He pulled both their shirts up high so they were belly to belly and wrapped his arms around Beaudine, drawing her to him. Her skin was cold and clammy and he nestled in as close as possible, offering what little warmth he had left, and hopefully, at some point, drawing some back from her. Sleep was the enemy when hypothermia loomed — too many people dozed off and never woke up. He should have tried harder to wake her, but his mind was too frazzled to focus. Exhaustion finally pushed him under, the last thoughts in his mind of Lovita’s grin and the sweet taste of akutaq on his lips.
Chapter 30
The three stubby candles Kostya Volodin found in the deserted cabin did more to remind him it was dark than provide any usable light. Little more than a pile of decaying logs and earth, the place offered no more than a spot to get out of the wind. They were fortunate to have even seen it tucked in along the banks of the river through the blowing snow.
Volodin stooped under the sagging roof and shook out a tattered wool blanket in front of him. Rodent droppings clattered against the rough wooden floor like BBs. A red-backed vole glared sullenly from the corner, flicking its little ears at every noise. Tiny black eyes glistened with accusation at the theft of its nest.
An incessant wind howled through numerous cracks in the log walls, bellowing the blue tarps that had been nailed over the collapsing window holes and nudging the piece of heavy carpet that hung from a wooden crossbeam over the flimsy door.
Even in this sorry condition, the cabin had seen recent use. A grease-spattered rectangle on the dusty shelf showed the place where someone, presumable hunters judging from the pile of caribou hooves outside, had used a small camp stove. The smell of fried meat and cheap whiskey mixed with the odor of humans living in close confinement made the windy drafts a welcome addition to the sour air.
The five crumpled blankets the hunters had left behind were long past their prime. Volodin was elated at first, but when he shook out the vole droppings, he discovered it would take at least three to make sure none of the rips and holes overlapped. He kept the two that were in the worst shape and handed the others to Kaija who accepted them without a word.
They hadn’t eaten since leaving Nome. A narrow escape from the lodge left them unprepared, and this blizzard soaked them to the skin by the time they reached the cabin. Volodin didn’t feel it prudent to start a fire. There was too great a danger that the smoke would give away their location even with the storm. A relatively dry place out of the snow and wind would have to do.
Thankfully, he and Kaija had been outside when the three Russians arrived at the lodge.
He’d not gotten much of a look at the men at the lodge, but they were surely sent by Rostov to bring him back — or perhaps just kill him. Poor Kaija. She had been terrified when the plane landed, but insisted on running back inside to retrieve her black plastic case. He’d not noticed it when they left Providenya, but his mind was slipping. He had not noticed many things. They’d fled to the river, hiding in a small building that contained fishing equipment.
When the second plane landed, presumably with reinforcements, Volodin saw the boat was their only means of escape. Kaija directed him where to go. She was such an intelligent child. Her friend would help them, she assured him, sitting at the bow of the boat clutching the black case in her lap.
Now Kaija stretched out on one of the two plywood beds ten feet away, facing the wall. She’d gone silent once they were on the river, brooding like the approaching storm. She blamed him, and he certainly deserved the blame. This mess was of his creation. He longed to talk with her, to explain, if only to hear a few accusatory words. But she’d put in her cursed earphones. When she listened to her music, he might as well be on another planet. Perhaps the battery on her mobile would die soon, and they would have a chance to talk, father to daughter, before they reached civilization — if they reached civilization.
It killed him inside to put someone he loved so deeply in such a dangerous and uncomfortable position. He folded the remaining two blankets on a rough wooden bench beside a crude wooden table so he’d have some padding to sit on. Kaija had left the case on the floor beside her bed. Perhaps, he thought, they had packed some food that he’d forgotten in his foolish stupor. Kaija didn’t stir as he picked up the case. The pulsing music pouring through her earphones rendered her as good as deaf.
He was surprised to find the case so heavy. It must have been important for them to have dragged it all the way from Providenya — but try as he might, he could not recall what was inside. Made of hard plastic with what looked like a waterproof seal, it looked like an expensive suitcase — the kind in which engineers or traveling photographers might carry delicate equipment. Touching it did bring back a faint memory. Perhaps he’d had enough forethought to bring food after all. He flipped the latches and lifted the lid, inexplicably worried that his daughter might turn over at any moment and catch him. To his amazement, he found a selection of a dozen metal canisters, each about the size of a soft drink can. A hard plastic divider separated six blue canisters from six yellow ones, identical but for the color. A vision of the proteins and growth hormones he’d prepared for his son, Petyr, suddenly rushed back to Volodin. The supplements were powerful stuff if he remembered correctly, packed with enough calories to see them through until they made it to the village the next morning.
“I have found us something to eat, Maria,” Volodin said, smiling at his luck. “This will keep you warm, my love.” He held two of the canisters, one blue, one yellow. There were no instructions, but the binary nature made it easier for him to get past U.S. Customs Inspectors. He remembered that he had to mix them.
“I am Kaija,” the young woman on the cot said without turning around. “Maria was my mother.”
“Kaija?” Volodin’s heart sank, but at his absentmindedness and the fact that he would not see his dear Maria. “Of course,” he whispered. “I knew that. You are my daughter.” He clanked the canisters together. “Kaija, my dear, help me find a pan and we will have our supper.”
Kaija sprang from the bed in an instant. Her lips pulled back in a horrifying scream and she flew at him, yanking the canisters out of his hands.
“You are such a fool!” she spat. “What could you be thinking?” Her chest heaved. She was angry with him — again.
“What’s wrong, Maria?” Tears welled in his eyes.
“Kaija!” she screamed. “You would have killed us.”
“Killed us?” Volodin fell back, collapsing on the bench stunned by his daughter’s outburst. “This is the same protein and growth supplements I have sent to Petyr.”
“You sent this to Petyr?” Kaija held up a canister in each hand before returning them gently to their respective spots in the plastic case.
Volodin nodded. “It is the least I could do as a father. Your half brother has so little, my dear.”
“Oh, he has something if you sent him this?”