“Will you sleep next to me?” she asked, the hint of embarrassment in her voice all but hidden by the return of her sadness.
Emily hesitated, then climbed in next to her, pulled the blanket over both of them, and slipped her arm around the girl’s chest, pulling her close.
“Emily?” Rhia asked, her voice little more than a whisper.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“I miss my daddy and Ben.”
Emily had to gain control of her own emotions before she answered. “I know, baby. I know.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Deadhorse was a sprawling town of storage outbuildings, temporary housing, offices, heavy equipment, and other vehicles. There seemed to be acres and acres of it. Calling it a “town” was a bit of a misnomer, though; it looked more like some kind of rapidly assembled military base, with little thought or reason to how it had been laid out. Over the rooftops of a nearby garage, Emily could see several gigantic cranes, their booms reaching across the sky like frozen skeletal fingers.
“We need to let Jacob know we’ve arrived,” Emily said, smiling at Rhiannon.
“Can I call him?” she pleaded.
“Of course. Grab the phone for me.” There had been little opportunity to charge the sat-phone over the past few days; once they had hit Fairbanks, they had pretty much said good-bye to the sun, so they had been relying on the battery backup system. That was empty now, and there was very little charge left in the actual sat-phone’s battery. There was enough, maybe, for twenty minutes or so of talk time, if she was lucky. Rhiannon pulled the phone from the side pocket of the backpack, unfolded the antenna, and pressed the On button. She waited for it to wake, then hit Redial and the Speakerphone buttons in succession.
The phone rang a few times longer than normal before Jacob picked up. “Emily.”
“No, it’s Rhia. Emily’s driving. She said I could call you. I learned to shoot.”
There was a pause on the other end as Jacob considered how and what to reply to first. “Well,” he said finally. “That’s great, I guess.” There was a certain stiffness to his voice that Emily hadn’t heard in all the times they had talked, and she wondered if he was feeling okay.
“We’re here,” Rhiannon continued, as if Jacob had said nothing at all. “We just arrived in Deadhorse.”
“That’s fantastic. Emily, do you know where you are exactly? Do you see any street signs?” The stiff tone had all but disappeared from Jacob’s voice. Emily and Rhiannon’s heads swiveled back and forth, searching for some kind of an indication of where they were. She didn’t recall having seen any road signs since they had passed the weathered sign announcing they had arrived at Deadhorse. The place was a rabbit warren, and with the road surfaces buried beneath several feet of snow, there were no visual cues to guide them, either.
“There’s nothing,” Emily answered. “We’re outside a building called Red Dragon Construction, if that’s of any help.”
It wasn’t; Jacob had never heard of them. “There are hundreds of businesses in and around Deadhorse,” he said. “New ones arrived every week, and it’s been a while since I’ve been over there. You just need to head north until you hit Prudhoe Bay on the coast. You can’t miss it—it’s all that separates you from the Arctic. When you reach it, you have to look for the dock. You’ll know it when you see it. There’ll be a boat there you can use to get to me.”
“A boat?” Emily said. No one had said anything about her having to drive—if that’s what you did with a boat—a freaking boat anywhere. “I thought one of you would come and pick us up?”
“We would, but we lost our boat in a storm a couple of nights ago. So it’s a good job you arrived when you did, otherwise we’d have to swim over.”
Nice of him to let her know, Emily thought. But she said, “Well, okay, I guess. If I can learn to drive a car and one of whatever the hell you call this thing we’re sitting in, I guess I can drive a boat.”
“Pilot,” Jacob corrected.
“What?”
“You pilot a boat.”
“Really? All right. I guess I can pilot a boat then.”
The phone made a beeping sound in her ear that it had never made before. She glanced quickly at the front readout: “Low Battery” flashed repeatedly on the LCD screen.
“Jacob, the phone’s about to die. Tell me how we get to you.”
The storm blew in fifteen minutes later. It started as a swirling white mist wafting low against the ground, sending mini tornadoes of already fallen powder swirling into the air. It quickly gathered momentum, and soon huge flakes of snow fell like petals from the pregnant clouds, dropping a silent white curtain over the land. Emily had the Cat’s windshield wipers on full blast, but even they couldn’t help keep back the veil of white that had descended. Within a minute visibility had dropped to thirty feet, then twenty, and then Emily could barely see much farther than the end of the engine cowling. The Cat’s headlamps did little to help; their powerful beams were dissipated by every falling particle of snow.
A huge gust of wind buffeted the Cat, rattling the cabin.
“Shit,” Emily spat, leaning forward in the driver’s seat in the hope of gaining a few extra inches of visibility, her nose almost touching the glass of the windshield. There was no way she was going to be able to navigate through this. She could be going around in circles for all she knew, or worse, she could drive off onto one of the frozen lakes that dotted the spaces between buildings. A second gust of wind hit the Cat, this time from behind. The vehicle bucked, and Emily thought she felt the Cat lift slightly off its tracks before dropping down again. It felt like the entire ground beneath them was shifting, like they were in the middle of an earthquake.
Before the world had disappeared, she had passed a two-level office building on the left. It was only a few hundred feet behind them, but as she tried to locate it again, there was no sign of it. The ravenous snowstorm had already devoured all trace of it. She could either choose to sit the storm out or try and find the building, which she thought would at least offer some better shelter than the cab of the Cat. Who knew how long the storm could last? It might be hours or it could be days, and they only had so much gas left.
Rhiannon was doing her best to keep her composure, but Emily could see the girl was spooked. They were completely disorientated by the storm that fizzed and swirled by their windows like static on a TV screen.
“I saw a building a little while back,” Emily told her. “I’m going to try and find it again.” Rhiannon nodded and slipped into her parka while Emily turned the Cat around until she was pointing in what she thought was the approximate direction of the office building she had spotted.
She eased the Cat forward at a slow crawl, barely four miles an hour. She searched the depthless white ahead, a dull ache already beginning to form at the back of her neck and behind her eyes as she strained for a sign, anything, that would indicate where the building was.
Wind thudded against the side of the Cat. Rhiannon yelped, and Thor gave an agitated bark from the backseat.
The building could be five feet away and she would drive right past it. As if to illustrate the hopelessness of their predicament, an extra strong flurry of snow splattered against the windshield. Momentarily overwhelmed, the windshield wipers strained against the sudden added weight until finally flinging the snow off the side of the Cat and continuing their relentless swish-swish back and forth.