105
The last drop point before the finish line has already been raided by the time Thorun and I reach it, and I hug Thorun close as she bursts into tears.
It’s been a fortnight since Jag’s visit, and while I still have some of the bag of jubes he’d pushed into my hand before he left because Thorun and I have been rationing them, our fish supply ran out more than a week ago.
The only other thing we have left that could be called half-edible is one small stick of beef jerky from Claire’s bag, but we’d agreed we’d only eat that as a last resort if we couldn’t move any further for some reason, or if we were starving to death.
“It’s at least a three-week walk to the finish line at our current pace,” I finally say to Thorun, wiping her wet cheeks on my sleeve before her tears freeze to her face, “and you and I both know we don’t have the energy to do it. As it is, we’re walking like old women.”
“We need food,” she nods, “and the snow starting last night means we also need to build a more substantial shelter. Claire’s tent won’t do even with the double layer from our tarpaulin. My toes are already feeling the signs of frostbite after walking all day.”
“Then I guess we need to stop. We’ll need to get to work on a shelter straight away.”
“You start on that,” she says quietly, “you know best how to build something that won’t fall down around our ears. It has to be strong enough to withstand heavy snowfall. I’ll hunt us something. At this point, even though I hate to say it, I’ll even eat a squirrel.”
“I’d literally inhale a squirrel right now,” I smirk, “but you said you saw Moose signs. Can you imagine a roast right now? God! How do you catch a Moose?”
“Moose can be dangerous; it’s not easy. We’d have to dig a pit along a regularly used trail, like the ones we crossed on the way here. Then line the pit with sharp stakes, camouflage it, and just hope a big, old stupid moose falls into it.”
“That’ll take a lot of time and energy,” I sigh, “and this isn’t a safe place to separate while you hunt. Another competitor could be behind us; they’ll reach this drop zone sooner or later.”
“I can’t go further, Cat. If Cherry claimed Silke’s death, then she’s probably way ahead. I’ll bet she’s the one who raided this site.”
“Maybe,” I frown, “but that means Miranda needs to eliminate either you or me. We can’t discount that she isn’t ahead of us and waiting for us to catch up, or behind us and hunting us right now.”
“She might kill Cherry,” Thorun suggests hopefully.
“You'd better hope that doesn’t happen,” I scowl. “You need to kill Miranda. Or I need to kill her, and you claim Claire’s death. Either way, one of us has to end her.”
“Or I have to murder you in your sleep,” Thorun says in a fake homicidal tone.
“Sì,” I snort, “you can always execute the plan you had from day one.”
She giggles, and I shake my head.
“Cherry might already be at the finish line,” I sigh. “But whether Miranda is ahead or behind, sooner or later we’ll have to make a stand. Given that we need to rebuild our strength and our food stocks, it might as well be here.”
“Yes,” she nods. “I think it’s best we stop here.”
Pulling out the last of the jubes from my pocket, we share them, and I feel like Jag’s with us as I ruminate on our best strategy.
‘His sweets. I wonder if he knew how much we truly needed and appreciated them. I wonder if he knows how I think of him whenever I eat one. How, even now when I fall asleep, I’m thinking about how safe his arms felt.
I wonder where he is now? If he’s still somewhere out in the forest, hunting Asumpta.
I wonder how he’ll feel killing someone who loves him. ’
I shake my head and stop my stupid thoughts, the same ones I’ve had for weeks now.
Thoughts about his kisses, holding his hands, the feeling he gave me when he sucked my blood.
Thoughts that terrify me. And other equally disturbing thoughts, like knowing he can torture someone he’s aware loves him, and how much easier it will be for him to eliminate someone who’s avowed she doesn’t want love.
Right now, surviving this trial has to be my focus.
“So, I guess we’ll work on starting a fire and a proper cabin now. In the coming days when we have more energy we can dig a moose trap, and you can plot how to murder me.”
As she pops the last jube in her mouth the snow starts again, heavier than it has ever been before.
Taking off her pack, she holds out a hand to me and offers our last reserves.
“Jerky?”
“You take it,” I shake my head, “I’m not hungry right now.”