Page 28

She began to pile the baby supplies atop one another and eased them to the cleanest part of the floor, since Cullen required the whole seat. She checked his pulse again. Steady.

“Ready to wake up now?” she suggested hopefully. “No? A short nap then.”

She spent a few minutes craned over the back seat to check the supplies in the rear. They seemed intact, the ATV having protected them from being crushed. God’s provision. It could be nothing else.

Supplies. You’ve still got them. Water . Food. First aid.

The issue next on the priority list was air quality.

Ash and debris were infiltrating the vehicle in spidery wisps.

With a bone-cracking stretch, she managed to snag the small bag she’d packed at the library with Archie’s help.

Her breath caught as she thought of him.

Where had he been when the mountain let loose?

She would not stop hoping and praying for Archie until she had proof positive he hadn’t survived. Until then, Archie was no doubt problem solving like she was. Do the next thing. Right now.

She located the roll of clear plastic bags and the duct tape.

Her dad would have smiled. Duct tape, in his opinion, was the single most useful tool in the history of tools.

She ripped off pieces and sealed plastic over the broken places of the window.

Not perfect, since some of the cracks spidered out to the far edges, but it would keep most of the foul particles out.

Until when? They starved to death?

Nope. She wasn’t going to go there. They had a fragile bubble of safety, and that was her goal.

Sweat collected on her brow. She scooted over and repeated the treatment on the other window, finishing up by gingerly gathering the bigger chunks of wood, rock, and glass in the vehicle and wrapping them in a paper bag before shoving them under the seat.

With a wet wipe, she sponged off all the surfaces she could reach.

Done. The sterile scent made her feel better.

She checked Cullen’s pulse again and found it strong. She cleaned his face and hands with a baby wipe. Then the angular planes of his cheeks, tanned, stubble speckling his chin. His fingers were long, strong, calloused from hard work.

Was his condition a temporary thing? She knew firsthand how a head injury could be a game changer.

After the crash, she’d lost her entire memory of meeting Annette.

What if he didn’t wake up? There were no answers to her question in the formless miasma floating past the ATV, only fear unless she figured something out fast.

The one positive thing about their current predicament was that she was completely confident Nico and Simon hadn’t followed them.

Their best chance of escape had likely been to tear up the trail and get sideways of the lethal landslide.

They might not even have made it that far.

Determined not to think of Archie vulnerable and alone, or their murderous pursuers, she set to work returning the envelope she hadn’t had time to investigate and the supplies as neatly as she could into the duffel bag.

Tot was still relatively calm, sucking her pacifier and wriggling and stroking the teddy bear’s fur.

There was nothing more she could do inside the vehicle. It was time to determine exactly how stuck they actually were. If the mill had created some sort of gap, a clearing in the debris field ... if the tires weren’t blown ... if, if, if.

She opened a package and looped a medical mask over her ears and fit it over her mouth, then shoved open the rear door and got out.

She immediately pushed it almost closed but not completely in case the door locks might malfunction.

Instantly, her feet sank in several inches of debris, branches imprisoning her ankles.

It was a shallow dusting compared to the massive bulk of the slide, but enough to make her unstable.

Awkwardly, as if she were wearing snowshoes, she climbed to the front of the ATV. The view froze her in place.

Their position under the sturdy beams provided an oasis of clearance, a wedge of safety.

Outside that defined space was a wall of wrecked trees and earth that still rose and fell as the mass continued to move downslope.

It was as if they were a tiny toy boat secured by a thread in the raging ebb and flow.

Her breath caught. Cullen Landry had most definitely saved their lives.

Any other position outside the protection of the mill and they would have been crushed. Breath puffing inside her mask, she turned in a complete circle, her brain spinning and useless. They were alive, yes.

But where would they go from here? How would they get there? The ATV, even if it was still operable, was walled up in every direction. Windblown ash stung her eyes.

