Ice (20 page)

This time I sighed, and it was a sigh of relief that the story was over. I smiled a little, feeling like a heavy weight had been lifted from my chest. “I know it was all so immature and stupid. I hope you don’t think I was trying to belittle what you’ve been through.”

“No, no,” he said, shaking his head. “And you shouldn’t belittle yourself like that. That was some pretty heavy stuff to go through, especially around the time of your parents’ death. That must have been like a double whammy. It was stupid of him to throw away your friendship like that.”

I shrugged and smiled again. “That’s all behind me now.”

He smiled sweetly at me and he started to say something, but stopped.

“What is it?” I asked, feeling my smile leave my face.

“It’s nothing,” he said, shaking his head. He was still smiling, but he seemed nervous. He put the key in the ignition and we fastened our seatbelts.

But, I still had a question for him about what had happened earlier that night.

Once we were going down the road, placing my hands in front of the vent to soak in the heat, I asked, “So…what happened to Doug tonight?” My voice wasn’t happy like it was earlier, but it was just as casual.

Kavick turned the wheel and looked like he wasn’t just focusing on the road, but on how to tell me Doug had died. I knew he had to be dead. I had seen the blood. I just wanted to know how.

“When he hit you, I panicked….”

I thought back to earlier that night and remembered Kavick checking my pulse. I felt of my neck and looked down at my fingers. There wasn’t any blood on them, though. I remembered him putting his glove back on, but I couldn’t remember any blood on his hand, either. In fact, there hadn’t been any blood on Kavick at all, yet it sounded like Kavick was trying to tell me he had been the one that had killed Doug.

“…I shifted and was about to attack him, but Tartok had come up from behind him and attacked before I could reach him.”

So it had been Tartok…I wasn’t really surprised. And I didn’t blame him, either.
I didn’t remember seeing blood on him, either, but I suppose I wouldn’t be able to tell if he mauled Doug to death because he had been wearing gloves and it was dark.

“I’m sorry.” However, I was surprised that Kavick sounded genuinely sorry over the killer’s death. And then the sadness of it sunk in.
Justin’s friend had died. As strange as it might seem, I couldn’t be happy over Doug’s death, even though he had killed so many people and imprisoned others. However, I did believe Tartok had done the right thing considering the circumstances.

“Don’t be too sorry over it,” I said in a low voice. “He was going to kill you. Tartok did what he thought he had to in order to protect you. If he starts to beat himself up about it, remind him
of that.”

Kavick scratched his chin. “Uh, I don’t think he will,” he said awkwardly.

I thought back to his actions: torching the place, telling me I didn’t have time to free the others, the way he would interrogate the hunters and attack them; it reminded me of something else I wanted to confirm with him. “He was responsible for the fire before, wasn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Kavick said, keeping his eyes on the road. “It was in retaliation to Tupit’s death a few weeks earlier. Not only did he have to watch the place long enough to figure out when was the best time to strike, but he also had to convince the others it was the right thing to do. It took a while, but all the families agreed that the hunters had to stop killing us and that it might scare them if we let Tartok do it. Nobody wanted to help Tartok, though, because they were afraid the hunters would kill them. Suka was the only one who wanted to help, but her father wouldn’t allow it.”

I felt my spirits drop a little. It hadn’t scared them. Kavick and Anana had been shot and Kavick had been kidnapped. It hadn’t made any difference. And that explained why Suka kept calling Tartok a hypocrite. “He did all of that by himself? Nobody helped him?”

“I was the only one that would go with him. I didn’t want him to go alone; I wanted to make sure he was alright. I was there to watch for anyone and give him the signal when to pull out.”

I raised my eyebrows, impressed. Tartok was pretty skilled with matches and lighter fluid. Though the underground part of the Factory had a lot of concrete and metal, the upper lever must be made from wood, considering how it went up in flames.

Some time later, Kavick finally reached the stop sign that was at the edge of the road to Justin’s house.

“You better not go down there,” I said. “If I get caught, I don’t want you getting caught, too.”

Kavick crossed his fingers and said, “Here’s hoping you go undetected like before. But, uh, I want to visit you tomorrow…is that okay?”

