Cover Me

chapter 4



Sunny screamed.

Horror raked up her throat as dead eyes peered at her through a thin sheet of ice and snow. Not just any eyes. Madison’s eyes. The woman she’d escorted through the pass just yesterday.

She clasped her throat, right where the gash gaped across Madison’s severed carotid. The dead woman’s blonde hair fanned around her. The fatal wound was outlined in crystallized drops of frozen blood, as if rusty red tears wept from her neck.

The screams kept coming and she couldn’t make them stop even as each panicked wheeze froze in her lungs. Wade clamped a hand over her mouth just as he’d covered her lips with his moments ago in that unwise, out-of-control kiss.

Oh God, they’d been kissing beside a dead body. Nausea gagged her.

“Careful,” he said softly, urgently. “Too much noise could cause an avalanche.”

His whispered warning launched hysteria at the possibility of being buried alive—with Madison.

What had happened? Where was Ted? And the sheriff’s deputy? Questions dog-piled inside her, shredding through her already raw emotions with vicious teeth.

Her brain went into hyperdrive. Ted and Madison must have been caught in the storm too. Although very clearly she’d been murdered. By whom? A squatter? And where were Ted and the deputy?

God, if she’d thought to look for Ted and Madison the minute the storm started, maybe she would have found her before this.

Or she could be right there under the ice, waxy and dead just like her friend.

Hysteria bubbled until her cries gurgled, much like Madison must have choked on her own blood.

“Sunny? It’s okay,” he continued softly, sliding his arm around her shoulders. “It’s all right. I know the first time you see a dead body it’s scary as hell. I wish I could say it gets better, but it doesn’t. You just learn to hold back the reaction until the crisis passes. And we need to do that now. We need to function so we can get out of here.”

She forced herself to take slow, even breaths, to push cold oxygen and reason to her stunned brain. “Okay. I hear you.”

“Good, now we have to get out of here and make our way to a better pickup zone so my team can bring us in. Then we can notify the authorities about this person so they can work on an ID and notifying the family.”

He didn’t realize she knew Madison. Her secret was safe for a while longer… Except she needed to know about Ted and the deputy, no matter the cost. “What if there’s someone with her? Shouldn’t we look around?”

“On the off chance? Even though a rescue team could get us out of here, it’s a volatile place to hang out.” He looked at the frozen face, then around the narrow crevasse about twenty feet from the edge above. “She was probably with the original group we rescued. They were so disoriented when we rescued them we never could get a solid count as to whether it was four climbers and a guide, or four people total.”

He squinted up toward the horizon, his face alert. “And if that’s the case, then we need to be careful, because there’s a murderer out there somewhere.”

Her teeth started to chatter from the cold and fear. The fall too, maybe. But her body was definitely going into shock.

He squeezed her shoulder. For comfort? More likely to make sure she couldn’t get away. “Come on. She’s not going anywhere, and we need to think smart.”

She couldn’t hide or play word games anymore. Not with Ted’s life at stake. “I know her. She’s not with the other team, and she must have been murdered recently. Sometime after yesterday morning.” She swallowed hard. “I do guide work and I was out helping her meet up with another, uh, guide today. She had a partner, Ted.”

Her voice cracked with emotion. Damn it, she was stronger than this. But the exhaustion, the horror of seeing Madison, thinking of her friend’s dream to attend college, remembering how she’d always made homemade granola for the whole community at Christmas… It was all too much.

Wade stared into her eyes for four toe-numbing seconds—deciding if she was a party to this horror?—before shaking his head. “Right. You’re good at making crap up, but I’m not letting you run again. If there’s someone else out there, then my team can track him.”

“But what about Ted? The deputy?”

“My first priority is to get you out of here alive. Now let’s go.” He pulled a knife from his boot and began carving a toehold out of the ice.

“I’m not a child.”

“I noticed,” he said, then continued without missing a beat. “We need to haul our asses back up out of this gorge. Are you going to help me dig out some handholds or not?”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.” She pulled out her survival knife.

“Shit.”

His curse stopped her. “What?”

He slapped a hand against the ice, his shoulders braced in resignation as he looked down, giving her only a scant second’s warning before he said, “I think I just found Ted.”

