whittled at a piece of wood.  “Just like Sleeping Beauty.”

She looked around uncertainly.  “Where am I?”

“My cabin.  You stumbled across it last night.”

“How long have I been asleep for?”

“Better part of the day,” he replied.  “What’s your name?”

“Lynette.”

“You part of that plane crash, Lynette?”

She took a moment to answer.  “Yes.  Is it close by?”

“A few miles to the north.”

“Did you go to it?”

Wade shook his head.  “Not with that storm bearing down and not with you being unconscious.”

“Then how do you know it was only a few miles away?”

He continued working at the wood.  “Any further and you would’ve been done it by either the weather or the wolves.”

She slowly looked around the cabin.  “You live here?”

“You’re very perspective, Lynette.” He gestured towards her with the knife.  “How about you try telling me a little bit about yourself?  Who else was in that plane?”

“Pilots.”  She opened her mouth and swallowed hard.  “My fiancé.”

“Any other survivors?” Wade asked.

Lynette shook her head.  “No.  I’m not really sure how I lived through it.  One moment we were airborne, the next moment the plane was crashing through the forest, the trees tearing the plane to shreds.”

“What were you doing all the way out here?”

“We rented the plane to do some sightseeing.”

“Sightseeing?” he repeated.  “This time of year?  Not much to see except snow, snow, and more snow.”

“Well, John thought it would be pretty,” she answered.  “Romantic.”

“Nothing romantic about a plane crash in the middle of nowhere.  You should consider yourself damn lucky that you came across my cabin when you did.  You had a few hours left of life in you.  Your feet even less.

Lynette rubbed her brow and then looked around the cabin again.  “You live a little primitive around here.”

“I’m off the grid if that’s what you mean,” he answered.  “I’m a man of simple needs.”

“I don’t see a phone.”

“You’re very observant.”

“Internet?” she asked.

Wade crooked an eyebrow.  “Was that supposed to be a joke?”

A fleetingly brief sigh of relief swept across her face which Wade thought was odd.  “I’m not going to bother asking you about a car but I’m guessing you have a snowmobile tucked away somewhere?”

Wade shook his head and the sigh of relief was suddenly replaced by alarm.  “You’re kidding, right?  How do you get around?”

“God gave me two feet which are attached to two legs.  I make the most of them each and every day.”

“How do you interact with anyone?”

“I’ve got a guy who drops off supplies late Spring and Fall.  Once the ice melts he lands on Black Oak Lake a mile to the south of here.”

“Lynette ran her hand through her hair.  “Are you saying that I’m stuck here until then?”

Wade turned back to his woodcarving.  “The outfit you hired is aware of the plane’s flight path.  With the storm passed I’m sure they’ve already sent out a search aircraft.  We just need to get you back to the crash site.”

Lynette shook her head.  “They’re not going to find anything.”

Wade leaned in forward.  “And why’s that?”

“After we took off John gave the pilot an additional $500.”

“What for?”

“There’s a mountain range he wanted the pilot to fly us over.  He insisted it would be romantic.”

Wade coughed up a bit of phlegm.  “How far off course were you?”

“Let’s just say that they’re not going to find us.”  Lynette leaned forward.  “I can’t believe he’s dead.” 

“What happened to your clothes?” asked Wade.

She looked at him curiously as if caught off guard by the question.  “What?”

“The clothes you are wearing are men’s clothes.  Someone who weighed considerably more than you.”

Lynette looked down at her shirt and pants.  “Oh, those,” she said, taking a deep breath.  “When the plane crashed I was ejected from it and into the snow.  When I awoke my clothes were completely soaked.  I took the pilot’s clothes.  It felt disrespectful leaving him naked.”

Wade placed his wood carving onto the table.  “Seems to me like you did what you needed to do to survive.”

Lynette looked down at her injured leg.  “Thank you for rebandaging the wound.”

“It should heal just as long as you don’t exert yourself and aggravate it.”  He motioned to her leg with the knife.  “Interesting injury.  Looks just like a gunshot wound.”

She winced as she moved her leg into a better position.  “While I was searching for survivors inside the plane I got stuck by a jagged piece of metal from the plane.

