Part 14 (2/2)
The clouds had thinned as they worked, allowing the midday sun to finally put in an appearance. It was a strange experience to be crunching through snow almost up to your knees with the sun so bright overhead and yet be so d.a.m.n cold.
Emily filled the can one final time and heaved it back to the waiting Cat. She placed it on the gantry and then climbed up herself. When she had poured the last few drops into the Cat, she replaced the metal cap on the tank and screwed it down tight, tossing the empty can out into the snow.
She stood for a moment in the sun, catching her breath and stretching out the kinks in her back. Thank G.o.d she didn't have to do that every day; she would be a wreck.
She had left the sheet of wood and tape she'd found earlier resting on the Cat's rear track. Now she picked them up and climbed into the cabin. She stripped away the makes.h.i.+ft repair from the winds.h.i.+eld, tossing it out into the snow. While Rhiannon held the board, Emily quickly taped it into place, doubling up the amount of tape just to be sure.
Back in the driver's seat, the board partially obscured the right side of her view, but she could make do.
”Let's make camp,” Emily said to Rhiannon as she steered the Cat toward what looked like the reception area for the hotel. A sign above the door read SLATE CREEK INN in large red letters.
She was reticent to leave the warmth of the cab behind them again so soon, but their cramped legs and stiff backs welcomed the promise of an opportunity to rest. ”Stay in the Cat with Thor, okay? Until I know it's safe.”
Rhiannon clearly wanted out of the claustrophobic cab, but she nodded her acknowledgment.
There were no signs of any other survivors in the camp-no telltale smoke from a fire, no fresh tracks in the snow. Of course that didn't mean that there couldn't be someone inside any of these buildings. The rumble of the Cat's engine would have traveled for miles, arriving long before they had and alerting anyone or anything that they were going to have visitors.
Emily climbed the wooden steps up to the entrance and pushed open the door with her shoulder. Leaning inside, she quickly looked over the room. There was a rickety-looking reception desk and a well-worn but comfortable-looking sofa in one corner. A selection of candy bars on a rack in front of the register sat next to a line of mummified sandwiches. Against the farthest wall was a gla.s.s-fronted refrigerator with a selection of still-frozen ice cream on one of the shelves. Several liter-size bottles of soda were lined up like soldiers along a metal rack next to the refrigerator.
Emily made her way down the corridor connecting the reception area to the rooms and checked each room one by one.
She settled on the last room at the farthest end of the building. The beds were still made, each with a thick gray blanket. The room was also the farthest from the entrance, so there was only one direction any possible threat could come from, which meant she would be able to sleep a little more comfortably.
Back at the Cat, Emily collected Rhiannon and Thor, along with their supplies, then led them back through the building to their accommodations.
Rhiannon made a face when she saw the wood-lined walls of the tiny room, but she flopped down on the left bed with a huge sigh as though she had been on her feet all day instead of cruising in the comfort of a heated cab, snoozing her way through the majority of the journey.
The room was far too small for them to use the gas cooker safely, so Emily designated the next room down as their kitchen for the evening and set up the gas stove on the floor between the beds in that room. Despite the relative comfort the Cat had afforded them, they were both looking forward to something hot, Emily thought as she heated the stew. They were both tired of the granola bars and bags of chips they had snacked on for most of the journey since leaving Fairbanks. Emily still had a couple of cans of Dinty Moore beef stew that she had been saving, and her mouth began to water at the thought of it, even though the stuff gave her awful gas. Well, she could always blame Thor.
Back in their room, Emily found Rhiannon sitting on the side of her bed. The girl's head was in her hands and tears rolled down her cheeks, forming a tiny partially frozen pool of spilled emotion between her feet. Thor was sitting next to the girl on the bed, his head in her lap, his eyes fixed on the child.
”Hey?” said Emily, gently setting the bowls of steaming stew on the floor. ”What's wrong, kiddo?” It took Rhiannon a few moments to gather herself before she answered.
”What day is it?” she said.
Emily had to pause for a moment and think. Jeez? She hadn't given it much thought, but she was pretty sure it was...”Thursday,” she said. ”Yeah. It's a Thursday. Why?”
”But what date...What date is it?”
Emily did some quick math in her head. ”It's the twenty-fourth,” she replied. This apparently was the wrong answer because the girl burst into tears again.
”Hey, hey, hey.” Emily slid in next to the girl, their parkas crackling against each other as she placed her arm around Rhiannon's shoulder, pulling her close. ”What is it, sweetheart? What's wrong?”
Through a barrage of sniffles and tears Rhiannon turned and looked at Emily. ”It's my birthday,” she said. ”Today's my birthday.”
Emily was taken aback, but after a moment, she leaned in and gave Rhiannon a kiss on the crown of her head. ”Happy birthday,” she said, pulling back and smiling as genuinely as she could. ”How old are you?”
”Thirteen.”
”Wow! You're a teenager, kiddo. Congratulations. We have to do something special. Hold on here for a moment.” Emily grabbed the flashlight and headed out of the room, toward the reception area. Pus.h.i.+ng through the doors, she shone her light around the darkening room until she found what she was looking for. She pulled open the door to the refrigerator and grabbed a selection of the ice-cream cartons and a liter of c.o.ke to go with it. The c.o.ke was almost ice, but she figured she could squeeze out a gla.s.s or so each; it might be a little slushy, but still...
”Here you go, birthday girl,” she said as she reentered the room. ”Sorry I don't have any candles.” She handed the girl a fork from the backpack. ”Or clean spoons,” she added with a smile. ”You know, the best way to eat ice cream is with a fork anyway. Makes it easier.” To ill.u.s.trate the point, Emily popped the top off the tub of Strawberry Surprise and scooped a forkful into her mouth.
”Mmmmm! Mmmmm! Mmmmm! Here, try some.” Rhiannon halfheartedly dug into the tub and pulled out a large chunk of strawberry-laden ice cream and took a bite while Thor watched expectantly.
”Can't leave you out, can we?” said Emily as she tossed Thor a piece of the frozen confectionery. He swallowed it whole and beat his tail against the blanket in appreciation. ”Nope. No more for you until you wish Rhiannon a happy birthday,” she insisted. This brought a smile to Rhia's face, and Emily seized the moment, popping open the tub of double chocolate fudge. Rhiannon's eyes lit up as she chewed the ice cream, savoring the flavor.
”Opletely missing any of the targets they had set up. The squeak quickly flowed into a fit of excited giggles as she brought the gun back up on the next target, c.o.c.ked it, and squeezed off another round. That one went wide, too. But her third shot clipped a can and sent it spinning into the air.
”Yes!” she yelled, waving both hands in the air.
”Careful, that thing's still loaded. You don't want to accidentally shoot yourself...or me.”
”Sorry.”
”S'okay. Just remember guns are dangerous. Let's try again.”
Emily had been waiting for an appropriate time to teach the kid how to shoot since she had picked up the pistols in Fairbanks. The sooner she learned, the safer she would be. The future was an unknown quant.i.ty for all of them now, and Emily would need to pa.s.s on as many of her survival skills as possible to the girl.
Emily waited until Rhiannon had fired off all six rounds, then showed her how to pop open the cylinder, dump the spent cartridges, and reload with new ammo. As she watched Rhia carefully aim and fire off each round, she checked her Glock, fed rounds into the magazine, and slammed it home.
”Not bad,” she said, ”Not bad at all.” Actually the kid was pretty d.a.m.n good, hitting four of the six targets. For a kid who had never fired a gun before, that was quite impressive.
When Rhia had discharged her final round, Emily asked her to empty the gun and set it aside. ”Go set up those targets for me, would you?”
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