Chapter 50

Tyler noticed how unbalanced Logan has been. He had his brows creased into wrinkles, his palms incessantly brushing through his curly hair.

He kept dropping and Picking up his phone dialing the same number over and over.



Ashley!



It however refused to connect. The weather in Arizona was reported to be weak. Very weak, the internet didn't connect. Tyler glanced skeptically out the windshield. They were on their way to find Ashley. A foot or more of snow surrounded their well-equipped van.



"I'm guessing even four-wheel drive won't move us till the plow gets here. Why worry? We got plenty of fuel and a week's worth of food." He leaned over, pulled a bag of Cheetos out of a cupboard, and began ripping it open.



"Want some?"



Logan shook his head. "What I'd like is to get some connections between us and Ashley." Deek hooted and slapped his knees.



"You don't believe those weather reporters, do you, man?"



"Shit, no. But the snow's heavier at this elevation. The Sooner we get down, the sooner we'll move out of it."



"You can't pull one over on me. You half think it's true." Logan ignored him and peered out the snow-battered windshield, thinking he saw man-shaped shadows darting among the swirls of white. Imagination. Spooks from tales told by his Uncle.

He didn't even do the sweat lodges anymore, much less practice the old ways.




Tyler was still munching loudly, the son of a bitch vexing Logan's patience.




"Schropmt, Schrompt, Schrompt." Tyler waggled his fingers ominously, then clutched his chest.




"Help! Bigfoot's coming! Watch out! There's the ghost of Geronimo! Whoops!! Here's a tyrannosaurus rex looking for supper!"




"Knock it off, asshole." Logan snatched the speaker back up. "Unit thirteen-twelve calling Base Camp Misson."




"Hey," Tyler exclaimed, apparently losing interest in giving Logan a bad time. "The storm's easing up."




"Yeah?" Logan glanced up from the radio. Sure enough, the snowfall had ebbed to drifting flakes, and the wind had slowed. "The CB's still not getting through."




"Chill out, man." Tyler shoved out the Cheetos bag. "Sure you don't want any?"




"Maybe later." Logan slammed down the speaker, then moved the driver's seat forward and turned on the ignition. "I'm going to try to get us out of here."




As Logan shifted into gear, Tyler suddenly fanned the air around his face. Charlie pinched his nose and turned accusingly toward his friend.




"Sorry." Tyler got up and headed for the chemical toilet in the back.




"Not there, man. These are close quarters. You'd better go outside, or we'll be living with the after-effects for the entire ride."




Tyler glanced out the window, then back to the curtained-off potty area, clearly torn between two bad choices. "Even worse." His voice held resignation. "It's my guess we won't be getting out of this snow, which means we'd have to put up with it all night." He sighed heavily. "I'll probably freeze my butt off, but . . . okay. Where's the paper?"




"Under the backseat." Logan shut down the engine.



A few minutes later, Tyler, armed with a roll of Charmin and a Baggie, opened the side door. A blast of frigid air rushed into the van.



"You got a Playboy anywhere in case this takes a while?" he joked, clicking on his flashlight as he stepped outside.

"Just hurry," Logan grumbled. "And shut the freaking door. We are almost out of the heat."



"Yes, sir!" Tyler gave him a mock salute, then started for the back of the van. In seconds, all Logan could see was the light, and pretty soon even that disappeared.




• • •




Ashley totally forgot about the storm until he mentioned it.

"I need to protect them," She said vehemently.




"Ashley. There are no wolves."




"You can't say that for sure," she replied hotly. "Maybe there are. Maybe a pack's survived up here all these years. You don't know. If they have, they need my protection."




"No one can outguess the weather," he replied, plainly dismissing her concerns. "I'll take you out as soon as your health and the weather permits.

In the meantime, I want the rules clear. You have full reign in this room. Help yourself to food, add logs to the fire, whatever you need."




"I'm leaving right now, Dave. No—"



"Don't go outside after dark."



"No matter how hard—"



"It's for your safety. This is not a civilized national park. It's a wild forest land. There are dangers out there you can't imagine."



"—it's snowing."




They argued their voices intercepting each other's and no one was going to take the high road for the other.



"Didn't you hear me? I'm leaving right away!."




She moved to the door, twisted the knob and a clearer view came.




A maelstrom of black and more white. Nothing but a swirling blizzard. The wind howled. The cabin walls creaked and moaned. The roof shuddered. An icy draft swept down the chimney, creating a shiver in the licking flames.

Ashley felt the chill in her marrow.

Turning away without uttering a word, she went to the daybed and climbed beneath a warm blanket, suddenly grateful to be inside this sturdy shelter. Her head throbbed, her every muscle ached, and yes, Dave was right. The storm was a bad one, and she wasn't in any condition to go out in it.

At least not soon.




Dave just watched on like every of her action was a scene from an opera.