I laughed and said, “But aren’t you kind of betrothed to someone? She might not like you meeting up with girls, like my last guy friend.”

“Well, I’m still thinking about that. Tha
t’s why it’s ‘kind of’,” he grinned.

I grabbed my wrappers and empty can and said, “Well, my personal opinion is that marriage should be about love…but what do I know? I have a pretty poor track record with it.”

Still grinning, he wrapped me in a warm hug.

“You can see me whenever you want,” I said.

He kept holding me, though, and just as I started to worry about him, he said in a quiet voice, “Be careful, Christine. Don’t tell anyone about what happened tonight. You could be a target now.”

He let go of me then and we pulled away from each other. Once again, I senselessly stared at him at a
n utter loss for words. For some reason, I was surprised by the concerned look on his face; not only did he seem worried, he seemed sad, even. I knew right then and there that he had already begun blaming himself.

I put a smile on, anyway, as I got out of the vehicle. Kavick was worth any risk. “You, too.”

Every time I had snuck out or had Kavick in my room, we were worried about getting caught. Kavick wouldn’t be so worried about what would happen to him, but he would always be worried about what would happen to me. He was afraid it would create conflict between Justin and me, but he said he couldn’t be seen with me during the day, due to the risk that the hunters might target me.

That night Kavick dropped me off at the stop sign was no different as I walked down the icy road to Justin’s little house, despite the fact I had never been caught before. I walked up to the side of the house and tried to raise my window, but I couldn’t manage it. I saw that my lamp was off, but I didn’t remember turning it off. Everything had happened so fast when Tartok arrived that I didn’t remember much of what had happened before that. Finally I gave up, deciding the snow and ice had made it stick too much for my strength and that I would just have to go in through the front door.

I walked around the house to the front porch, pulled the key out of my pocket, and slowly slipped it in the lock. I turned the key as quietly as I could. Before I could open the door, I heard Big John walking up to the front door, anticipating my arrival. I carefully pushed the door open and saw that a lamp in the corner of the living room was on. That, I knew for a fact, wasn’t right.

And Justin was sitting in a chair next to it.

The lamp shed a dim glow on him, making his blond whiskers look darker on his face. His hair was messy, like he had just gotten out of bed, and his face was serious. Yet, somehow, he looked a little sad, too, like Kavick had when he told me to be careful. I realized it must have been pain I was seeing on his face; I had hurt him. That was the last thing I wanted to do. I felt my heart drop down into my stomach. I stood there with my mouth hanging open like an idiot. And I was one. I was a stupid, awful person for hurting the only family that loved me and had done so much for me.

“You’re lettin’ the cold in,” he said in a low voice. Even though his tone seemed casual, he still seemed hurt. There was something else in his voice I didn’t like, as well.

I looked around, realizing I had the door open still. I quickly shut it, feeling even more embarrassed. I stood there at the door perfectly still, too nervous to sit down. My hands fidgeted at my sides, but I couldn’t control it.

“You’re probably wonderin’ how I knew you were gone.”

I nodded, not saying a word.

“I got a call that the Factory was on fire again. I went to your door to let you know I was leavin,’ but you wouldn’t answer, so I got worried and forced the door open.”

I looked down at my feet, feeling ashamed.

“I was startin’ to think you weren’t ever going to come back.”

I looked up at him, shocked. Of course, I would; he was my family. I felt even worse for making him think I wouldn’t want to come back to him.

Justin cleared his throat. It looked like he was trying to hide an underlying emotion. He rubbed his face and I wondered if he was angry, or tired…and then he looked at me again and I could see his eyes shining like Kavick’s had in the forest when he had spoken of his brother and his father. “I know this was just a temporary fix…but do you really hate it here that much?”

I felt my jaw drop again. The words were like a blow to the heart. “N…no, I like living here with you.”

He actually looked surprised when I said that. Now I felt like
I
was going to cry. Justin stayed strong, never letting the tears leave his eyes, but I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to be as tough as him after everything I had been through that night. I felt my eyes sting, but I hardened myself the best that I could.

“You know I’ve been talkin’ to your Aunt Suzanne, haven’t you?”

