A Girl Called Fearless (34 page)

Someone had been this way already today. I followed the snowshoe tracks until they veered off and headed up into the pines.

At the last house in Salvation, a half-dozen doghouses on stilts poked above the snow. Huskies lounged on the roofs, ignoring me. Then a man with a braided beard hauled a dog sled into the yard. The dogs sprang up, barking and yipping and spinning on their chains. I watched the man harness them to his sled and bang! The sled shot straight across the valley and disappeared behind a hill.

Look at them run, I thought. Those dogs live to pull that sled. They're not conflicted about whether to go. They just go.

I wish I could be like them. Running for joy, not worried about what's ahead or behind.

But instead, I was out here, trying not to blow up from inside, thinking of everything I'd done and hadn't done. What I should do now.

The narrow valley went on for a mile more. I focused on what was in front of me, until my thoughts began to straighten out like the tracks my skis had carved in the snow.

All I can do is go forward. I can't go back and change anything I did. I just have to keep going.

When I reached the end of the valley, I turned. The sun had colored the distant peaks blush pink against a sky as clear blue as Venetian glass.

It was beautiful, I thought, trying to catch my breath. Like a picture postcard of the most idyllic place on earth. Except that it wasn't where I should be.

I need to stop fighting Maggie. I need to work with her to get the evidence we're carrying into Canada where it will be safe.

I need to be the person that Mom and Ms. A expected me to be. The person Yates believes in. That's the only way I can have a happily-ever-after.

Because I couldn't live a lie with Yates. Or myself.

I fit my skis into the tracks they'd made and headed back to Salvation. I'd only gone a hundred yards when Luke stepped out of the woods. Spying me, he walked forward, a rifle strapped to his back, his snowshoes sinking into the snow, and then waited for me to catch up.

“Nice to get out,” he said. His brown eyes welcomed me.

“I was going crazy shut up inside,” I said. “I needed to clear my head.”

“Did you?”

I smiled at the peace flowing through my body. “Yeah, I think I did.”

“The mountains'll do that.” A quiet smile lit his face.

“I can see why you'd never want to leave here.”

“I got basically everything I need.”

I couldn't resist trying to open him up. “Is there anything you don't have that you'd like?”

“Not really, but—” I felt him change direction. “I guess just once I'd like to compete in a rodeo. Barnabas took me to one in Idaho Falls last year.”

“Yeah? What event?”

“Barrel racing. I've got a mare who takes turns like nothing you've ever seen. I think we could take the prize.”

“Is she at winter pasture?”

He smiled. “How'd you know that?”

“Sarah.”

“Yeah, we'll herd Sweeney and the rest back up here in April.”

“So why can't you compete?”

“Well, we don't leave Salvation much, and not having a legal identity makes it difficult Outside.”

“Yeah, I guess it would.” Being with Luke was easy. I wanted to linger here in the frosted beauty of the woods. “Were you out hunting?” I said, nodding at his rifle.

“Nah. Hunting season's in the fall. I was checking my traps, but I carry the gun in case I run into something.”

“Like what?”

“Wolf.”

I swallowed. “I didn't know there were wolves out here.”

“Don't worry. They usually don't come around when elk's plentiful. They wouldn't bother hunting a scrawny little skier.”

“Scrawny?”

“Compared to an elk.” Luke ducked his head. “I'm sorry about the other night. I guess I ruined your dinner.”

“Too late. Maggie had already accomplished that.”

“She give you a hard time?”

“Yeah, but everything she said, I needed to hear.”

“Truth hurts sometimes.”

Luke was a good guy. It seemed wrong and a waste that we'd be gone in a couple days, and he was no closer to knowing Maggie than he was before she showed up. This was probably their last chance to fix things, and Luke was too angry and Maggie too closed off to try.

“Maggie heard you the other night,” I said. I saw a glimmer in Luke's eyes. “I know you're really angry with her—”

Luke groaned and looked away. “Could you leave it alone?”