“And the chaffing marks around your wrists?” asked Wade.  “They happen the same way as well?”

Lynette opened her mouth to respond but then cleared her throat and looked at him with annoyance.  “Do you mind if we change the conversation from what happened in the past to the future?  Like how I’m going to get back to civilization?”

Wade picked up the sharpening stone that was on the table and began to slide his knife across it.  “Don’t you worry.  We’ll get you back there at some point.”

“How far is the closest…anything?”

“I’ve got a neighbor to the east, Walter Scruggs.  Trapper.  Lives by himself.  He’s got a snowmobile.  At least, he did last time I spoke to him.  It’s been a while since he last stopped by.

Lynette’s eyes lit up.  “How far away does he live?”

“About forty miles.  Give or take.”

“Is there a road to get to his house?”

Wade continued sharpening his knife in slow, steady strokes.  “Was that supposed to be another joke?”

She stared at him for a moment.  “Can you please stop doing that?”

Wade halted in mid-stroke before slowly placing the blade and stone down onto the table.  “Since you’ll be a guest here for the foreseeable future we might as well go over some house rules.”

“House rules?” Lynette repeated.

“That’s right.”  Wade cleared his throat.  “First rule.  I talk and you listen.  I tell you to do something and you do it without asking any questions.”

Lynette sat still.  “I really don’t think…”

“I’m not asking you to think,” snapped Wade.  “I am asking you to listen.”  He gave her a long hard stare.  “Are we clear about this rule?”

Lynette returned his stare.  “Crystal.”

“Good.”  Wade picked up the knife and began to look over the blade.  “Now the next rule for you to understand is that there are places that are off limits.  Places that are no-go areas.  Two such areas are my bedroom and the barn.”  He began spinning the knife in his hand.  “Are we clear about rule number two?”

Lynette’s brow furled.  She didn’t reply.

          *

The sun was barely up when she was awoken to stirring from inside the cabin.  She had been sleeping on the floor in front of the fireplace again and winced in pain as she sat up.

“You wound is going to feel a whole lot worse before it starts feeling better.”  Wade said as he put on his coat. 

“Where are you going?”

“Hunting.”

“For what?”

“Dinner.  Hopefully enough to last us for the next week,” he said lacing up his boots.  “It’s not like there’s a Cracker Barrel down the road.”

“What type of animal are you hunting?” she asked as he continued to get his gear together.

“Whatever decides on getting in my crosshairs.  Out here, you can’t be too picky about the menu.”

“When are you going to be back?”

Wade slung the rifle over his shoulder.  “Late afternoon most likely.  I’m hoping that Sam picks up a scent sooner rather than later.”

Lynette felt her stomach beginning to rumble.  “What happens if you don’t catch anything?  We don’t eat?”

“Nah.  I got some rabbit stored out back for emergencies.  But it’s been a long winter and rabbit doesn’t age well,” he said with a grin that made her feel somewhat nauseous.

“What should I do while you’re gone?”

Wade gestured around the cabin.  By all means, feel free to tidy up and make yourself useful.  The cabin has never had a woman’s touch before.”  He fastened his coat and put on a fur lined hat that looked like he had sewn it himself.  “And don’t forget the house rules.” 

“There’s only two,” she said.

“Don’t worry.  There will be plenty more.”  He opened the cabin and Sam went bounding outside.  “I’m glad we have this understanding.  We continue to have it and I’m sure we are going to get along just fine.”  He then stepped outside and slammed the door closed behind him.

Lynette struggled up to her feet.  Her leg felt like it was on fire as she slowly hobbled over the window.  She watched as Wade made his way from the cabin until he was swallowed up by the surrounding woods.  She then hobbled over to his chair and sat down.  Looking around the primitive cabin she clenched her hands.

Woman’s touch?

          *

Wade’s path took him to the north.  To the west was a reliable deer trail but he had enough provisions to last both of them another month.  If Sam happened to pick up a scent during the trek it would be a bonus, but hunting wasn’t his priority today.

Even though more snow had fallen since Lynette came to the cabin she had left a trail that was easy to follow.  At least for him it was.  He had even managed to save some time by eliminating what appeared to be a few switchbacks in the trail.  He assumed she had done that in error as she stumbled through the woods trying to get her sense of direction.  The terrain was difficult and Wade was impressed she had the constitution, especially with her wound, to make it all the way to the cabin.