I shook my head again, surprised. I wondered why on earth she would call here and why Justin wouldn’t tell me.

“She’s been trying to convince me to send you back to
California to live with her.”

My brow furrowed down in confusion. “But she said there was no room for me
...”

“Your grandfather’s gotten worse, so she put him in a nursing home. She says you need to spend time with him while you can, and that someone who’s lived in
California all her life wouldn’t be able to adjust to Alaska. She also said that she’s spoken to your friends and that you’ve been telling them you don’t like it here.”

Once again my first instinct w
as to lie, but I didn’t want to. I wished I could say it was all lies and not to worry. I couldn’t, even though I didn’t want to hurt Justin anymore than I already had.

“When I first got here, I did have some trouble adjusting,” I explained truthfully with a trembling voice, “but I’m getting used to it now, and I
actually kind of like it here.”

I wanted to go on and on about how much I was starting to like Alaska, how I learned to appreciate its arctic beauty in the winter and the beautiful green forests in the summer, but if I did, I wouldn’t be able to leave out the mention of the friend I had made who
had helped me with the transition. I also wanted to tell him how much he had helped me, but it was so hard, for some reason. It was like words couldn’t even describe it.

Justin shook his head sadly and gave me a look that told me he wasn’t angry with me at all. “Christine, I don’t blame you if you want to move back to
California. I just want you to be happy. I mean it; I’m not just sayin’ that because I think that’s what you want to hear. I know it seems like we haven’t known each other that long, but I love you. I see a little more of your dad in you every day and he didn’t much like the cold, either…” He swallowed hard before finishing his sentence and I thought I was actually going to see one of those shining tears fall from his eyes. “…So I get it. I won’t be mad at you…I’ll just miss you.”

The whole situation seemed so surreal. I was having a real heart to heart with Justin. I felt like I was in a dream. It took me a moment to get control of my body. I shook my head, at first slowly, and then gradually harder until it was s
trong, defiant, and clear. “No…no, I want to stay with you. I love you, too, Uncle Justin, and I want to stay here. I’ll call Aunt Suzanne and tell her, too.”

He smiled wide and sniffed. “Well, I’m sure she’ll be callin’ again real soon. There’s no hurry. You ought to think about it a while anyway, just to be sure you know what you want.”

I shook my head again, sure. I didn’t want to leave Justin, or Kavick, especially at such a critical time; what if the Factory retaliates and tries to kidnap Kavick again, or worse, kill him?

He stood up from the chair and walked over to me. He gave me a brief hug. I barely even had time to touch him. He sniffed again and said, “You better get some sleep…you look tired.”

Once again, I felt ashamed and embarrassed. I nodded and mumbled, “I’m sorry I snuck out.”

“Oh
, yeah…uh, don’t do that again, okay?”

I would have laughed at his awkward attempt at parenting if I weren’t so busy wiping the tears from my eyes.

“If you want to go out, just ask. I’ll even let you stay out ‘til midnight if you want.”

I snapped my head up in disbelief, watching him head toward the hallway. “Really?” I asked, like he was crazy.

“Yeah,” he said seriously. “You’re a responsible girl. I know you won’t do anything reckless.”

I felt my jaw slowly drop as I thought back to the events of the night. I just stood there, stunned silly by the irony of his words as he shut the door to his room. If only he knew….

I looked down then, suddenly noticing Big John sitting in the doorway to the hall, watching me like he was waiting for me to go to bed.

“Okay, I’m going
now,” I said as I walked toward him. He loyally followed me to the bathroom, watching me wash my face and brush my teeth, and then into my room, tail wagging all the while. He jumped up onto the bed, ready to fall asleep at my feet.

I went to school like I did everyday, feeling strangely disconnected from the events that had happened last night. It felt like any other day despite my mind telling me to watch my back. Strangely, I didn’t feel threatened. Everything felt too normal. Through out the classes and in between chatter with Molly about the Factory catching fire yet again (in which I played dumb), I wondered how Kavick was doing and thought about what Justin had told me last night. Was I sure that I wanted to stay in Alaska?

