Gray (Book 3) (27 page)

She’d happily sacrifice herself for him in a fight. But if he didn’t make it, she imagined she’d be sacrificed anyway—sacrificed to her own failure.

Man up, Coral. Quit your whining. It’s not helping him, and it’s not helping you.

She shook off her dark thoughts and backed out of the snow cave. She got the blankets and sleeping bag and tucked them inside.

Kathy handed her a lukewarm MRE. “Sorry. I ate mine while it was hot.”

Coral took the food and wolfed it down. “Any oomph left it the warmer? Use it to melt drinking water.”

“I already did.”

Coral nodded and focused on chewing and swallowing. When she was done, she realized she had no idea what she’d been eating. Not human flesh, at any rate.

The light was going fast. They each relieved themselves then crawled into the snow cave. Coral gave Kathy a few pointers about living in one.

“It’s damned tight.”

“We’ll stay warmer.”

They lay in silence for a time, then Kathy said, “I can see how this would warm up.”

“It’ll be almost too hot by morning.” Coral shifted, trying to get more comfortable.

“How long have you and Benjamin been together?” Kathy said.

“Not long,” Coral said.

“Still honeymooners.”

Coral didn’t want to be reminded of the few nights in bed they’d snatched together these past weeks. More to mourn, if mourning was her fate. “You and I are both tired,” she said. “Get some rest.”

Kathy turned away from her and, after a few moments of restlessness, seemed to settle down.

It was strange to Coral, lying next to someone else. Kathy smelled wrong. Over the months, she had grown used to Benjamin, to his smells and sounds, the tiny shifts in his sleep, his wry sense of humor, his rare smile, his utter reliability.

Would he still be alive when dawn came?

Hang on
, she thought, wishing that the thought could fly across the miles and find him.
I’m coming to you
.

The women rose at dawn, drank plenty of water, ate an MRE each, and set out on the road again. It had continued to flurry overnight, and now the snow started coming down more steadily. They’d lose the tracks soon.

“We have to hurry,” she said.

“We have to be careful,” Kathy said, much more quietly. “Now more than ever. Shhh.”

They walked through the snow, which seemed to be picking up. Coral felt sick at the thought of losing the tracks. Around an hour later, they did. A few feet later, Kathy pointed to a sunken line in the snow and they followed it. A few minutes later, that disappeared too.

Kathy said, quietly, “You stay here, and I’ll—”

What she was planning to do would remain a mystery. For just then, Coral heard voices in the distance. From her sudden jerk to alertness, so did Kathy.

They both looked around, hunting for a place to hide themselves. It was a flat, open space. No trees remained, of course, and the rocks weren’t very large right here. A ways to the right, there was a snow drift, possibly high enough to hide them. Kathy pointed to it and Coral nodded. It was as good as they would get at short notice. Farther off the path than she’d have liked, though.

The voices were coming nearer. Kathy broke into a run, and Coral backed after her, using her pack to brush out the prints where they’d turned away from the path. Kathy hissed behind her, but she ignored the sound. If the guys were alert, they’d see the women’s prints veering off. But they were still talking, and one of them laughed, and Coral thought they might miss noticing that they were walking over new tracks. They wouldn’t miss it if they saw fresh tracks turn off at ninety degrees, though.

The voices were nearer now, and Coral wasn’t but twenty feet from the path they’d been following. It would have to do. She hugged her pack and sprinted for Kathy, who had already made the drift. She had her rifle out and was pointing it this way.

If Coral had misjudged the other woman yesterday, she was about to find out. She’d be shot dead as she ran.

But Kathy didn’t shoot, and Coral kept running, until she dove down by Kathy. She scrambled around and, with the pack, pushed some snow into a ledge. The men were not in sight yet. Coral shoved her hood back, so that they’d only see her dull colored hair, not the brighter jacket. Kathy had her rifle up and was sighting through her scope. Coral had the bow in hand, but she didn’t know if she could hit anything from this distance. Hell, without any practice on the bow, it was doubtful she could hit anything at all. She should have taken ten minutes last night to try it out.

Too late now. Two men came into view, far to the right, appearing out of the snow. Not Benjamin. Not Parnell. The two others. They were dragging something.

Benjamin? She couldn’t draw breath. Please, no.

“It’s wood,” Kathy whispered. Either she’d read Coral’s mind or had had the same terrible thought, too.

Coral squinted to sharpen her vision and could see it was wood, not a body. Ropes were attached to half-burned tree limbs and they were pulling it behind them, laughing and talking as they went.

