The good news was that this meant we’d be crossing ice that was still frozen from the night’s temperatures. The bad news was that we’d be doing it in the dark. If someone went through, we had almost zero chance of finding them and getting them out again. Sure, we had flashlights and battery-operated lanterns, but I remembered how quickly Angie had moved once the current had her, and I knew for a fact that anyone who went into the water was going to be long gone before we could organize enough to start looking for them.
As I looked out across the expanse of ice, I did my absolute best not to think about that. Because we didn’t have any choice but to get across it. And we didn’t have any way to do that but on our own feet.
“We going to be able to get them all across that?” Bob asked quietly from next to me.
“We don’t have a choice,” I answered. “But we do it gradually. Quickly, but not everyone at once. And I think… I think we break them up. Have groups of five to seven people cross together. And send them up and downriver so that we have multiple groups crossing at the same time, at different places on the ice. Otherwise we’re going to be here forever. And we can’t afford to risk that.”
I glanced nervously downriver, where I could just make out the smudge that was our town. Still dark. Still quiet. I hoped.
I hoped to God that Randall didn’t have anyone looking this way with binoculars. If they did, and they saw what we were doing, they’d be here before we could get everyone to the other side. And we were absolutely not in any position to try to defend ourselves against a pack of madmen with guns.
“Thank God it’s still dark,” I murmured. Then I snapped to attention and started moving toward the townspeople. “Let’s get this done before it starts to get too light out. I don’t want to take the chance of Randall or his men spotting us.”
I picked out several men and women to help Bob guide the groups, then gave them their instructions. Five people, max, if they were adults. Seven, if they included some children.
“And everyone carries their own supplies,” I said. “No leaving them behind for someone else to take care of. Walk smoothly, no stomping. If you have a little one who’s inclined to stomp, carry them. And remember…” I looked around the group, my eyes as cold as steel, my heart growing still in my chest. “Feel through your feet. If you feel the ice shift under you, run for the bank. And I mean run. If you go through the ice, grab the edge as you go through, so that we have a shot at grabbing you. Drop anything that goes into the water with you. Whatever it is, we can replace it. We can’t replace you.”
I let that one sink in for only a moment before I started talking again.
“Guides, let’s get them moving across the ice every ten minutes or so. Give the group ahead of you a chance to get over the middle of the river before you start. And, go.”
I watched as everyone jumped into action, already following directions—partially because the movement was going to keep them warm, and partially because they wanted to get it over with. The guides made very short work of organizing the groups and getting them started either across the river or up or down the river, to cross somewhere else, and within moments the first people were starting out onto the ice.
Marlon suddenly appeared by my side, his eyes on the first group in front of us.
“That was quick work,” he said quietly.
“I learned a long time ago that the best way to get people to work for you is to give them their directions and let them figure it out themselves,” I replied. “Give them their boundaries, watch to make sure they’re doing it safely, but make them feel as if they’re in charge. They like to know the rules. They also like to feel like they’re doing their part.”
I felt rather than saw his eyes on me in a long, considering stare, but didn’t bother to look at him. Marlon knew exactly who and what I was, and I suspected that he knew a whole lot more about that than he was letting on. He didn’t need me to try to explain how I had come about my theories.
Because something told me he already knew. And that he was just waiting for the right time to tell me how and why he knew.
Marlon, Bob, Angie, Sarah, and I were going to make up the last group. We’d wanted to wait until everyone else was across, for two reasons. First, it meant that we would be able to protect the townspeople if Randall and his men showed up. Marlon and I were the best fighters, and Bob—and Angie, if it came down to it—were very good shots themselves. We would be able to hold Randall off until our stand-ins on the other side of the river—Sean and Joe—were able to get the townspeople to some sort of safety in the woods.
Second, we were better able to help from here, too. If anyone went through the ice, I wanted to see it happen so that I could get there to try to help.
And third, if I was being honest, the journey was going to be more difficult for us than for anyone else. Because Angie’s leg was still fresh out of surgery, and though we’d fixed her back into the exoskeleton for walking, I didn’t think any of us had forgotten our last trip over the ice. Or the disaster that had almost befallen us.
I hadn’t wanted to hold any other groups up. And I was dreading taking Angie out onto that ice more than a little bit.
“It’ll be fine,” she said, bumping my arm with hers shoulders. “Stop looking at the ice like it’s your worst enemy.”
“The last time I had you on the ice, I nearly lost you,” I noted quietly. “Can you blame me?”
“And if you’ll recall, that accident was partially because we were actually using a snow sled on the ice,” she reminded me. “Which we’re not doing this time. Everything is going to be fine. Let’s go.”
She hobbled ahead of me for two steps before I started after her, reaching out to take her arm and thread it through mine to try to make walking easier.
I would have carried her if she’d have let me. But I’d offered, and she’d promptly turned me down.
“The day I can’t walk for myself is the day I’m dead,” she said bluntly. “And that’s not today, John. It’s not today.”
We got to the ice faster than I was ready for, but one glance at the horizon showed me that the sun was already about one-quarter of the way up. Too much sunlight was streaming across the horizon, now, and that meant that we were getting into the danger zone.
We needed to get across that ice quickly. But speed, I knew, could very well be the enemy. Especially with the weight of Angie’s exoskeleton.
I grasped her arm more firmly to my side and cast a look at Marlon, who was carrying Sarah for me.
“If she goes in, we do whatever it takes to save her, got it?” I asked sharply.
Marlon gestured over his shoulder, to where his pack was resting on his back. “I’ve got an axe in my pack, just for that. But it’s not going to happen, John. It’s going to be fine.”
I nodded, trying to trust him, and then took my first step out onto the ice.
The snow had stopped falling before we arrived at the river, so we were at least saved from the slippery experience of snow over ice, but the going still wasn’t easy. We spent more time sliding than actually walking, and grasping onto each other as we shuffled forward, Angie’s injured leg moving more slowly than her good one and her breathing heavy with the effort.
“Are you okay?” I asked when we were about a quarter of the way across.”
“Be a lot better once we’re there,” she answered. “Any sign of Randall yet?”
I cast my glance quickly toward the town, but we’d gone into a depression to get to the river, and I could no longer see ground level. If he was coming, we wouldn’t know about it until he was right on top of us. Literally.