I'd backed off on way too many things in the past. I had to say something that would get him to talk to her. “Maggie won't tell you what she's been working on—but if you knew, you might—”

“I might, what? Forgive her?”

“I don't know if you'd forgive her—but you'd realize that she cares deeply about people, and justice, and she's put her life on the line to save others.”

“For someone you say you don't trust and you claim is not your friend, you think pretty highly of her.”

I smiled at my contradictions. “You guys should talk to each other. We're leaving and there's a really good chance you'll never see her again.”

Luke was quiet for a moment. “I guess that means there's a good chance I'll never see you again.”

He was looking at me with something like—curiosity, or waiting. I bent down and checked my bindings. “Maggie and I are heading out as soon as we can. Canada's border might be closing, so we need to get out before it does.”

Luke turned and was listening hard. Way off in the distance, I heard a whirr like an engine or a chain saw. “We've got to get back.” He jerked me to my feet and took off.

The sound got louder and louder the closer we got to town, turning into an air-churning roar. We raced for the shelter of the buildings. Whatever was making that noise was coming from the road to civilization.

76

We were almost to the barn, when Maggie burst out of the wood shop, her shirt undone under her jacket and her jeans crammed into her boots. Her hair was wild around her face and she slammed a clip into her gun. “Do you see anything?” she yelled.

“It's a snowmobile,” Luke answered. “Stay here,” he told me, and ran ahead.

I undid my skis and tossed them aside. Maggie dragged me behind a woodpile, and we looked past the church to the way we'd come in the other night.

Barnabas dropped to his knees beside us. He was carrying a sleek black weapon that looked like the lethal love child of a rifle and a crossbow. It was fitted with a scope and a steel-tipped arrow. A silent assassin.

“Definitely a snowmobile,” he said. “We're looking at two riders max.”

“You think it's the guys who were after us?” I said.

“Don't know, but if it is, they'll be carrying an arsenal,” he answered.

My hands felt hopelessly empty. The gun Maggie gave me was back at Beattie's, a hundred yards away.

Barnabas stood up. “I'm going up on Ramos' roof. Get a clean shot when they come around the church.” He bounded across the road.

I peeked over the stacked wood. At every house, men and women were out on their porches, and each one of them had a rifle in their arms. The sound came closer, and they ducked down or retreated into the shadows.

A dot of red strobed through the trees. Nobody moved.

A snowmobile zoomed up to the edge of the woods, and the person on the back got off. His legs broke through the snow crust, and he stumbled to get his footing in the thigh-high snow. The snowmobile turned around and tore off. The person it left behind lumbered toward the church, arms flailing as he tried to steady himself.

Maggie peered through a stubby little scope. “It's a young guy. If he's got a weapon, it's under his clothes.”

I could see Barnabas from where we crouched. His crossbow was trained on the intruder. I bet fifty more ex-military were ready to blast the guy's head off as soon as he got closer.

“I don't know about this,” Maggie muttered. “You don't use a snowmobile to surprise someone.”

The guy had to be crazy or completely clueless. If he knew anything about these people, he'd know you don't show up in Salvation unannounced.

And that's when I realized who it was. I grabbed the scope from Maggie and took one glance before I leaped up. “Yates! Yates!”

“Avie!” he cried, and started running toward me.

Maggie tried to grab me, but I twisted away and scrambled out into the open. “Stop! Don't move!” I shouted.

I ran up the unplowed road, sinking to my knees in snow. “Don't shoot! Don't shoot!” I yelled. “He's a friend.”

Tears blinded me before they froze on my cheeks. I ran, but I couldn't breathe. The air was so cold and thin, and Yates so close and yet so far away.

I slipped and fell, and Yates bounded toward me. “Stay right there,” I yelled. “I'm coming.”

The snow had soaked my pants. They stuck to my knees and almost pulled me down.

I fell into his outstretched arms. “Yates. Yates! I can't believe you're here.”

He crushed me to him. “You're alive,” he said, like he was trying to make himself believe it.