The two women stayed still. Coral kept her eye out for Parnell and Benjamin, but it was only these two. They came level with the women, and then passed.

As their voices faded, Kathy whispered, “Shitty security, talking like that.”

“Good for us,” Coral whispered back. “But he’s alone now. With Parnell.”

“Wait until the other two are gone.”

Coral was quivering to get going. There was no time to spare now. “The instant Benjamin turns his back, he’ll be dead,” she said.

“Not if they’re close. A rifle shot would bring those guys running back. He’d wait until they’re out of range.”

“But if they’re an hour ahead of us?”

“Shh.” Kathy was right. Coral’s voice had been growing louder with her anxiety.

They waited until there was no more sound of talking, and then Coral threw her pack back on and took off running. She could hear Kathy behind her.

At least there were fresh tracks now to follow. The two of them ran, as fast as Coral’s pack would let her. In ten minutes, she was lagging. “Screw this,” she muttered, and she threw her pack off, leaving it lie there in the snow. She kept the bow and her pocket knife, nothing else.

She caught up to Kathy again and then passed her.

“Stop!” Kathy hissed, five minutes later.

Coral stopped, panting.

Kathy drew closer so she could speak in her ear. “We’re making too much noise. We have to slow down.”

Coral shook her head. She had to get to Benjamin.

“Think. Don’t work on panic. Work on smart,” Kathy said.

She was right. Coral nodded her understanding, still trying to catch her breath.

A sharp crack came from ahead.

“Rifle?” She mouthed the question to Kathy, who was shaking her head.

It was hard to tell how far it was, but Coral guessed the sound had come from no more than a half-mile ahead. She followed the tracks again, Kathy trailing her.

Coral glanced back once to find Kathy spinning around, staring into the falling snow, looking for anyone behind. Coral kept her attention on the tracks ahead.

Soon, there were more tracks. The snow was filling them in, but it was obvious this had been the camp site last night. Trampled snow, the edge of an empty MRE packet sticking out of the snow.

Kathy motioned for Coral to continue to the right, while she shifted left by several feet. Now Coral joined her in scanning around them.

Another crack split the air. Coral still didn’t know what it was. Ice breaking?

They went forward cautiously, in parallel, aiming for the sound.

Suddenly, Kathy threw up a hand: stop. She pointed to her left, and then she squatted down.

Coral got to her hands and knees and crawled to join Kathy. Ahead, there must have been a vast stand of old trees. She could still make out the occasional burned branch poking out of the snow. The snow had covered everything, but it had left a lumpy cover, building up in drifts behind fallen trunks. The trees had fallen every which way, from the looks of it.

The cracking came again. It was wood—wood being chopped or split. The sound was close now.

The two women crawled forward, sliding down into shallow depressions, then inching up to the top of the next drift, again and again. Finally, they caught sight of them. Two men, both bent to work.

Parnell had a hatchet. Not hers. This was bigger than hers, but not a full ax. Benjamin was on his knees, rolling a big charcoaled tree trunk. Parnell was chopping off the stubs of branches.

With hatchet in hand, Parnell could easily hit Benjamin next, rather than the wood.

Coral tensed her muscles, ready to spring out, but her jacket was caught as Kathy pulled her flat.

Kathy put her face right up against Coral’s ear. “Go around left, 90 degrees from me. I want to make sure one of us has a clean shot. But I’m going to talk first. You have one minute to get in position.” She pushed Coral as she let go of her jacket.

Coral had to use her head. Benjamin seemed to be weaponless. She couldn’t see his rifle, but it must be nearby. She hadn’t caught sight of Parnell’s, either, but he didn’t need it. When he was done using Benjamin for his work, he could swing the hatchet down on his head.

Were it Coral, she might use the flat end. It’d be sure to knock someone out. Then you could use the blade on the throat—

Stop thinking about it.

But she couldn’t stop. The scenario played out in her head. You’d go ahead and take the head off. Bleed him, gut him, dress him like a deer. Use your rope to drag four quarters of meat back to the city. Maybe eat the heart and liver yourself, right now.

The bow was cumbersome and carrying it without letting it slip up into the air and give her away slowed her more than she’d have liked. She had no idea how many seconds had passed. Twenty? Thirty? She shut off her awful imagination and focused on moving quickly and quietly to a secure position.

She was edging into a likely-looking depression behind a snow bank when Kathy’s voice startled her.

