Two Alone Read Online Free Page B

one go about that? Wild animals? How would she defend herself if one attacked?
    She'd die without him. After several moments of deliberation, that was the grim conclusion she reached. She had no choice but to go along with whatever survival tactics he knew and be grateful that he was there to implement them.
    Swallowing her pride, she said. "All right, I'll go with you." He didn't even glance up or otherwise acknowledge her. She had no way of knowing whether he was glad or sorry over her decision. By all appearances, he was indifferent. He was already making a pile of things he'd salvaged from the wreckage. Determined not to be ignored. Rusty knelt down beside him. "What can I do to help?"
    He nodded toward the luggage compartment of the aircraft. "Go through the luggage. Everybody’s. Take whatever might come in handy later." He handed her several tiny suitcase keys, which he had obviously taken off the bodies before he buried them.
    She glanced warily at the suitcases. Some had already popped open as a result of the crash. The victims’ personal belongings lay strewn on the damp ground. "Isn't that...violating their privacy? Their families might resent—"
    He spun around so suddenly that she nearly toppled over backward. "Will you grow up and face facts?" He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. "Look around. Do you know what our chances are of coming out of this alive? I'll tell you: Nil. But before I go down, I'm going to fight like hell to stay alive. It’s a habit I have."
    His face moved closer to hers. "This isn't a Girl Scout outing gone awry; this is survival, lady, Etiquette and propriety be damned. If you tag along with me, you'll do what I tell you to, when I tell you to. Got that? And there won’t be any time to spend on sentiment. Don't waste tears on those who didn't make it. They're gone and there's not a damn thing we can do about it. Now, move your butt and get busy doing what I told you to do." He shoved her away from him and began collecting pelts that the hunters had been taking home as trophies. There was mostly caribou, but also white wolf, beaver, and one small mink.
    Holding back bitter tears of mortification and accumulated distress. Rusty bent over the suitcases and began sorting through their contents as she'd been instructed. She wanted to strike out at him. She wanted to collapse in a heap and bawl her eyes out. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her do either. Nor would she provide him with an excuse to leave her behind: he would probably grab at the flimsiest.
    A halt-hour later she carried her findings and added them to the pile of articles he had gathered. Apparently he approved of her selection, which included two flasks of liquor. She couldn't identify it by the smell, but Cooper wasn't particular. He seemed in enjoy the healthy drink he took from one of the flasks. She watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed. He had a strong neck, and a solid, square jaw. Typical, she thought peevishly, of all stubborn mules.
    He recapped the flask and tossed it down along with the books of marches, a travel sewing kit- and the extra clothing she-had accumulated. He didn't remark on how well she'd done. Instead he nodded down at the small suitcase she was carrying.
    "What's that?"
    "That's mine."
    "That's not what I asked."
    He yanked the suitcase from her hand and opened it. His large hands violated her neat stacks of pastel silk thermal underwear, nightgowns, and assorted lingerie. He pulled one set of leggings through the circle he made of his index finger and thumb. His gray eyes met hers. "Silk?" Coldly, she stared back at him without answering. His grin was downright dirty. It insinuated things she didn't even want to guess at. "Very nice."
    Then his grin disappeared beneath his mustache and he tossed the garment at her. 'Take two sets of long Johns. A couple pairs of socks. A cap. Gloves. This coat." he added, piling a ski jacket atop the other garments