          *

It was late morning when he reached the wreckage.  The area was dense with trees but the pilot had managed to land the airplane without totally obliterating it.  It had gone to battle with the surrounding pines and the trees had won, tearing off the wings a good hundred feet away from where the fuselage had finally come to a rest.  A thick layer of snow blanketed the entire area, transforming the wreckage into odd-shaped snow drifts.

Wade carefully made his way into the craft.  It was small inside, with seating for six, a small cargo hold, and two seats in the cockpit.  The hatch had been left open and a light coating of snow had blown in and covered most of the interior. 

The two pilots, one man and one woman, were still in their seats and, unsurprisingly, quite dead.  He leaned forward and saw that both had suffered similar chest wounds.  The controls in front of them were sprayed with frozen blood.  Each of them were still buckled in.  It took a moment before Wade realized he was looking at exit wounds.  Wade looked behind the seats and saw that a hole had punched through the fabric.  He unbuckled the female pilot and moved her body forward enough so that he was able to examine her backside.  The hole in the seat had passed through her as well.

Both pilots had been shot.

Wade walked back to the rear of the aircraft.  He brushed off the snow from one of the passenger seats and saw what he had been expecting.  More blood.

Someone had been shot in the seat.  Looking closer, Wade examined the splatter pattern.  He then looked across the cabin to the chair opposite.  The shooter had been sitting there.

He stood motionless as his mind raced.  He then leaned outside of the plane and called for Sam.  The hound came running from the other side of the wreckage and leapt inside.  Wade lightly tapped the seat with the blood splatter.  Sam, knowing the command, hurried over and gave the fabric a good sniff.  Sam continued as Wade patted him on the head.  “You got it, buddy?”

The dog’s tail wagged furiously in response.

“Go get ‘em.”

The dog bounded out of the cabin as if he had been released from an invisible hold.  Sam had locked onto a scent.  All Wade needed to do was keep up.

It turned out to be a short trek.

Sam raced over to a small snowy mound about thirty feet away.  Sam planted his snout into the snow and then turned to Wade expectantly, the dog’s body shaking with excitement.

Wade knelt next to the dog and began pushing away the snow.  He had a sinking feeling what was beneath. 

The body was of a man in his late thirties, muscular, clean shaven, hair high and tight.  The cause of death was the same as the pilots.  Gunshot wound.  Wade stared at the body and wasn’t sure what troubled him more.  The fact he had been shot or the fact that he was naked.

Wade looked around but the snow was acting like a giant white eraser and was making it difficult to determine what else was nearby.  But he was running out of time.  Today had been a warmer day than the previous one.  The wolves would certainly pick up on the scents come nightfall.

He walked back to the airplane and beckoned Sam to follow.  Once inside he walked over to where the shooter had sat.  Like before, Wade patted the seat and the hound dutifully gave it a good sniff.  He gave the command and Sam was off and running again.

This time the hound led him to an overturned pine tree lying alongside a riverbed a quarter mile away.  It was a good spot.  The overturned tree created a natural hole where the roots had been.  There was an abundance of river rocks around and they had been used to fill in the hole in a way that made it look as if the currents had placed the rocks there.  It was unlikely that anyone passing by would be the wiser.

Fortunately, Sam wasn’t just anyone.

Whatever was there had been buried deep.  It took Wade a few minutes to remove the rocks.  Wade stared at the object for a while, thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him. 

But they weren’t.

He sat down on the trunk of the fallen tree and thought for a long while how he was going to handle this.

          *

Lynette had searched the rest of the cabin and failed to find anything useful.  There was no communication equipment or useful weapons.  Deciding it was time to start breaking the House Rules, Lynette hobbled her way into the bedroom.  Inside was nothing more than a homemade bed and nightstand that was little more than several pieces of wood nailed together.  The lack of personal effects in the cabin was strange.  What did this guy do all day?  On the floor in front of the bed was a large steamer trunk.  She opened it to find the contents neat and organized.  The clothes were carefully folded, almost military style.  A Polaroid camera was nestled at the bottom.