“Parnell.”

“Kathy?” He sounded shocked.

Coral raised her head. He’d be looking at Kathy, not at her. Benjamin and he were in the same position.

“Yeah, it’s me. I’m coming over there.”

Coral glanced back at Kathy. Her rifle was off her shoulder, held in one hand. She’d be able to get a shot off before Parnell could make it to his rifle, even if it was only five feet away from him. But until Benjamin was out of range of that hatchet, it’d still be a close thing.

Stringing the bow was simple. Coral got out a broad-tipped arrow and nocked it. She had her hands set, ready to draw. She’d have to get all the way to her feet to shoot it—it was that long—but she could be up in a second, and release an arrow in a second more.

She hoped it’d be fast enough.

Kathy said. “Hang on, Parnell. Don’t go for your rifle.”

“What the hell are you talking about, girl? You’re starting to worry me. Coming out here like this, off assignment. Just calm down, whatever it is that has you in a bother.”

Kathy said, “Benjamin, I want you to step away from Parnell. Ten feet should do it.”

The wheedling note went out of Parnell’s voice. He said, “You don’t know what you’re doing.”

“I know exactly what I’m doing,” Kathy said.

“We have to eat. You like eating, just as much as anyone.”

“I don’t like eating my friends.”

Coral’s eyes were on Benjamin. His eyes went wide and he leaned instinctively away from Parnell. Slowly, he got to his feet, watching Parnell closely all the while. Parnell lunged for him.

Coral stood. “Don’t touch him!” she shouted, bringing the bow up into position.

Quick as a snake, Parnell had Benjamin’s jacket collar in his hand. He pivoted Benjamin, getting him between himself and Kathy. Coral still had a shot. But she had not a single release with this bow. And her hand was starting to shake.

Kathy’s rifle came up. “Let him go,” she said. “And drop the ax.”

To Coral’s shock, the ax went sailing away. But then, before she could react, Parnell had a handgun, and he pressed it to Benjamin’s neck, as Benjamin still stumbled to regain his balance. “Safety’s off,” he yelled. “And there’s one in the chamber.”

“Knock it off, Parnell. It’s over,” Kathy said. “We’re going back to town, and if there still is a town, we’ll have a discussion about our food source. One where everyone gets to decide what to eat, eh?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he said. “You know what that’ll do to the town?”

Coral said, “It’s done. I told people. By supper last night, it was known. The town has fallen, or they’ve come to terms with it. If it were me, I’d probably string up Levi and Chef, both. And then, hell, food would be taken care of for a month, too.”

“You arrogant little girl. You know nothing.”

“I know I’m not going to let you kill my husband.”

“Is he? Your husband? I’ve always wondered.”

“He is.”

“But he doesn’t need to be. Kathy, I thought maybe you were kinda sweet on this fella. So you could solve both our problems easy.”

“How’s that?” Kathy said.

“Turn your rifle on that girl. Take her out. You get the man. We both get meat to eat.”

Kathy glanced at Coral.

Coral didn’t move. She could run. But she wouldn’t. Married by law or not, that was her partner and husband and best friend over there. She caught his eyes and held them. She hoped he could read her heart in her eyes.

She let the bowstring slide forward a few inches, hoping to ease her shakes, then pulled it back until her fingers were touching the edge of her mouth. She kept her eyes on Benjamin, and he kept his eyes on her. His look steadied her hands.

A half a minute—an eternity—later, she heard Kathy say, “Well, I don’t like her much myself. But I’m pretty sure by the way he’s looking at her, if you kill her while I stand by, he’d never be mine anyway.”

Parnell shook his head as if disappointed. Then he shuffled a half-step, the gun twitched, and he shot at Kathy.

Not a half-second behind, Kathy took her shot.

Benjamin fell.

A sound was torn from Coral’s throat. Benjamin was down. Parnell was still standing. As he swept the gun toward her, she let loose with the arrow.

It was a damned good bow. That was the only explanation Coral had for why the arrow flew so fast and true. It punched Parnell’s chest with a solid thwack. He looked down as Coral reached for another arrow.

Then Parnell fell to his knees. He keeled over.

Coral ran over and put a second arrow into him from five feet. He didn’t even flinch. The first arrow had killed him.

Benjamin was on the ground, face down, his arms over his head. She got down with a sob, grabbed him, rolled him over.

And he was looking at her. “Is it over?”

“Are you hit?”

“Hell, no. I was just getting out of your way. Crazy goddamned women.”