“Stand down!” I heard Barnabas yell. “Stand down, everyone, until we see what we've got here.”

I locked my arms around Yates' neck. “You found me.” My lips met his, and we drank each other in, frozen lips and warm breath.
I'm not dreaming. You're real.
“I didn't think I'd see you again. Not for months.”

His eyes were red, and he hadn't shaved in a couple of days. “I told you I'd find you,” he said. He went to kiss me again, but I held him back. “Wait,” I said, “there are about a hundred people watching us.”

Yates rested his head on mine. “Okay, as long as I can hold you.”

“How did you get here? How did you find me?”

“I caught a ride with a trucker delivering tortillas to Salt Lake. He found me a ride to Boise.”

“And who was that guy on the snowmobile?”

“The pastor at the Pentecostal church. I told him I was looking for Salvation.”

“But how did you even know to look for this place?”

“Mrs. Kessler got a call from a man who said he had a message from Helen.”

Helen, you diehard romantic, thank you.

Yates jerked his head like something caught his eye. “Check it out.”

Barnabas, Ramos, Rogan, and a dozen other people marched toward us, weapons in their hands. “This doesn't look good,” Yates said.

“It will be okay. I'll tell them you're a friend. They don't need to worry about you.” I kept my eyes on Ramos. He was twitchy, but at least he had boots on. Luke was nowhere in sight and I wondered if anyone else could keep Ramos from losing it.

“What's with the guy with the crossbow?” Yates whispered.

“Barnabas? He's a carpenter. He builds guitars.”

“That's a special forces weapon.”

“He's ex-military. A lot of people here are.”

“Great.”

The crowd stopped about twenty feet away. They talked in low voices, while Barnabas came forward. “Who's this, Avie?”

“My name's Yates.” Yates straightened up and trained his eyes on Barnabas. They were the only weapons Yates had.

“All right, Yates. Why are you here?”

“I came to help Avie.”

“How do we know you're for real?”

I moved in front of Yates, daring them to shoot me. “He's my friend. He helped me escape my Contract.”

“Open your coat, Yates. Let's see if you've got any weapons on you.”

Yates raised his arms. “Sure, check me out. I'm not packing.” He tore off his coat and held it over his head while he turned around so everyone could see he was clean.

It was way too cold to put Yates through this little show. “Okay, he did what you wanted,” I said. “Are you satisfied?”

Barnabas looked at me just long enough to let me know he didn't take to being pushed around, then he nodded at Yates. “Go ahead. Put it back on.”

Beattie'd been watching from inside the crowd, but now she stepped around to the front. “The Council's asking for a meeting. I think it's clear this young man is not an immediate threat. Everyone, you can go about your business. We'll let you know when the Council's ready to meet.”

Yates and I stood there while the crowd broke up and people returned to their houses. I couldn't figure out why the Council was so amped up. It was obvious Yates wasn't dangerous.

“Is there someplace we can be alone?” Yates asked. “How about the barn?”

Forty goats and Jonas and Sarah barging in and out. “Definitely not.” I turned Yates toward the church, and that's when I saw Luke behind us. I don't know how he'd circled around without us seeing him, but he did.

“This way,” I said.

77

We knocked the snow off our boots and stepped inside the church. It was dim in the falling light. I led Yates up to the balcony, holding on to him the whole time. I didn't trust him to really be here, feeling almost as if he could be just a figment of my imagination.

“It's a little warmer up here,” I said.

“Not much.” Yates lowered himself to the floor and propped his back against the wall. He took my hand and drew me onto his lap. My heart pounded as he slowly unzipped his coat, then mine.

We pressed together, soaking in each other's warmth. I looked into his blue, blue eyes and wondered if he could see the selfish, messed-up parts of me. I was changing and I wanted him to see that—not the rest.

“I can't believe you're here,” I said.

“Believe it.”

“You could have gotten killed.”

“Yeah, but I couldn't stay in L.A., knowing they were hunting you. I couldn't do it.”