She continued searching the small room but came across nothing of note.  Everything seemed sanitary and ordinary.  Too ordinary.

This can’t be right, she thought.  There has to be something here.  She was no stranger to hiding things in plain sight.

Lynette bent down and ran her hand over the floorboards.  Like everything in the cabin they were made of sanded down wood logs.  She looked across the floor when something caught her eye.  Wade had done a good job at sealing the planks to eliminate drafts and water seepage but one plank stood out by being slightly uneven.  The sealant hadn’t been applied there and a half inch notch was at one of the ends.  Lynette noticed that it was manmade.  From the kitchen she took a knife and used it to pry the board up.  It took a little bit of finesse but after a minute the board separated from the floor and allowed her to see what was underneath.

A small wooden cigar-sized box was on the left side while a leather bundle, tied tightly with straps was on the right.  The wooden box was locked.  She gave it a quick shake.  Whatever was inside was much too light to contain something useful like a phone.  Lynette picked up the leather bundle, placed it on top of the bed and carefully opened it.

Inside was a set of knives.  All of them were about the same length but they had different designs and widths.  Lynette didn’t need to touch any of them to know that they were razor sharp.  What the hell are these for?  She folded the leather case back the way she had found it knowing that if she mixed anything up he would know.

Lynette peered into the hole again.  Though it was dark she was able to see another cigar-shaped box deep inside the hole.  She reached as far as she could and was just able to grab it with her fingertips.

Please be something useful, she thought as she removed the lid.  She held her breath in anticipation but then exhaled in frustration at what was inside.

Newspaper articles.

They were old and yellow and were from different publications throughout the country over many years, the most recent being about fifteen years old.  The clippings were all about unsolved murders and disappearances.  A shiver passed between her shoulder blades as she put the box back into the hole in the floor and placed the floorboard across it. 

Lynette winced as she walked out of the bedroom.  Her injured leg was beginning to throb and she was fearful all of this activity was making the injury worse.  But she needed to continue.  She couldn’t stop now.  Wade would be back soon. 

And there was much she still needed to do.

          *

By the time Wade saw his cabin through the pines it was already late afternoon.  A thin plume of smoke trickled out of the chimney.       He impulsively patted his satchel which hung from his side.  There was weight to it but it wasn’t from any animal he had caught on the trek back.  The clouds from the storm still hung heavy, which created enough of a chill in the air that made Wade glad he was home.

Well, maybe not that glad.

He walked into the cabin to find Lynette in the same spot in front of the fireplace.  One of the blankets covered her from her chest down.  She looked tired and worn as if she had been the one who had hiked to the airplane.

“Doesn’t look like you took it easy today.”

“I made myself something to eat.  I took a walk to the outhouse,” she said.  “You use that thing all year round?”

Wade began unfastening his coat.  “I’m expecting the plumbing to be installed right after they put in the Wi-Fi.”

“I can only imagine what torture it must be to take a piss in the middle of the night when the temperature is subzero.”  She shook her head.  “On second thought I don’t want to know.”  She shifted painfully on the floor.  “Where do you keep the toilet paper?  I couldn’t find any.”

“Spring is right around the corner.  Plenty of leaves soon enough.”

“That’s vile,” she replied.  “After trekking to the outhouse I didn’t have much energy to do anything else.”

“You got the fireplace going,” he said.

“Well, it was either that or freeze to death waiting for you to show up.”

“You didn’t snoop around the barn?  No violating the house rules?”

“No.  I didn’t look inside the barn with the snowmobile.”

“I told you already.  No snowmobile there,” he replied, placing his satchel onto the table.  “I would have used it today when I went out, right?”

Lynette shrugged.  “Beats the heck out of me.  Maybe you are a glutton for punishment.”

Wade hung his coat on a nail behind the door.  “Maybe I am.”

“You caught something?” she said looking over at his bag.

“As a matter of fact I did.”  He unfastened the satchel and removed the contents, placing it onto the table for her to see.  Instead of a squirrel or rabbit it was an orange jumpsuit with thick black letters imprinted across the back.

Lynette looked at it without any change in her expression.  “Hunting, huh?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

From beneath the blanket she removed a gun and aimed it at Wade.

