The Descent From Truth Read Online Free Page B

not, we’ll borrow the place.” He shook out the thermal undershirt that had been a part of her makeshift pillow and picked up the thermal bottoms in which she had slept. “Better slip these on.”
     
    She set her baby on the sleeping bag, gave him the aluminum pot to play with, and accepted the undergarments. “Thank you.”
     
    Alex turned to the baby and again demonstrated his wristwatch’s chimes. Fabric rustled behind him, and for several moments the only sounds were the baby’s delighted gibberish and the watch’s silvery dinging. Then Pia, fully dressed, stepped into his range of vision.
     
    When everything had been packed and the rolled-up sleeping bag lashed to his backpack, Alex crawled through the snow tunnel to the outside and pulled his equipment through. “Pass Freddy to me.” He cuddled the baby while Pia wriggled out.
     
    She reclaimed her son and wrapped his blanket around his snowsuit and over its hood so that only his eyes showed. Standing quietly, she waited while Alex freed the Mylar, cleared it of snow, and folded it to fit in his backpack.
     
    Snowshoes in hand, he approached her. “It’s about five miles to the cabin,” he said as he guided first one and then her other foot into the snowshoe bindings. “You tell me if I’m moving too fast, if you need more rest.” He fastened the bindings and checked the tension on the straps. “You’re set.”
     
    Tentatively, she tested the racquet-like contraptions. “It is like walking on water.”
     
    He shouldered his backpack and rifle, stepped into his cross-country skis, and buckled the safety bindings. “Better let me carry Freddy.” He held out his arms.
     
    She shook her head. “He will feel safer with me.”
     
    * * *
     
    Alex would have made book she’d change her mind about carrying the baby after half an hour, but in spite of fatigue shadows under her eyes, she refused to surrender him. Each time they halted to rest, Alex spread his sleeping bag over the snow. She always plopped down and lay quietly, motionless other than attending the baby, but she never complained, never asked to extend the rest periods or make them more frequent. He noticed her rubbing the thumb on her right hand and remembered the fused joint and flared tip. The deformed bone probably ached in the cold.
     
    He was grateful that she had the stamina to keep up. A threatening bank of dark clouds had formed on the western horizon and was moving their way at disturbing speed. With no communication capability and no food, they couldn’t afford to be caught in another storm.
     
    Three hours of hiking brought them to the crest of a hill from which they could see the cabin across a gully and a gently sloping meadow. Alex heaved a relieved sigh. The clouds now filled half the sky; if they brought more weather, at least he and his charges would have shelter. Maybe some rations.
     
    Approaching from the rear of the cabin and plodding around to the front, they passed a wall of wood-framed windows comprised of small panes secured with putty. The absence of chimney smoke told Alex the cabin was deserted, but he knocked anyway. Back at the window wall, he scraped away enough putty with his knife to lift out a glass pane. He reached inside to unlock the window, crawled through, and opened the door from inside. “We’ll borrow the cabin overnight. Tomorrow, I’ll hoof it to the highway.”
     
    Pia frowned. “You will do what?”
     
    “Hike out.” He would have to watch the American slang. “Find help.”
     
    She pointed to the fireplace. “Shall I build a fire?”
     
    “I’ll do it. Why don’t you and Freddy check the kitchen? See if there’s any food?”
     
    Tempered glass doors sealed the fireplace against chimney downdrafts. A brass latch near the top held the folding doors in place, and corrosion made it stick. Alex hammered it open with the handle of his knife, ignited kindling under logs, and savored the smell of wood smoke as he nursed the