Snow
A white blanket lay across everything; it had appeared during the night and only the tiny paw prints dotting the surface gave me any assurance we weren’t completely alone in the world. The sky hung heavy gray, and even the sun seemed dimmed, though it reflected brighter off the ground than it did up above. I pulled the door open, picked up a handful of the stuff, and then dropped it in amazement, rubbing my fingers against the cold. The others looked at me strangely, and I realized I was the only one who had never seen this before.
“What is it?” I asked with some resignation. There was no hiding my ignorance this time. They should be used to it by now.
“Snow,” Tegan answered. “It’s what happens when the rain freezes.”
“It would be death to keep going north in this,” Stalker said. “We’re lucky we found shelter. We have water and food and the prospect of hunting more. This is a good place to wait out the storm.”
“We should have a bit longer until true winter falls,” Fade added.
“Winter.” That was a new word. It sounded cold. I glanced at Fade, whose face was closed and blank. If he wanted to keep going, I didn’t know. These days, I didn’t know much about him. He hadn’t been the same since Pearl’s death.
“The river’s close by for fish too,” I said, and then wondered if they froze to death when it got cold. Maybe there were no fish after the snow fell.
“What do you think?” Fade asked Tegan.
“I don’t want to walk in the snow.”
I glanced around, assessing its potential for comfort. We had no furniture, no rag pallets or so much as a stool or crate. Most of what we’d found, we would have to burn, and once that ran out—
“What can we use once the old wood is gone?”
Stalker went into the kitchen and came back with a tool that looked suitable for hacking things up. It made me uneasy seeing it in his hands. “I can cut more.”
“You should do it before the snow gets any deeper,” Fade said.
Their eyes met and clashed, a quiet dispute, and then Stalker turned with a shrug. “Fine. I’ll be back soon.”
To my surprise, Tegan got to her feet. “I’ll go with you. I can help carry it.”
Maybe she felt like she had something to prove, to herself, if nobody else. I could understand that. She didn’t take a weapon as a point of pride. The club wouldn’t do her any good against Stalker anyway; lack of training would betray her. Still, she had to establish that she didn’t fear him and carve out her place in our group.
They went out together on a cold gust of wind. Afterward, I wedged the door shut as much as I could, digesting the idea that we weren’t going anywhere for a while. I’d lost track of how long it had been since we left the underground, and I was a little surprised we were still alive.
“How long does this last?” I asked Fade, gazing out at the snow.
“Months, sometimes.”
I shivered. “I’m glad we got out of the ruins before it hit.”
“There probably won’t be anything left alive, soon,” he said quietly.
“Underground too?”
He shrugged. “The Freaks took Nassau, and College wouldn’t prepare, so I doubt they’ll fare any better.” The sharp way he said the words, it was almost like he wanted to hurt me.
“Why are you so mad at me?” There was no point in ignoring it. I had hoped he’d get over the sadness or whatever had him acting this way, if I gave him time, but it didn’t seem to be working.
“I’m not.”
I swallowed the urge to call him a liar. “Then who are you mad at?”
“Myself.”
“You feel bad about Pearl,” I guessed.
“She managed to keep safe, after her dad died. I show up—and in one day, I get her killed.”
Much as I wanted to, I couldn’t deny our part in it. At this point, it didn’t matter whether I’d liked her. I’d hardly known her, and in truth, neither did he. He only remembered the brat she used to be.
“Does it help anything for you to feel this way?”
“No. But I can’t seem to stop either.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
He stared at me for such a long time that I grew uneasy. And then he asked, “Are we still partners? I know Silk put us together, but would you choose me now?”
As before, I had the feeling he meant something different with the word. “I don’t trust anyone like I do you.”
By the way his face closed, it wasn’t the response he wanted. I sensed I’d let him down somehow, but he didn’t make it easy. He started poking at the fire, and the question weighed between us in the silence until the other two returned.
* * *