***



Misty sat cross-legged in front of the computer screen at Sunny’s place, wondering how long it would be before she could email with Madison or Ted. The computer booted up—God love the hydropower from the volcanic hot springs that generated electricity whenever the solar panels were drained due to longer nights.

Internet access wasn’t widespread around here. Satellite connections could be iffy, depending on the weather. But thanks to a deal Sunny had cut with the sheriff’s office, they had Internet at her business and at the library that also served as the school. On the rare occasion when there was some kind of hookup or membership fee or info required, Deputy Smith helped them out. He was a good guy that way.

Since her older sister was running behind, their brother had opened today, and he would rather work out than play on the Internet. Which left Misty free to use one of the two computers tucked by the snack counter that served muffins and granola.

The bright gym full of windows was just coming to life with the early-morning crowd. The metal grate was still rolled down in front of the juice bar, but the Everett twins—Flynn and Ryker—lumbered out of the locker room without speaking, ready to pump iron after their early start running snowplows.

Over on the small stage, Lindsay, the substitute aerobics instructor, toyed with the sound system, increasing the bass reverb until the floor buzzed under Misty’s feet. Lindsay—a former classmate—was also a first-year art teacher at the village school who taught first grade all the way through to twelfth. And as if that wasn’t enough, she was four months pregnant with her first baby by the younger Everett twin. Lindsay’s life was moving forward, while Misty’s stagnated.

She spun her seat back toward the computer, away from Lindsay’s growing tummy.

Still no messages on the computer. Bummed, she tugged at her purple hemp sweater, wrapping it closer around her in the chilly gym. It was probably too early to expect anything from Madison, but Misty couldn’t help watching, wondering, hungry for anything about how someone from here would adapt to the world outside. A world she would be joining soon.

Madison had promised to update her, even send photos of their new place once they got settled. When community members left, they always sent messages at first, but the notes faded away over time as they got wrapped up in their busy new lives.

She wouldn’t be that way, though, once she left. Even if she couldn’t come back, she had to hear about her family’s lives and she hoped they would want to know about hers. She would never stop praying that they would join her.

Or at least understand her reasons for leaving.

The cursor blinked on the computer screen. Still no new messages in her mailbox. It would probably be a while before they got their place set up, but they’d promised she could stay with them. Ted’s family had money. They would be so happy to have him back in the family fold, they would probably do anything he asked.

She resisted the urge to cross her fingers under the table. She was an adult now, for crying out loud. Twenty-two years old last week. Able to go out on her own.

It was rare to have community members leave twice in a week. For the most part, people were happy here. Decisions to live off-the-grid didn’t come lightly. There was a lot of preparation to do ahead of time, things to learn. Although in her case, she’d been a kid.

So there was a whole other aspect of facing the unknown beyond their mountain valley.

Would it be like on television? With so many satellite channels to choose from, she felt like she had a solid image of the outside world—they weren’t hermits here. Just insular. She’d soaked up reruns of everything from Sex in the City to Law & Order to True Blood.

Everything moved so fast, so bright. She couldn’t wait to be a part of it all. She couldn’t wait to meet him, Brett, face-to-face. She tapped in the Web address for the online dating site… and oh God, he was online, waiting for her just like he’d promised.

The instant message icon blinked. Her heartbeat sped up a notch.

Brett: Morning, beautiful.



Misty: Less than a week til we meet in person.



Brett: Reservations r made.



Her shadowy reflection on the screen grinned back at her. He’d promised to take her to Prince William Sound for a day cruise where they could see orcas, porpoises, eagles, otters, and puffers together. Next February, he would take her to the Fur Rondy in Anchorage, billed as the largest festival in North America. In March, they could watch the Iditarod dogsled race finish.

The way he talked about being together nearly a year from now gave her hope she hadn’t dared store up in a long time. Together they would experience the adventures she’d been craving since her illness.

Misty: Just want to see you in person rather than pictures.



Although his profile photos showed a megahot thirty-nine-year-old guy. Photos of Brett standing beside a Cessna. Brett holding up a string of fish with his parka open to reveal a broad chest. Brett in a suit, holding his niece during her baptism.

