Page 21

21

ORSON

I f the road was bugging him, Orson could only imagine how it was jarring Alex’s head. “Is there a reason that they don’t make the road flat ? Why the roller coaster?”

“It’s called permafrost,” Alex said shortly. “They build it flat, but the frost thaws differentially and heaves the road up in these waves on top of it.”

“That was probably a hassle constructing the pipeline, too,” Orson said thoughtfully. They could see glimpses of the pipeline periodically through the scrubby trees. The traffic thinned almost at once, and the road went from bad to worse, the pavement ending completely.

Orson had traveled plenty of gravel roads before, but this was a major highway on the maps. He’d had higher expectations.

Alex filled him in on the pipeline construction history and, from her words, he began to cobble together a picture of the enormous project and the sheer scope of the work and maintenance.

They met several huge semis along the way, and Alex warned him that the larger vehicles had the right of way at all times. The big rigs sometimes slowed courteously, but gravel still bounced off the windshield when they passed. The truck had started out with several chips in the glass, but Orson guessed they would end up in Deadhorse with many more.

It wasn’t long until he realized why they had two spare tires. They didn’t blow one themselves on the rough grade, but it was clear that it was a hazard of the road by the number of shredded tires in the ditches. Alex pulled off to help a van with a single mom trying to corral her wound-up kids and change a tire at the same time.

“We’re meeting their dad at the Five Mile Campground,” the harried mother explained. “Honey, don’t let Charles eat the lug nuts!”

Alex and Orson jostled good-naturedly over who would change the tire, and ended up doing it together, Alex working the jack and the wrench while Orson wrestled the tires and tried not to look like it was too easy.

“Can I…pay you something?” the mother asked gratefully once she’d gotten her kids loaded back up.

“Of course not,” Alex said. “We have to take care of each other out here!”

“Bye, kids!” Orson called.

“Bye, Mr. Grizzly!”

Orson gave Alex an alarmed look as we walked back to the truck. “How’d he know?” he whispered. The kid hadn’t felt like a shifter to his instinct.

“It’s the giant logo on the truck,” Alex whispered back. “That’s real slick, you know. Great way to keep your secret.”

Orson gave a shout of laughter. “Want me to drive for a while?”

“Nah.” Alex seemed mostly recovered by now, and she accepted some of the snacks he plied her with.

Orson recognized the Yukon Bridge from the security footage. “I see now why I looked like an idiot suggesting human response to threats here,” he said as they stopped to scope it out.

Alex pointed out the cameras, and Orson waved enthusiastically for them before she shushed him. “They’ll send drones out if we’re here too long, or if they perceive threatening behavior,” she reminded him.

“I’m waving. How threatening is that?”

“Let’s go, you ham.” He thought she said it fondly. “The visitor’s center on the far side has the best view and the last flush toilets for a long, long ways.”

They stopped at most of the scenic pullouts, and Orson marveled at the scope and beauty of Alaska. Every time that he thought it couldn’t get grander, it managed to. The sky clouded over, and the stops were brief, because the moment the truck door opened, the mosquitoes descended, thirsty and annoying.

Every time they got going again, they had to kill a dozen of them. Their corpses smeared the truck windows.

Orson insisted on a selfie at the Arctic Circle, which wasn’t a circle at all, just pullout and an informational sign. Alex smiled for the picture. While she was distracted, Orson kissed her, snapping another photo, and for a moment, he feared he’d disrupted the easy warmth they’d enjoyed during the ride this far. She frowned, then smiled slowly again and invited a real kiss.

It was easy to forget everything else, standing at the monument in a breeze stiff enough to keep the bugs off. Alex was in his arms, exactly where she belonged, and he might have stayed there much longer and risked exposing more skin if a pair of tourists in a very dirty Jeep had not pulled in just then.

“We’ve got a long journey left to go,” Alex reminded him, but she didn’t pull away when he caught her by the hand to walk back to the truck.