Chapter Ten
Snow churned in every direction—a white wall swallowing the world.
The storm had teeth, biting at exposed skin, clawing down the collar of his jacket, the cold sharp enough to sting through layers.
Dave kept his arms tight around Stone’s waist, gloved hands locked together. The warmth of the man in front of him bled through, holding back just enough of the chill.
The snowmobile bucked beneath them as Stone carved a line through the drifts, headlamps cutting tunnels of light through the storm—thin, gold-white spears swallowed almost as fast as they appeared.
“Half a click out,” Real’s voice crackled in Dave’s ear. Even through the comms, the wind roared—static and storm colliding.
He and Stone were in the lead, and he tracked the others in quick glances. Real and Rip held center; Law brought up the rear with the third snowmobile cutting through the flurries. Dave could barely make out their beams, flickering ghosts in the snow.
“Stay tight,” Stone’s voice came low, steady in his ear.
Every shift of his weight matched Stone’s balance—every motion precise, drilled into muscle memory. Emotion buried beneath it all—steady, silent, waiting.
They hit a rise and crested over, snow spraying in a bright arc. The fence line appeared ahead—a faint shimmer of metal and movement through the storm.
Stone eased off the throttle and slowed to a halt.
They had to cover the last stretch on foot.
The two lead snowmobiles pulled up and parked.
Law veered his sled to the side, just behind Real’s, and killed the engine.
The sudden silence hit hard—just wind, breathing, and the muffled roar of the storm.
He swung a leg over the seat and dropped into snow that swallowed his boots halfway to the knee.
The cold bit through even the insulated layers, needles against his skin.
Flurries stung what little skin the mask didn’t cover. Frost rimmed his goggles, breath fogging the inside with each exhale. The air burned cold, every breath a quick puff of white.
Winter didn’t bother him. He’d been born in a country colder than this—places where steel cracked and wind could flay you raw. Leaning into the gust, he trudged forward through the drifts until he reached the others.
“It’s steep,” Real said, handing him a clip that was attached to a thick rope.
Law moved up to take his place in line, clipping the metal rung onto the matching one on his snowsuit.
Real was taking the lead, then came Dave, and behind Dave was Stone.
“Don’t let me lose you,” Law said, turning to glance over his shoulder.
Rip lifted the rope, flashing the metal anchor clipped to his suit. They were all on the same line—if one went down, the others would hold.
“Just make sure you don’t trip over your own boots, Hotshot,” Rip shot back.
Law snorted, then the rope tugged—time to move. He turned his focus to the incline. It was steep and slick in all the wrong places.
Rip slipped behind him, boots skidding for a second before catching again. Ahead, Dave went down hard, but Stone had him upright in a heartbeat, hands locked under his arms.
Minutes passed with only the storm, the crunch of boots, and Law’s own breath fogging the air.
They reached the fence—where whatever it was waited—and came to a stop.
Law narrowed his eyes, stepping up beside Dave and Stone as Real moved ahead.
“I don’t see anything moving. Might be dead,” Real said, shaking his head.
Law studied the snow piled against the squared mesh. The fence stood eight feet high—tall enough to turn back most wildlife and high enough to make any deer think twice.
Something flopped in the drift. Barely. The flurries made it hard to tell, but he’d seen it.
“Hold on,” Law said, striding toward the spot where the snow shifted.
“Wait,” Rip cautioned, but Law was already down, sliding his hands—and then his arms—through the squared mesh, digging fast. The metal bit at his gloves, snow soaking through as he cleared it away.
Law glanced back at the others, goggles hiding his eyes but not the surprise in his voice.
“It’s a… It’s a—” His hand closed around something small and trembling. He lifted it clear of the drift. “Puppy.”
Snow swirled between them, the storm roaring, and no one said a word.