Page 10 of Solomon's Ransom
“I don’t know. Bury him. And then get the hell out of here.”
“You want to head back?”
“Yeah. If someone’s out murdering in the barrens, I don’t want us to be next.” Bears were normal: expected. Murder wasn’t. Sol straightened and wiped his hands on his pants. “Let’s get out the shovel.”
They took turns digging. Remma could move about twice the dirt Sol could in the same amount of time, so it didn’t take long. Together they heaved the scrapper’s corpse into the hole.
“Sorry you went that way,” Sol said to the body, just to have something to say. Even an impromptu funeral deserved a little bit of ceremony. “We’ll try to find out where you’re from and let them know what happened to you.”
Remma grunted and dumped in the first shovelful of dirt.
Once the man was safely in the ground, they didn’t linger. Sol checked the compass for the most direct route back to the colony and they headed that way at the fastest pace they could manage. Forget trying to find good places to camp at night—Sol’s priority was getting home as soon as possible. The less time they spent out in the barrens, the better.
They walked in silence until it was almost too dark to see, then set up camp by the light of their headlamps. Remma frowned as he worked, as if he disapproved of the stew he was rehydrating. Sol thought of saying something to reassure him, but any words he could manage would ring false. Remma understood the danger as well as Sol did.
Remma offered to sit up and keep watch, and Sol only argued a little. Even so, he barely slept that night. Every noise from the forest woke him from light, restless sleep. Every crackle of the fire had him leaving the tent just to check, ignoring the judgmental looks he got from Remma. Would the fire keep bears away or attract something worse? Sol couldn’t say, and that kept him awake, too. At the first hint of morning light he rose with gritty eyes and began to pack the sledge.
Remma’s face appeared at the tent flap. “Time to get going?”
“Yeah. The sooner the better.”
“Let’s have something to eat, at least. You don’t want to walk all morning on an empty stomach.” Remma gave him a look. “And some coffee. Did you sleep at all?”
“Did you?” Sol retorted. “I know you never do.”
“That isn’t true. I do sleep. But I only need an hour or two a night.”
“Probably about how much I got last night. Fine, make me some coffee. It’s going to be a long day.”
The coffee and the cold air helped him feel slightly more alert as they set out, but he knew he wasn’t at his best, and that was bad. He couldn’t afford to be anything less than one hundred percent if they ran into trouble. Adrenaline could only get him so far.
He blamed his fatigue on how long it took him to notice the way Remma kept looking back over his shoulder, again and again. Every few minutes, as if he were hearing some repetitive sound.
“You hear something?” Sol asked belatedly.
“No. I don’t know.” Remma hesitated, then said, “It’s probably nothing.”
Sol stopped. “Okay, that’s not reassuring. Remma?—”
“I don’t know what it is. It doesn’t sound close. That’s all I can tell you. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about.”
“Not yet,” Sol said grimly. “I need you to let me know right away if it changes. Or if you hear something else.”
“I will. Sorry.”
“Let me decide what needs worrying about. You’re just the hired muscle.” Sol tried to say it lightly, hoping the joke would land, even though it wasn’t really a joke.
Remma barked a laugh. “Just here to pull the sledge, huh. Okay, you got it, boss.”
“You can call me that whenever you want,” Sol said. “Seriously, though, Remma?—”
“I know. I get it. Let’s just go.”
They lapsed into silence again as they kept walking, at a pace fast enough to make Sol’s calves ache. His urgency to get home was a frantic drumbeat in his chest. He couldn’t wait to hear the colony doors sealing shut behind him. Nothing would ever sound so sweet again.
Remma looked back over his shoulder again.
“Remma,what,” Sol said.