Page 4

KHALIL

“ T his is bullshit! There’s no one here!” I shout over the wind, snow, and hail. I’m two hundred and thirty pounds of pure muscle, yet the storm raging around us has my solid frame trembling like a twig in a hurricane. Snow clings to Thorin’s blond lashes and thick brows when he sends me a look to shut the fuck up, and I send him an aggravated one right back. “Seriously, I can’t feel my nuts anymore, Thor! We need to make camp!”

Reality paid us a visit this morning, and we’ve been on a knife’s edge ever since.

The trek down Big Bear, our mountain and sanctum, and across the valley to reach the crash sites took longer because of the storm. It’s been hours since we’ve found the fuselage. Our search through the wreckage—and the corpses—before investigating the surrounding area for survivors—all the while being careful not to disturb the sites and leave evidence of our being here—proved fruitless.

The barrage of storms since the plane crashed a day ago is the only thing keeping the authorities from rallying search parties, but not for much longer.

The crash had been too far away for us to see or hear, but we’d felt it. The smaller mountain had roared its anger over being disturbed, and ours answered back.

I steal a glance at the reason we’re out here.

Zeke had caught a glimpse of the small plane on fire and flying too low through our cabin’s window and lost his shit.

He’s been quiet and pensive ever since.

My cold breath billows in front of me when I release a heavy breath. I tell myself it’s better than the alternative, but…

I don’t like how close he’s standing to the cliff’s edge.

Zeke’s hands are stuffed in the pockets of his insulated pants, and his shoulders are hunched—not from fighting the biting cold and harsh wind, but the voice inside daring him to jump.

Fucking Seth.

Jumping will be painless and quicker than whatever Isaac has in store for him, but I wasn’t about to let either happen.

“ Ezekiel. ” The sound of Thor’s stern voice only makes Zeke shuffle closer to the edge, and I clench my teeth in irritation. Thor and I have a difference in view on how to deal with Zeke’s trauma. Thor believes charging through it like a bull in a china shop is more effective, while I believe a little patience and understanding never hurt anyone.

“No one’s found us,” Thor gently says after catching the look I give him. “It’s unlikely anyone survived that crash, and if they did, they’re dead or will be soon.”

“Yeah, and good fucking riddance,” I add. “Anyone who even knows we exist is probably thinking the same about us.”

Zeke doesn’t respond. He just keeps staring into the misty abyss. Despite the pallor in his olive skin, Zeke’s cheeks are red from the cold I doubt he feels.

I keep my steps slow and quiet as I approach him like I would a startled calf. From the corner of my eye, I see Thor doing the same. There’s a determined glint in his eyes that says he’ll follow Zeke over the damn edge just to keep him from falling alone.

We both would.

“No one’s coming. And if they did…” I ignore the pissed-off look Thor flashes me at the fumbling reminder that they could . “We’ll kill them all this time . We won’t let him take you, Ezekiel.”

“You’re safe,” Thor promises.

A tortured sound reaches my ears, and I lunge before he can move an inch. I grab Zeke’s arm and yank him to me. Wrapping my arms around him, my hold is almost crushing while his nails dig into my back. Zeke tucks his face into my neck and sobs while Thor visibly sags with relief before coming over and planting a hand on Zeke’s shoulder.

Our gazes meet, and I want nothing more than to hunt the fuckers down that did this and wipe them all out. We neutralized anyone who stood in our way of getting Zeke out, but by now, Isaac—the so-called Savior—has likely doubled his numbers and tripled his influence.

Meanwhile, Zeke’s very existence becomes more and more tenuous each day. He wasn’t always like this—fragile, anxious, and destructive. The opposite, actually. He used to be the strongest of us all—carefree, quick to smile, infectious laughter…

His own brother stole that from him, and we’ve been fighting desperately to steal it back ever since.

Never should have left him alone.