The images came together for an athletic, sensitive man with a sexy groomed beard. She couldn’t believe she’d found him online. He said he worked long hours as an airplane mechanic. Couple that with the higher male-to-female ratio in Alaska, and he’d decided to give online dating at try.

Brett: Feels like I know you already. Can’t wait to hear your voice.



Her hand flew to her throat, a nervous habit she’d picked up around four years ago. She chewed her bottom lip, deciding what to say next.

Misty: Sorry it’s taken me so long. Can’t be helped. Leaving my hometown is… complicated.



Brett: Alaska is a big state. We’ll work it out.



No kidding. Alaska had a landmass the size of Texas, California, and Montana combined. Sometimes she felt absorbed by the vastness of it all.

As much as she wished to be from somewhere else, she’d been up-front with Brett about living in America’s last frontier, telling him their remote town had post office box numbers for emergencies. This wasn’t a cult with freaky rituals, just a group of people committed to living off the land as much as possible.

Actually, she looked forward to carrying a lot of that knowledge and mind-set with her out into the world. Not that she was rejecting her hometown, merely embracing a new one because there were limitations to living here. She forced her hand away from her neck and back to the keyboard.

Misty: What if you’re disappointed by me?



Brett: Not possible.



Misty: You don’t know all the problems that come with being with someone like me.



The cursor blink, blink, blinked so long, her heart sped faster. A message popped up.

Brett: Do you want to back out on meeting?



Misty: No! Just afraid you’ll be sorry.



The cursor blinked and blinked as she waited for his answer. Finally…

Brett: Sometimes you gotta take a leap of faith. Either you’re in or you’re not.



Misty: I’m only scared.



Brett: Don’t want to frighten you. Trust me.



Trust. It seemed like all she did was trust other people to lead her through life. She wanted to be in charge for a change, no longer the absentminded tomboy, the needy sister. Rather she would be a take-charge woman.

A hand tapped her on the shoulder.

Gasping, she jolted. Even four years after losing her hearing, she still wasn’t accustomed to the shock of having someone sneak up on her. She was getting better at coping strategies, like feeling a slight tremble in the floor or gust from an opening door, but she’d apparently let herself become too absorbed in her online conversation.

Thank God for her sister’s dogged insistence on expanding their Internet capabilities, because here, at least, Misty had no limitations.

She spun, careful that her back covered the computer screen, and found her older brother with his wife. Astrid stood closer, while Phoenix hung back by the door with his year-old son strapped to his chest in a BabyBjörn. An image of Brett holding his baby niece flashed into her mind. She wanted that for herself, and that wouldn’t happen for her here.

Take charge. Pioneer her own future. She mentally recited her new mantra.

She held up a hand asking them to hold on for a second and turned back to the computer to type.

Misty: Gotta sign off. More later. Love.



Love. She shivered. Could she love someone she’d never met in person?

As she turned back to Astrid, Misty scratched her neck, not because of any itch but to gauge her voice by the vibrations against her fingertips. “Yes?”

Astrid dropped into a chair beside her, her face scrunched with worry and exhaustion. The former New York teen model wore her platinum blonde hair in a lopsided ponytail and her gray sweatshirt was dotted with what looked like pureed carrots.

The new mother had left behind a potential seven-figure career and fame ten years ago to join their community. “Have you seen Sunny?”

“Not since she left yesterday.” One hand still against her throat, she fidgeted with her own shoulder-length brown hair. Would Brett prefer it longer? Chemically highlighted? Maybe even with a bold steak of color like Sunny’s? “But you know how she is.”

“Damn.” She hitched the quilted diaper bag onto her shoulder, always careful to keep her face toward Misty for lip-reading. “I was hoping she could take my lunch shift at the snack bar so I could take J.T. for his well-baby checkup, and Phoenix has a class to teach.”

Clinic appointments were tight since one of their nurse practitioners had left last fall, determined to become a doctor. What a loss that she couldn’t come back. The rigidness of the city council’s rules made her want to scream. Silently of course.

“I can take your shift. I promise to be extra careful in taking the orders, no mistakes, even if I have to make them write down what they want.” She was weary with everyone cosseting her. She’d worked so hard to accommodate for the deafness that had resulted from a fierce case of meningitis, and still everyone babied her.