Wade looked at the weapon, a .45.  “I was wondering what had happened to that.”

“I stashed it back in the woods.  Took me a while to find the damn thing.  Tired me the heck out.”

He looked down at the table.  “HMCC.  Those initials are for the penitentiary, aren’t they?”

Lynette nodded.  “I was being transported down from Anchorage to Laramie.”

“What are you wanted there for?”

She cracked a smile.  “Let’s just say it’s not shoplifting.”

“That explains the naked guy I found in the snow.  Marshall?”

She motioned with the gun for Wade to sit, which he did.  “His clothes had the least amount of blood on them.”

“Anchorage to Laramie,” he repeated.  “How did you end up here?”

“It was a long flight.  Even with the shackles on it didn’t take much to get the jump on the guard when he wasn’t expecting it.  I gave the pilot coordinates.  We were traveling on the new flight path when the co-pilot tried to pull a gun on me.  Sloppy work on my part not checking to see if either of them were packing.  Co-pilot got a bullet for his efforts.  The problem was the pilot also got shot.  Fortunately, she managed to stay conscious long enough to make the crash landing.”  Lynette sighed.  “Plowing through the trees in those final moments, I didn’t think I had a chance in hell getting through it alive.”  She shrugged.  “I guess the Lord works in mysterious ways.”

“That he does,” said Wade as he narrowed his eyes.  He looked over to the Winchester that was on the table and then back to her.

“I wouldn’t.  I’m sure you’re fast.  But you’re not that fast.”

“Never said that I was,” he replied, rubbing his jaw.  “Besides, you need me a whole hell of a lot more than I need you.”

“Is that right?”

“Supply plane isn’t due for another month and a half.  You think you’d be able to fend for yourself out here that long?”

“I fended for myself just fine for three years in…”  Lynette stopped herself as a sour look covered her face.  “Enough wasting time.  Cough up the damn phone.”

“Why would I have a phone if there’s no coverage?”

“Don’t mess with me,” she growled.  “The satellite phone.  Where is it?”

Wade shrugged as he leaned back in the chair.  “Sorry.”

Lynette pursed her lips in anger.  “I’ve just about had it with the caveman lifestyle that you’re pretending to be living here.  You’re not fooling anyone.  You’ve got modern stuff around here and I’m in no mood to play hide and seek.  No one lives completely off the grid anymore.  Not unless they’ve got stuff of their own that they don’t want people to know about.”

Wade didn’t reply.

Her eyes widened.  “That’s it, isn’t it?  Marlboro Man is hiding from his past.  That explains the stuff under the floor in your bedroom.  If that’s the case and the police find out you’re living here then you definitely have an escape route.”

Wade didn’t reply.

She motioned to the door.  “Time to take a look inside that barn.”

“That would be a bad idea.”

“I wanted to take a look earlier but the walk to get my gun wiped me out.  What have you got stashed away in there?”

“It’s where I do my work,” he replied.

“And what type of work is that?” asked Lynette before shaking her head.  “Actually, forget it.  I don’t care what you do.”  She slowly stood up.  For a moment she wobbled before she steadied herself.

“You don’t look so good,” he said.  “You should sit back down before you aggravate that injury more than you already have.”

Lynette walked over to a long stick that was propped against the wall.  “Thanks for the concern but I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t want to go in the barn.”

She ignored the comment as she gestured to the Winchester.  “You can slide that over to me.”

He did so and she slung it across her back.

“Aren’t you worried I might have another weapon stashed away somewhere?”

“You don’t.  At least not in the cabin.  The only boxes of ammo I came across belong to the rifle.”  She looked over at Sam who was sitting at attention, uncertain as to what was happening.  “Am I going to have a problem with the dog?  I’d rather not have to put it down.”

“That makes two of us,” said Wade.  “No.  He’ll stay right where he is.”

“You got a lock on that barn door?”

“No.  Just the latch.  The door is warped from the weather so you’ll have to give it a good tug if you want to open it.

Lynette kept an eye on Sam as she made her way outside.  Wade called to her as she stepped outside.

“What you did in your past and what you’ve been through ain’t none of my concern, Lynette.  Your past is your business, just like my past is mine.