Thor and I never should have left Nevada. After high school, I went off to pursue boxing, and Thorin joined the Corps. Boxing competitively kept me on the road for years while Thor was stationed at Camp Lejeune during the rare times he wasn’t deployed.

“We’ve got you, Zeke,” Thor murmurs. “Let’s go home.”

Home.

The asylum we’d built, with our bare hands nine years ago, as high up as we dared on the most volatile mountain in the Cold Peaks.

We still have a few hours of daylight left, but we’ll never make it back to the cabin before dark, so we head south in the direction of home until we find the familiar cave we’ve made use of a time or two.

It has a narrow opening that keeps predators from calling it home and a water source nearby.

Thorin rips off his balaclava as soon as we’re inside, and I do the same. Zeke slides down the wall until he’s sitting on his ass, knees bent, and shoving his hands through his dark hair. We give him space as Thor and I inspect the small cave.

Something doesn’t feel right, and judging by the tension in Thor’s shoulders, whose instincts are even sharper than mine, I know it’s not paranoia.

He walks over to inspect a small pile of burnt kindling, stick, and flint shavings near the rear of the cave. The ashes haven’t yet scattered, telling me the hastily put-together fire pit had been recent.

Spotting fresh footprints in the dust, I crouch to examine them in the fading light.

“Thor,” I call out since he’s the better tracker. I’m ninety percent positive these tracks belong to two people—a man and a woman, judging by the size differences.

These mountains are closed to the public during winter, and we still have a few more weeks until spring and the trails become passable.

“What is it?” Thor walks over to stand next to me when I don’t respond.

I sneak a glance over my shoulder at Ezekiel, and only when I’m sure he’s paying us no mind do I look up at Thorin. “I think there were survivors,” I whisper.

His expression immediately becomes twisted. “What?”

“Someone’s been here.” He gives me a blank look. “ Recently .”

“How do you know?”

I show Thor my findings and wait for him to tell me I’m wrong. When he swears under his breath, I know that I’m not. “This is less than a day old. We need to tell Zeke.”

“The hell we do.”

I rise to my full height but keep my voice low. “And why the hell not?”

“Because if it is Isaac, the last thing we need is Zeke losing his shit. You know what will happen if he does.”

Unconvinced, I cross my arms and stare him down. “Zeke’s a grown man, Thor. He can handle it.”

“Can he, though?”

“This isn’t your call to make.”

“What isn’t his call to make?”

Thorin and I startle, not having heard Zeke move from his spot by the mouth of the cave. Thor holds my gaze, silently communicating that it’s a bad idea, but I disagree.

“We think there were survivors,” I answer.

The color seeps from Zeke’s cheeks, and he goes utterly still.

“Shit,” I mumble.

“I told you he couldn’t handle it!” Thor shouts. Inside the small cave, his voice bounces off the walls.

Sucking my teeth at his dramatics, I snap my fingers in front of Zeke’s face. “Zeke, man. You with us, bro?”

Zeke blinks, and I count each one. After the first one, the knot in my stomach eases a fraction. His stare is long, but his eyes are clear. He’s not looking around in confusion as if he doesn’t know where he is or what day it is. The large knot in his throat bobs when he swallows. Zeke’s moving, and that’s what matters.

“I’m here,” he finally answers quietly, and though laden with fear and twisted memories of his time in his brother’s cult, it’s his voice that speaks.

Thorin and I take a collective breath of relief.

“This doesn’t change anything, Ezekiel. We don’t know who they are. They could be anyone. You’re safe.”

“Safe,” he repeats as if the word is foreign to him. These mountains have been our haven for nine years. Far longer than he’s been Isaac’s prisoner.

“We won’t let anyone hurt you,” Thorin vows. “But you have to promise that you’ll stay awake. If it is Isaac, the last thing we need is Seth running back to him or Bane going berserk. The trails of corpses those two will leave ends at our doorstep.”

“I don’t know if I can.”