Her smile wobbly, Astrid hugged her hard and fast, diaper bag swinging around to thump them both. The scent of baby clung to her sister-in-law’s clothes. Did she even know how lucky she was?

Pulling back, Astrid scrunched her nose. “Sorry. I forget sometimes. I just wanted to say thank you for helping, and I wish there was some way to pay you back.”

Hopefully Astrid could help Phoenix understand why she had to go. It was so much easier for Sunny to stick it out here. She had options.

When the boundaries of their community became too constrictive for her, she hiked into the mountains, teaching survival courses. Camped. Kayaked.

But Sunny wouldn’t miss saying good-bye. Of that Misty was sure. If only Sunny could be the one to escort her out instead of their brother—their half brother, rather. Phoenix’s biological mom had died when he was two, then their dad remarried…

Misty watched him stride away and sit on a stationary bike, baby strapped to his chest while he started his workout. Phoenix didn’t talk much, but he was a good father. She couldn’t remember a time when her brother hadn’t been quiet, almost like a ghost from one of their grandmother’s Yupik legends.

Astrid waved a hand in front of her eyes, snapping her fingers. Misty jerked and turned fast.

“Sorry. I was daydreaming.”

Facing her, Astrid tapped the top of the computer. “You never have to worry about bad breath with an Internet boyfriend.”

“Not funny.”

“But true.” She leaned closer to clasp Misty’s hands. “You can do better than this.”

“Here? With all of a half dozen guys that are even remotely appropriate for me to pick from? No thanks.”

“Lindsay’s brother Jayden would treat you like a queen. He’s obviously adored you since he got here two years ago.”

“Be real. He adores my boobs.” She clapped her hands over her D-cups, which had filled out by junior high. “He’s never even looked me in the eyes once. Not to mention, he cheated on his last two girlfriends.” An unforgivable sin in her eyes. “He’s just running out of women to screw over, since he’s plowing through the females in this town so fast.”

“Okay, you could have a point.” Astrid tugged a bib apron from her backpack and slung it over her neck for her breakfast shift at the shop. The oatmeal-colored fabric hid the carrot stains and transformed her into a professional barista.

Misty helped her wrap the tie around twice until she could knot it in the front. “And seriously, what a dumb ass. This is such a small community, it’s not like anything’s a secret. Did he actually expect to get away with it? Twice?” She gave the knot a final tug, her hand gravitating back up to her throat. “I can’t hide here forever. I want a life like other people have. Like you have.”

Astrid’s face lit with the sympathy that was all too common around here since Misty’s illness, looks she could only erase if she left here. Her parents were dead now, gone in a car accident. Her brother was married with a family of his own. Sunny had her business.

There was nothing left to keep her here. Why couldn’t they support her need to start her own life? She would honor their decision to keep this place quietly under the radar, but it was their choice to cut off contact with everyone else. Her going didn’t have to be the end of their relationship.

But she was willing to accept those consequences if that’s what it cost to leave. To have access to medical technology that would never reach this far. She didn’t blame her parents for the meningitis caught and treated almost too late.

But she wouldn’t let anyone keep her from the surgery that could restore the hearing she’d lost.

Tears stung her eyes and she massaged her throat to check for vibrations and make sure no sob sounds slid free. How much longer would she be able to talk understandably if she didn’t get a cochlear implant? How strange did her voice sound already after almost four years without hearing herself?

She studied Astrid’s mouth but she wasn’t speaking, her lips didn’t move. Even though Astrid was good about keeping her face where Misty could always see it during conversations, so much was still lost in translation. Lip-reading only worked for about 50 percent of the words, even though she was meticulous about watching not only the lips, but also the tongue, teeth, cheeks, and neck, as well as facial expressions and gestures. It had been so damn exhausting at first on top of the grief.

So many sounds she’d taken for granted before and now missed with an ache so deep, she felt a part of her life had been amputated. Maybe if she didn’t know what she was missing… Maybe…

Unable to hold back the flood of emotion, she shot to her feet. “See you at lunchtime. I gotta go.”