She felt a wild sense of sorrow, the same sickening lurch that had flooded her soul when her father died before they could embark on their fanciful journey, and when she’d miscarried.

It was twined with fury at the unnatural ending of things, a savage snip that abruptly severed a person from their purpose.

Purpose. The word felt like a taunt.

Up until the day before, she’d known her purpose absolutely: securing her independence with her truck, living her life on her own terms, interacting only with people she chose, when she allowed it.

In the face of destruction, independence was a laughable goal and it crumbled away, leaving only unruly survival instincts.

She’d never appreciated it, not really, God’s gift of life.

Each breath, every morning, the people who came and went, all gifts she hadn’t savored.

One detour, one moment to help Annette ... and everything had changed.

Now she certainly did appreciate that divine gift ... as she stood on the precipice of losing it.

A memory flashed across her vision.

Annette, her neck craned up to talk to Kit through her open driver’s window, the pink coat buttoned over a bulge that had thrashed and moved, her baby.

“His name is Nico. He kept me prisoner , made me into a ... It’s been years .

” Annette’s lips had quivered as she said the words, her cheap rhinestone earrings catching a beam of sunlight.

“I finally got away. I’m meeting someone , but Nico’s after me , and if I don’t get out of here fast. ..”

She remembered herself saying with uncharacteristic impulsiveness, “ Get in.”

Her moment of deviation from the plan had cost her the truck and her life, likely.

But for some reason, she knew she’d make the same choice again, and she would continue to make choices to keep Tot alive until she was physically unable to do so.

Because there was something more important than her goals and plans.

Infinitely more important.

A branch whirled by, flinging freezing droplets of moisture against her forehead. If she had to strap Tot to her body and climb over the cage of monstrous broken trees, she would.

But she couldn’t leave Cullen. There was no way to manage them both. What am I going to do?

Her limbs shook with cold and fear, and sparkles danced around her. Tiny ice crystals were falling along with the ash as time slowly passed. It was going to snow? Now? How would she keep Tot from freezing? Herself and Cullen too?

She scanned the devastation, and an audacious idea ignited.

There were plenty of sticks littered about if she could dry them out sufficiently.

Jagged walls of brick stood not five feet from their trapped vehicle, within the perimeter of the safety zone provided by the bones of the old mill.

She could make a fire within their meager oasis.

The air was poisonous, sure, and there was no way she could keep Tot out in the elements for long, but maybe she could make a fire and warm them up as needed.

When it got too cold in the ATV, they’d scuttle out with masks, then return to the shelter of the vehicle. Repeat as necessary.

Hour by hour, they’d survive.

There was also the slimmest chance a rescue helicopter would spot the flames.

That was probably pure delusion. Slim to no chance of rescue, and equally as slender a possibility that Archie would come looking for them.

Didn’t really matter.

Unless she acted, they would freeze in that drafty vehicle, cold and exposure exterminating them, doing the job for Nico and Simon. But the brothers wouldn’t get the envelope they’d risked everything for. That thought gave her a spark of satisfaction.

Back at the driver’s door, she swiped a forearm across the sooty window to look inside.

Tot peeked back at her over the top of the teddy bear.

Safe and not screaming. In the back, Cullen had moved slightly but remained unconscious, crammed in the fetal position on a seat a couple feet too short for his frame.

To minimize the exchange of bad air for good, she edged to the back, quickly reached in and grabbed her pack and the bundle Archie had insisted they bring along, and then closed it again.

Archie’s foresight would be a lifeline: a plastic-wrapped pile of logs, a neat firewood bundle, dried and ready.

Thank you , Archie. She prayed again that he was not suffering, wherever he was.

She moved slowly along, gathering some torn-away branches and chunks of wood that had tumbled into the vicinity.

Hopefully they’d dry out enough to burn when Archie’s supply ran low.

How long? How many hours, days could she remain with limited supplies, a makeshift shelter, no medical care for Cullen. ..