Of course I would love to see
Charlotte again, and I used to dream about resuming my old life, but I was undoubtedly sure that I wanted to stay in Alaska with my uncle and make sure Kavick was alright. There were times when I was thinking more about what antiseptic Kavick was using on his gunshot wound than about if I wanted to go back to California.

What if he doesn’t treat it enough? What if it gets infected? I better make sure he’s tending to it properly. I wonder if I should
suggest alcohol, or….

I eventually realized how ridiculous I was being. I shouldn’t worry so much about Kavick. He’s a responsible young man. He could take care of himself.

But, for some reason, I couldn’t stop worrying. He was constantly on my mind, weaving in and out of thoughts of school, Justin, and Aunt Suzanne.

During the bus ride home, I decided I would go back to
California soon, but not to live with my Aunt. I would see my grandfather, incase he passed away soon. I couldn’t bear the thought of not being able to tell him goodbye. I wondered how Justin was going to come up with the money for my plane ticket, though. Again, I thought about getting a job, but every time I thought about driving, I felt panic clench my lungs, making it hard to breathe.

I stepped off from the bus at the stop sign and instantly felt the bitter col
d slap my face. I pulled my fur-lined hood over my head and carefully walked down the icy road to Justin’s house.

Once I got inside, I turned on the TV and started pulling my books out of my backpack. I laid them across the living room coffee table and turned the local news channel on, even though there wasn’t any news at three-thirty. If anything new came out about the Factory, though, I didn’t want to miss it, so I turned it down to a soft murmur of background noise.

I was barely into my English assignment when the headline “BREAKING NEWS” came up on the screen. Of course, it was about the Factory. I played with my pencil as I listened to the mayor talk about how the loss of jobs would hurt the community, and then a police officer appeared on the screen vowing not to rest until the one responsible was in custody. As soon as the officer finished speaking, Doug’s face appeared on the screen. It was an old picture of him with his team of sled dogs. He was posing with his sled as if he were a proud winner of the Iditarod.

“And now a bizarre twist in the Factory fire: Doug Hawkins of Riverton, thirty-six years old, was found dead in the woods near the Manheim Leather factory. He worked at the factory part-time, but police are saying his death is unrelated to the fire and that it appears he was the victim of a wolf attack.”

Even though the news cut back to one of those silly daytime dramas, I couldn’t stop thinking,
what about Justin?
What was I going to tell him? Doug was his friend. I knew it was going to hurt him, but telling him his friend was a killer wasn’t exactly words of comfort. I couldn’t risk Justin being a target of the hunters, either. Doug said he had ignored his better judgment about me because of Justin; the other hunters probably wouldn’t be as lenient.

Then there was another big question that had been looming over me: do the other hunters suspect what Doug did?

Eventually all my wondering went back to my uncle.

He was only a year
older than Justin….

Doug’s last moments flashed before my eyes. It was like I was in the snowy forest again, watching him point his rifle at Kavick. The almost human moment where Doug seemed to genuinely regret killing Kavick’s father haunted me the most.

“It’s haunted my conscience for so long….”

“Christine?”

Suddenly I bolted up from the couch with a gasp. Since when had I fallen asleep? Justin leaned away from the couch with his hands up. Once more I was reminded of Doug and looked around, as if expecting to see someone pointing a gun at Justin. I immediately realized how ridiculous I was being and self-consciously ran a hand over my hair.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare ya,” he said apologetically.

I glanced at the clock, seeing it was after six.

“No, no, you’re fine. I was having a bad dream, that’s all,” I admitted. My mind had been so riddled with Doug and what-ifs about the other hunters that I couldn’t remember when I had stopped speculating and began sleeping. Perhaps I had never stopped and was even thinking about it in my sleep.

Justin walked into the hallway and I looked at the TV; it was still on. I started shoving my books back into my backpack, deciding to finish working in my room away from the news.

And then they mentioned Doug’s death again.

Justin came walking back from the hallway, still unbuttoning his coat. He stared at the screen with a sad face, as if he had already known the news. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from Justin’s expression. Once the news anchor had finished her small paragraph on the life and times of Doug Hawkins, I said, “I’m sorry, Justin.”