Misty snagged her parka off the back of her chair and raced for the entrance by instinct, her sight blurred, further locking her away in a world with limited senses. She slammed through the front doors and burst outside, leaving behind the musty, sweaty scent of the gym. The crisp outdoors enveloped her, the smell of the pure mountain air even more intoxicating since she’d lost her hearing. Still, it wasn’t enough to replace what had been taken from her.

Blinking fast and swiping an arm across her cheeks, she cleared her eyes until Main Street—the only street, really—took shape again. Stores and homes were built in tiered levels, notched into a ridge, conforming to the natural dips and rises of the mountainside. Her parents had owned the whitewashed building across and at the end of the road and she still lived there with her brother and family since their parents had died two years ago.

Twenty-two and still living at home, unlike Sunny who had a loft apartment in the log cabin that housed her business.

She stepped out onto the road and felt the vibration under her feet. She looked up sharply just as a rusted Reva screeched to a halt an inch away from hitting her. She held up a hand in apology to the electric car’s driver.

Come summertime, snow would melt away to open bike trails for even more traffic. Frozen lakes would thaw and fast fill with kayaks. But she wouldn’t hear the gurgle of the water or the laughter from the boats.

It was a perpetual vacation, and some thought she was crazy to leave. She already planned to search out a more open community after her surgery. Surely she could find one, with over two hundred thousand families living off-the-grid in the United States these days.

Surely Brett would join her.

Hands stuffed in her parka pockets, she tromped through the sludge on the sidewalks. Why did it have to be such a big deal because she wanted to leave, to have surgery, to have a future with Brett? He could come here, but that still wouldn’t help her, not in the way she needed. It was so unfair that life made her choose between being with her family and regaining her hearing.

She thought of the chubby-cheeked nephew she would never see grow up. Adult choices sucked. Not that she really had much of a choice. She had to leave this place to receive a cochlear implant, and the longer she waited, the tougher those good-byes would become—and the lower her chances of success would be with the procedure.

The local doctor assured her she was a good candidate. She’d been born with her hearing, only losing it nearly four years ago during the bout of meningitis. While they had a hospital here, the facility wasn’t specialized enough for the procedure.

She had no choice but to leave, and leave soon. Even though Sunny was the best guide, there were others who could escort her down. Still, Misty couldn’t bring herself to leave until Sunny came back. She had to say good-bye to her sister.

And then she would follow Madison and Ted’s path out of this place forever.

***



Brett downloaded the data received during the latest chat with Misty. Sometimes things were just too easy. He had Misty right where he wanted her, and his hired help from the local sheriff’s office was taking care of the messier details on the mountain. He was perfectly positioned halfway between civilization and no-man’s-land.

Clicking through the commands to file and save, Brett finished with a final tap, then spun in the leather chair to face the four-paned window. From his third-floor tiny office in the Alaska Peninsula Power Plant, he could overlook Bristol Bay in the distance, imagining it feeding into the Bering Sea. Fishing boats dotted the thawing waters along the peninsula that led to the Aleutian Islands.

And here he sat, in the perfect position to use the untapped potential of one of those islands. Far enough away from the scrutiny of major cities like Anchorage or Fairbanks, but not completely isolated on one of those godforsaken islands.

How naïve for Misty and her friends to think they could live off-the-grid as if the rest of the world didn’t exist. The world was too global, even in the remotest corners of Alaska. Those who grabbed control first, those who created opportunity out of even a barren wasteland, the kingdom builders like himself… They would survive in the end.

Above all, Brett was a survivor.

Communicating with Misty had offered the perfect means to install keylogger software into her computer, which in turn spiderwebbed into the community’s mainframe. The inside contact would be sure they couldn’t run the kind of advanced scan needed to detect the program.

Every keystroke made on their computers was logged and sent in daily emails to Brett. No one slipped anything past the keylogger. Printouts were made and checked for cooperation, for dissent. There was no room for mistakes.

The insular community had been all too easy to infiltrate, manipulate. What would young Misty think if she knew her own little society was corruptible? He’d only needed to figure out which ones to tempt with the promise of feeding an ecoterrorist agenda. Those corruptible few were the truly bloodthirsty ones, as the world would know four days from now.

How easy it was to fool people through a computer. With an Internet connection and some help from his hired goon in the sheriff’s office, Brett could pretend to be anyone on this end.

Even Ted and Madison.