Forensic anthropology student Alice Wheeler had thought she'd seen it all. From her studies under Dr. Temperance Brennan at the Jeffersonian Institute, she'd encountered the skeletal remains of burn victims, the drowned, warriors from ancient civili...
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Alice felt her grasp around Aiden's chest begin to slip. She let out a huff as she adjusted her grip, trying to hold him as firmly as she could. Encircling her arms under his armpits, she grabbed her other hand behind his back, trying to ignore the searing pain in her shoulder as she dragged him through the snow. She couldn't feel her fingers, she couldn't feel much of anything, she didn't know if it was from the cold or the adrenaline pumping through her veins. She did not stop, going as fast as her exhausted body could. Aiden groaned, blood still spilling from his broken nose, dripping in contrast to the white flurry beneath their feet. He wasn't much help. His leg was a broken, bloody mess, meaning that he couldn't aid her in her haste to find help. If they couldn't find it soon, he'd be a goner for sure.
"What did you do Alice?" He sputtered out, some of the blood on his lips spattered onto the shattered lenses of his glasses as he coughed. The rest dribbled down his chin before hitting the snow below as he turned his head to cough once more. He was trying his best to keep his grip on her too, his hand gripping onto the back of her puffy silver coat, which was stained maroon with blood.
Alice didn't answer, she didn't have to. They both knew what she had just done.
If the dead man behind them didn't answer his question, then the interrogation once they were found, would.
She wished this had all been a dream, a terrible nightmare that she could wake up from. Then she'd be back at work with her friends, helping put faces and names to the bones of murder victims. Aiden would be back in his office at home, clacking away at his typewriter as he grinned about a major revelation in his new novel. Alice would bring him takeout when she got home, and they'd watch an episode of whatever show they decided on binge-watching that week. Then they'd part ways and head to bed.
But she had learned long ago that life was unkind, and this was no dream.
With the sound of ravens screeching overhead, Alice tightened her grip around her brother and began to run.
_
Three Months Earlier
Alice Wheeler sat hunched over the examination table, her gloved fingers rotating the clavicle of some poor soldier. If her mother was there, she would scold her for her poor posture, saying she would grow a camel's hump. Her dark brown hair was tied back in a tight ponytail, she didn't want to contaminate or disturb the remains anymore than she had to. Her fellow graduate student, Zack Addy, sat scrawny and shaggy-haired beside her. The two had been assigned by Dr. Temprence Brennan to help identify an unknown WWII soldier that died in battle. Given that they had not gotten a case from Agent Seeley Booth in over two weeks, the two were happy to take on the task.
"There's grazing from a bullet on his right clavicle bone," Alice said, offering Zack the bone to look over, and pointing out the mark with her pinky as he held it up to examine it.
