Chapter Twelve #2
After she disappeared through the snow, Jiro spent many moments contemplating his fate.
She was going out to save his life yet again, and all he could do was lie here and shiver.
The least he could do was try to survive long enough to thank her.
So he slowly and painfully got to his knees, pulled his beanie off and his wet fleece and then the thermal shirt over his head.
The icy breeze sliced into his bare skin, and he could barely move his arms to pull on Aurora's jacket. It was too tight, but even though the front section was damp inside, her body warmth remained in the fabric, and it was the most euphoric feeling he’d ever had.
He hugged her jacket tightly around him, sucking in every bit of heat he could, and drawing in the smell of Aurora, her essence.
She’d told him to take off all his clothes, but his numb fingers were incapable of undoing his pants or bootlaces.
So he left both of them on for now. Remembering what Aurora had told him, he lay back down on the ice, and rolled himself into the Mylar blanket, like a caterpillar in a cocoon.
It didn’t stop his teeth chattering, however.
And he knew his thought processes had slowed right down; it was like he was thinking in slow motion.
If Aurora came and told him he had to run for his life right now, he wasn’t sure he would be able.
But he left his legs free of his cocoon just in case.
All he really wanted to do was close his eyes. Sleep was calling to him. But he knew that was dangerous, probably a sign of hypothermia. So he rubbed his arms inside his cocoon, even though it seemed to make no difference; he didn’t feel like he was getting any warmer.
It was quiet. Too quiet. He hadn’t heard any more gunshots, but wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.
He needed to know what was going on. With a groan, he hauled himself up to sitting, then wriggled forward until he could peep over the top of the snowy layer.
Nothing moved out in the sea of white. Where was Aurora?
He couldn’t see her anywhere, and he tried to follow the trail she’d left as she crawled through the snow, but it soon blurred and disappeared into the whiteness.
She could be anywhere between him and the lake edge.
Suddenly, a figure emerged from behind a tree right out on the end of the land jutting into the lake. He raised his gun to his shoulder, and Jiro ducked just as a bullet whistled overhead. Fuck, the guy had spotted him. Aurora had been right to tell him to keep his head down.
He lay down again, teeth still chattering, praying that the man had gone back behind the tree.
It was deathly quiet, only the sighing sound of a rising breeze shifting the snow like they were grains of sand broke the silence.
The quiet stretched on and on until it all became too much.
He needed to take one more look. This time he would be more careful.
As cautious as a church mouse, he inched his head up until his eye was just above the snow, and then he quickly popped down again.
Shit. The man was making a beeline straight for him across the ice.
Stupidly, he’d given away his position by wanting to know what was going on.
But where was Aurora? Should he call out to her?
No, because if she answered it would give away her position too and alert the man to the fact they were no longer together—if he didn’t already know.
What should he do? He got awkwardly to his knees, the Mylar blanket rustling around him.
Would the guy be able to hear that? Perhaps he should drop the blanket.
Make a run for it like he had before. But no, that’d ended in disaster, he had to stay here and trust that Aurora would handle this.
He popped his head up again and saw that the guy was closer now. Another bullet buzzed into the snow nearby as he dived for cover. This guy was deadly serious. He was out to murder them both.
All of a sudden, three gunshots rang out in succession.
Taking a chance, Jiro peeked over again in time to see the man take two stumbling steps, then turn toward the direction the bullets had come.
Aurora stood about fifty meters away from him, closer to the shoreline.
She had her arms raised, gun pointed in his direction.
She must’ve been hiding there all along, jumping up and taking him my surprise from behind.
Had she hit the guy? Jiro wasn’t sure, because if she had it didn’t seem to stop him.
He began to run toward her, raising his rifle as he did so.
Aurora didn’t flinch, however, firing off two more shots from her weapon.
Jiro wasn’t sure what happened first; the man seemed to falter, but then suddenly he just disappeared.
As if he had fallen through the ice.
Which was exactly what’d happened.
Jiro got to his knees, preparing to stand up, but Aurora sent him a look that made him stay where he was.
Without lowering the gun, she stalked slowly toward where the man had disappeared, lifting her knees high to get through the virgin snow, testing every step before she took it.
He couldn’t take his eyes off her, off the scene unfolding in front of him.
At last she reached the spot where the man had fallen in.
He watched as she leaned down, weapon still held in one hand, but he couldn’t see what she was doing with the layer of snow blocking his view.
Finally, she straightened and tucked the gun into her shoulder holster.
He took that as a sign it was safe and stood up.
Aurora made her way toward him.
“Is he dead?” Jiro asked. She merely nodded in reply, her face grim.
As she got closer, he could see she was nearly as cold as he was.
Her teeth were chattering, and she wrapped her arms around her body.
She’d been lying in the snow on the ice with only a sweater to keep out the biting cold.
It seemed they were both in danger of suffering hypothermia now.
Before he could open his mouth and ask how the man had died—was it by gunshot or drowning—she said, “We’re going to head toward that cabin over there.
” She lifted her hand and pointed behind his right shoulder.
“Our priority now is to get warm, and we can’t stay out here.
Can you walk?” Stopping in front of him, she studied his face.
He studied her in return. Dark eyes were wide and alert, her mouth was a grim line in her pale features.
She’d just shot a man—probably killed him—and her main priority even now was to keep him alive.
“Of course I can,” he replied, lifting his chin.
He wanted to stop her and ask the same thing; she was shaking like a leaf.
But it was perhaps as much a reaction to the adrenaline as to the cold, so he didn’t question her.
They would be warmer if they could both wrap themselves in the blanket, but that would make walking across the thigh-deep snow almost impossible.
And he knew without asking that she wouldn’t accept the blanket if he offered it to her, so he gritted his teeth and kept quiet.
“Where is your phone?” she asked suddenly, the question taking him by surprise.
“Umm, it was in the front pocket of my jacket.” He pointed to the pile of clothing lying on the ice. He wondered if it would still be working after being dunked in the freezing water. She rummaged around until she found it.
“I’m turning it off,” she announced. “I don’t want to give that bastard any more chances to track us.” It was a good idea, and he wished he’d thought of it. They might not have reception out here right now, but you never knew.
“We need to make it back to the deer tracks, that will be the safest route,” she said, gathering up his wet clothes, and barely stopping to tuck them under her arm, before she took off in the direction of the opposite side of the lake.
They were about midway, perhaps a little closer to the other side, but to Jiro, it looked like they were going to walk to the ends of the Earth.
But he was going to make it to that cabin if it killed him.
It took them fifteen excruciating minutes to get to the other side.
By that time, his teeth had stopped chattering.
Perhaps the exertion had warmed him up a bit, even though he still felt frozen through, the Mylar blanket flapping around him as he walked.
All the while he had kept his gaze focused on the red dot partially hidden by the trees.
He was eternally grateful for the Swedish tradition of painting their houses and cabins a very particular red color.
Instead of blending into the environment, they stood out, which was a blessing for them today.
Aurora led them carefully across the danger zone near the edge of the lake, where the ice was often thinner, and then they trudged up the slight incline and into the trees. “Do you know who owns this place?” he asked, but realized even as he phrased the question how silly it was.
“No. But whoever they are, I’m sure they won’t mind if we use it to save our lives,” she replied with a grim smile.
Jiro was totally shocked when Aurora stomped up the two stairs to the little front entrance and calmly swung the door open. “It’s not locked?” He’d been expecting her to have to break in.