The afternoon light cast her in a yellowish silhouette as she stared back at him.  “What are you talking about?”

“Lower your weapon.  Give the wound some time to heal.  Days go by quickly here.  Before you know it the supply plane will arrive.  Lloyd will take you back to civilization, no questions asked.”

“Do I look like some sort of idiot who would fall for that?”

“No,” he replied, clearing his throat.  “You certainly do not.”

She narrowed her eyes as she stared at him.  “Thanks but I’ll pass on your proposal,” she replied, slamming the door behind her.

          *

Lynette was tired but adrenaline fueled her footsteps as she made her way towards the barn.  Halfway to it she stopped and glanced back over her shoulder.  The cabin door was still closed.  Wade wasn’t standing at the window either.  For a moment she worried that there might not be a snowmobile inside the barn.  But there had to be something of use.  No one lived that far off the grid.  No matter who they are.

She winced in pain as she applied too much weight on her leg.  She leaned onto her walking stick.  Take it slow.  No need to rush it. 

A few minutes later she reached the barn door and reached for the heavy latch.  It wasn’t a lock but it seemed excessive to be on the door.  Who was he trying to keep out?  Flipping the latch she gave the door a hard tug.

The barn didn’t have any windows and the late afternoon sunlight made it difficult for Lynette to see.  Foul, stagnant air began pouring out from within, making her eyes burn.  She took a step forward as her eyes adjusted to the gloom.  From within the darkness she heard movement.  Footsteps.  Someone was inside the barn with her.

“Who’s these?”

From the darkness two glowing red eyeballs emerged as a figure began to take shape.  Lynette raised her gun up as she realized she wasn’t looking at a someone but instead a something.

          *

About a month had passed since Buster had mixed it up with something deep within the woods.  The canine, bloody and battered, barely made it back to the cabin.  His injuries were numerous but Wade was able to stitch up even the most severe.  The wounds healed but Buster didn’t.  The canine became nasty and irritable, turning into something Wade didn’t recognize anymore.  He didn’t think rabies ran this far north.  He had given the dog antibiotics but they did nothing to help it.  The best Wade could do was to try and keep the Buster alive long enough until Lloyd arrived.  He would build a crate for the plane trip and pay Lloyd to get Buster to a vet.

In the distance he heard Lynette yell out.  Gunshots rang out a moment later.  Wade walked over to the cabin window and waited a few minutes.  Neither human nor animal emerged from within.

From the bedroom trunk he removed the Polaroid and walked out to the barn.  As he approached he could see Buster lying on his side just inside the doorway.  The hound was riddled with bullet holes.  Even still, he had managed to crawl a short distance before succumbing to its wounds.

Wade looked at Buster with sadness in his eyes.  “You were a good dog.”

He walked further into the barn.  In the dim light it took him a moment to spot Lynette.  Like with Buster she had survived the initial attack and had crawled to one of the corners of the barn.  She had propped herself against the wall and for a moment he thought she was still alive.  But there was a stillness in the air that made Wade know otherwise.  Buster had gone for the throat in the same way he would have done when they went hunting.  Lynette had bled out while she waited, gun in hand, for Wade to appear.

Polaroid in hand, Wade leaned forward and took her picture.  The photo discharged from the camera and he waited patiently for it to develop.  Satisfied with the result, he walked out of the barn and back to the cabin.

From under the floorboard he removed the small wooden box that Lynette had found.  He unlocked and opened it.  Inside was a small stack of similar snapshots.  Photos from the past.  From when he was a younger man.  From when he was a different person.  From before he realized that he needed to drastically change his environment before his impulses got the best of him.

He was tempted to look through the other photos in the box.  Since moving here he had resisted the urge to do so.  Part of him wanted to burn the photos along with the newspaper clippings and throw the knives in the lake.  Not destroying them was to tempt fate in the same way as taking a sick dog back to civilization would do so.

Someday.

But not today.

He closed the box and placed it back into the hole in the floorboards.        

There were still two hours left of sunlight.  Time enough to move Buster and Lynette’s bodies to the ravine and the wolves. 

By dawn not even the bones would remain.

THE END