17. Finn
Finn
The cookhouse had clearly been home to several bears over the years. Most of the appliances had been pulled out of the walls and overturned, and there was debris scattered everywhere.
“I can’t believe this place,” Adele said when we stepped into the shop located at the edge of the bumpy, unpaved road.
It was nothing more than an enormous pole barn filled with junk.
Naturally, the lights were out. We had located the massive diesel generators in a shed behind the cookhouse, but they were long out of fuel.
Luckily, there was enough sunlight that, with the aid of a flashlight and the camera flash, we could get a sense of the place and what it contained.
Adele was in heaven, inspecting every inch of the large building while I took measurements and photos elsewhere.
After an hour, I found her still poking around, shining her flashlight and headlamp at each and every tool and gear in the place, mentally cataloging all the equipment.
I spent a moment admiring the view of her bent over, ass in the air, looking at the engine of an old car she had discovered under a tarp.
I was so busy smiling like an idiot that I missed the first crack of thunder.
“What was that?” She stood ramrod straight and pushed her hair out of her face.
Side by side, we shuffled along the dirt floor to the front of the building, where we’d left the old garage door open.
Dark clouds had settled along the horizon.
I scrambled for the sat phone I’d clipped to my belt and pulled up my weather app. “Shit,” I said, rubbing my beard as a massive storm formed on the doppler.
“What’s going on?” she asked as we stepped out of the building.
“This storm was supposed to head north to Canada. Should have missed us entirely,” I explained, tilting the screen, where a large blob of orange and red and green was moving almost directly over our location.
“You said you checked.”
“I did. I’ve checked every day this week, including this morning, and everything looked good.”
Adele planted her hands on her hips and shot me her signature glare. “What the hell?”
“I’m not Thor. I just look like him. I can’t control the weather, no matter what you might think.”
Her glare only deepened into a scowl. She did not enjoy my joke. “You wish you looked like Thor. You’re like Thor’s dollar store second cousin. The one everyone dreads having to invite to Thanksgiving.”
“Doesn’t matter.” I shrugged, zooming in on the doppler radar for a better look. “What matters is that a big storm is coming.”
“Do not tell me we’re gonna fly that tin can in a lightning storm.”
I shook my head, my heart picking up speed only a fraction. “I could do it, but I’d rather not. Looks like it’ll last a few hours. We can wait it out.”
She eyed me from head to toe, that mouth still turned down, until an earsplitting crack made both of us jump. Not fifty yards from where we stood, a tree split, and branches and splinters were falling to the ground.
“Shit.” Adele shuffled back until she was sheltered by the roof of the building. “Lightning.”
Still a bit shaken, I assessed her. Her eyes were wide, and her skin had gone ghostly. Dammit, she was scared.
“We’ll be okay. We’ve got plenty of shelter.”
“I’m not afraid of lightning, dumbass,” she said, closing her eyes like she truly couldn’t handle my idiocy. “I’m afraid of being stuck in the woods with your useless ass.”
“C’mon. Let’s grab supplies from the plane,” I said, turning on my heel and taking off toward the makeshift runway where I had landed. She followed, keeping pace as I jogged.
I climbed onto the wing to access the rear of the fuselage and threw down a large duffel and a heavy waterproof trunk.
When I hopped back down, she was already holding the duffel, so I grabbed the trunk and nodded toward the building, signaling that I’d follow her lead.
Once we crossed the threshold, I dropped the trunk and grasped the bottom edge of the industrial garage door. It resisted at first, but I gave it a strong tug, using all my weight, and finally, it budged, letting out a screech on its way down.
She flicked on her headlamp as I unzipped the duffel and pulled out a pink lantern that belonged to Merry.
“What is this stuff?” Adele asked from behind me.
“All bush pilots are legally required to carry certain survival supplies,” I explained, peering over my shoulder at her.
“This trunk is equipped with a medic kit, a raft, an axe, some MREs, a water purifier, and a sleeping bag.” I punched in the code to unlock it and threw open the lid.
“The duffel has snacks, batteries, more flashlights and a blanket.”
I flipped on my headlamp and sifted through the contents of the duffel next. Once I’d found a granola bar for each of us, I pulled an old wooden bench over to sit on.
She took the granola bar I held out to her and studied the wrapper like it held the secrets to the universe.