As I reach for him, my heart breaks a little when Zeke flinches. Remembering that it’s me, he gives me a weak smile in invitation, and I slowly curl my arm around his shoulder. I feel Thorin doing the same to mine while his free hand cups the back of Zeke’s head. Our heads gravitate together, and the cave and the world outside fade away.

The endurance it takes to keep the isolation and loneliness from crumbling us from within requires all of us. It could almost feel like a long vacation if we didn’t know these mountains for what they truly are—our prison.

“Stay with us, Zeke,” I plead. “We need you. Say you’ll try.”

“I’ll try.”

The three of us drag ourselves out of the cave just before first light the following morning. Picking up the trail the survivors left is easy. They’re either amateurs or aren’t concerned with being followed.

It wouldn’t have mattered either way.

Tracking and reconnaissance was Thor’s specialty in the Marines. He would have found them anyway.

The pair are definitely headed south, and the closer the three of us get to our mountain, the more nervous Zeke becomes. He’s already withdrawing. It won’t take much to push him over the edge. The smallest tip in the scales could upset the balance.

Getting back is taking longer than it should because we’re covering our tracks as well as following theirs. It’s after noon when we eventually stop for a break.

The storm from yesterday finally moved on last night, so we have a brief reprieve before another one inevitably hits. It’s always like this during the tail end of winter, as if the season is rebelling at the thought of yielding to spring.

“They might be after the tail,” I blurt when I can’t take the weight of my brothers’ silence anymore. Thorin and Zeke haven’t said a word, but I know they’re thinking the same thing I am—that whoever was on that plane is searching for us, and that’s why they’re headed south. “It’s their best chance at finding the emergency transmitter,” I reason.

Neither respond. They just stare into the fire I’d hastily made, jaws tight, eyes dark, and mood pensive.

When it’s finally time to move on again, we grab our shit and trek until we reach the northern edge of the valley where our Ski-Doos are parked.

It’s just after sunset, and we know these wilds better than anyone, so we ride the last twenty miles to the base of our mountain, where we leave the snowmobiles. It’s still a few miles hike up to our cabin, and the climb is steep and winding.

My eyes are on a three-sixty rotation as we hike in silence. We don’t talk while keeping our steps as light as possible. A mile away from our cabin, we break off into three separate directions without a word. Zeke and I take the scenic routes to scout the surrounding perimeter while Thor continues forward.

He’s the first to make it to our small clearing. I can see him through the cover of trees where I wait while he stakes out our home for any sign of a disturbance. Across the clearing, I know Zeke is doing the same.

We’d built our cabin on the very edge of a steep cliff, so this tiny corner we claimed for ourselves is a dead end unless you’re suicidal.

The three of us watch the house for twenty minutes before Thor’s satisfied no one is waiting to ambush us.

After I whistle our code—two short and one long sound—Zeke and I emerge from the tree line to join Thor by the woodshed. We’re still hiding in shadow, just in case.

“We should go out and look for that tail first thing,” Thor suggests. “Find them before they find us.”

I silently wait for Zeke to object.

“If ever there was a good time to start smoking, it would be now,” he says.

“You can stay here where it’s safe—”

Zeke rolls his eyes. “I know it’s been a while since you’ve had a pretty little damsel to obsess over, but I’m not your bitch, Thor. I don’t need you to protect me.”

Thor’s blue eyes twinkle when he winks at him. “Suit yourself, sweetheart. I’ll remember that the next time you have a nightmare and try to crawl into my bed for a snuggle, little spoon.”

Zeke flips him off, and I cackle as we enter the cabin. Easy moments like these between us are rare these days. I think we’re all just relieved to know that our mountain is still safe for now.

After giving the cabin a thorough search, we retreat to our individual rooms—a luxury we didn’t have for years—to sleep off the hard journey.

Tomorrow, we’ll find the tail and figure out who the hell is trespassing on our mountain.