“Why are you so relaxed?” Her hair was bunched up around the strap of her headlamp. It was adorable. “We’re stranded in the woods in the middle of a fucking lightning storm. A tree could fall and crush us.”
I took a bite of my granola bar and studied her for a long moment before responding. “We’re in a building.”
“An old, shitty building with a metal roof. There are probably more mice in residence here than there are people in the state of Maine.”
I couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. “Didn’t figure you for the high-maintenance type.”
Beside me, her eyes narrowed. God, I loved to rile her up. “I’m not high maintenance. I’m concerned. You flew us to the middle of nowhere in the middle of a biblical fucking storm. Why wouldn’t I be a little worried?”
I leaned forward, resting my forearms on my thighs, and dropped my head between my shoulders.
Damn, all of a sudden, I was tired. It had already been a long day, and now I had to contend with two equally terrifying adversaries: Mother Nature and Adele Gagnon.
Given the choice, I’d take my chances with the former, but I had no such luck today.
“I’m not happy about this either. Do you think I want to be here? Hell no. You act like I planned this.”
“You said you were tracking the weather,” she snapped.
I shook my head with a huff. Dammit. If she was crazy enough to think I did this on purpose, then there was no reasoning with her.
“Are you shitting me? That plane is all I have in this world, and I’m terrified it’ll be damaged out there.
” I threw an arm out in the direction of the runway.
“This is the last place I want to be. But I’ve had training, and I know it’s better to stay cool and assess the situation than it is to freak out and shriek like a banshee. ”
She had yet to sit on the bench. She stood a couple of yards from me with her arms crossed over her chest and her feet planted wide. Our headlamps were pointing directly at one another, and the light illuminated the way her chest rose and fell with each angry breath.
Sure, this situation wasn’t ideal, but we had shelter and a satellite phone and snacks. It could be so much worse. Hell, I’d lived through a lot worse.
“You can shit-talk me and yell all you want. Won’t change the fact that we’re stuck here until this passes.”
Her face was stony and her body was rigid, sending me a clear message to go away. But I was a stubborn bastard and couldn’t stop myself.
“Sit down and eat your snack. Let’s make the best of this.”
“We don’t have to speak” was her response.
“True,” I said with a dip of my chin. “But it will make this more pleasant. Let’s get to know each other.”
She scoffed and took a step back. “I already know everything I need to know about you.”
Rolling my shoulders, I worked out the tightness in my neck. If I was going to go ten rounds with She-Ra, I needed to loosen up.
“Former military, so you’ve got good posture and crave discipline. But you’ve got some lingering authority issues, hence the long hair and tats.”
She wasn’t wrong on that front.
“Daddy issues, clearly. And you’re an adrenaline junky.
You hate standing still and get itchy when you feel stuck.
You’re always looking for the next adventure, the next challenge.
” She cocked a knowing brow and took a step closer.
“I’ll bet you don’t read or watch TV to relax.
That probably makes you feel twitchy. I’d wager that you physically exhaust yourself for fun. ”
My heart tripped, and my chest went tight. Damn. Was I that easy to read? Or could she see me in a way that no one ever had? I felt more exposed and raw listening to her than I had in years.
“You’re a devoted father. But when it comes to women, you’re a commitment-phobe. Probably the casual hookup type. You get bored easily, and you’re always ready to move on to the next shiny object that catches your attention.”
“That’s where you’re wrong.” I sat up straight, holding back the well of indignation rising up in me.
“I never date and I never hook up. I’m looking for something real and special,” I confessed, averting my focus to the floor between us.
“And since that’s impossible to find, I’m good with being alone. ”
My admission was met with silence, so I mustered my resolve and dragged my gaze back to her face.
For a moment, just a fraction of a second, I swore understanding swam in her eyes, but in an instant, the look had morphed back into one of hatred.
In that tiny window, though, when her guard was down, it almost looked like there was a little bit of relief mingled with the understanding.
Like she’d realized her assumption was wrong. And maybe she was happy about it.
I saw her too. I saw the tough, angry facade she showed the world. And I saw the thoughtful, loving woman underneath. The one who went out of her way to care for every member of her crew. Who doted on that feral dog. Who’d defended Merry and me when no one else would.
I stood, and the dusty old air shifted around us. “But by all means, continue to believe what you want. You’re clearly great at that.”