Snowy Days and Lonely Nights

Welcome to Siberia, Boys

"Welcome to wastelands, boys." A large man with a thick Russian accent and broken English said to the two men he had escorted from the city of Moscow, Russia to a small cabin outside of Taymylyr, Russia.

Jason and James looked at each other and were happily surprised to see that they had the same regretful thoughts of choosing Russia as their hunting trip for the hunting season. They looked back upon the small cabin they were going to inhabit.

"Here's phone, is important. Keep safe." The big Russian man handed James a satellite phone and his anxious thoughts began racing to him again. Then, the eaten-away cabin door was open and the two were let in.

"Do you think this was really a good idea?" Jason whispered to James, quiet so the escort wouldn't hear their conversation as he struggled to get the old key out of the doorknob's lock.

James gave Jason a small grimace and shook his head. "But the number of game out here is too much to pass up." He whispered back.

The Russian man handed Jason the key to the cabin, hauled in enough wood to last a month to sit beside the woodburning stove, and dropped a large burlap sack of various meats and other things on the floor. "See you in 3 week."

Once James and Jason had seen that the man had disappeared into the dusky blizzard, they sighed deeply in relief. Jason locked the door so the man couldn't get back in. "So, what's the first plan of attack?" He asked, a forced smile on his face as he brushed the snow off of his coat and gloves.

"Get a fire started...Or something. I don't know, I expected to go hunting and, oh, not be stuck in a cabin for God only knows how fuckin' long." James responded with a twinge of anger within his voice. He roughly and carelessly tossed his gun's cartridge onto the bed, then put his rifle onto the table and began rearranging where the food that the escort had brought went.

Jason kept looking over his shoulder as he packed the stove full of wood and finally spoke up once he saw James finish putting the last of the meat into the deep freezer chest. "Hey, are you doing alright? You tired, or grumpy or something?" Jason joked, trying to lighten the mood. James only glared as he brushed the snow from his hair.

"Thanks for fuckin' asking. I'm tired as Hell, I'm colder than a dead person's dick, and I just want to sleep in peace." He grumbled. He took his coat off, threw it onto the table over his rifle, then took off his overalls and tossed himself into the bed. He looked unsettling to Jason, as he was only in his underwear, socks, and a bright orange t-shirt.

Cautiously, Jason changed into his pajamas, and climbed into the bed next to James, turning his back to the crabby man. He slid his bag towards him, dug for a minute, then pulled out his Gameboy and turned it on.

The room, aside from the crackling of the wood in the stove, went completely silent as Jason struggled to cover the speaker. "Are you...Are you fucking playing your Gameboy?" He asked in a raspy, sleepy voice as he turned on his side to look at the man.

The lamp was on and Jason, in his guilt, looked back at James with big eyes. "Sorry...I just need something to do." He mumbled as he booted up the game he was playing.

"At least wait until I'm asleep or something, Jesus." James mumbled, before returning to his side. He lay for hours upon hours, until he realized that he couldn't sleep and grabbed a bottle of vodka from the cupboard and the satellite phone.

He silently climbed back into bed so he wouldn't disturb Jason, who had fallen asleep clutching the Gameboy to his chest, and he dialed up a number. He turned on his bedside lamp and pressed call, then waited for the ear-bleeding dial tones to stop.

Almost immediately, the call was picked up and Lars's voice was heard through the roughly transmitted call. "Lars? Are you there?" He asked with slight worry, hoping the call quality would be bearable.

"Yeah, Yeah, I'm here. How was the flight?" Lars asked, sitting up in his bed and bringing his knees up to his chest as he listened intently.

James scoffed and sighed deeply. He took a long drink of his bottle, then responded. "Shitty. Bumpy. Stressful. I wanted to show Jason what it was like to go on a flight that wasn't first-class or our own jet, so I bought business-class tickets and...Eugh...Never again." He said, sounding exhausted.

Lars sighed softly and rested on his back again, rolling onto his side. "Sorry, man. That must've been shitty." He heard James let out a soft chuckle and he ran his fingers through his hair to get the stray strands out of his face.

"Oh, trust me, it was the worst fuckin' experience you could ever have. The flight from Moscow into Siberia wasn't fun, either. Lots of turbulence, Jason was screaming. The whole nine yards." He laughed softly. "Right now we're in the cabin and I think we're gonna be snowed in for the next few days or so." He added after some silence had made the conversation slightly awkward.

"Shit, really?" Lars asked, a soft smile growing on his face as he listened to James talk on and on about the wilderness and the imagery of everything around him. "Makes me wanna go with you on one of the hunting trips." He laughed once James apologized for rambling.

"Maybe next hunting season you and I can go up to the arctic circle and try hunting up there. I don't know how well you can hunt, though. I'll have to think about it." James teased. For the first time in the past two days, he had finally smiled.

"Oh, fuck you! I can hunt, and I can do it damn well." Lars took offense to James' comment, yet was smiling on the other end.

"Yeah, and you can also hunt down a mean martini at a party." James laughed through the phone. His tipsy nature made him both rude and a joker.

Lars made a scoffing sound through the phone and James could feel the man roll his eyes. "Don't scoff at me in that tone of voice, boy. I'll hunt you down." He said with a semi-serious tone before he burped and began laughing like a dork.

"Now, this. This is the kinda James I like to hear. Not the whole fuckin' "Oh, I'm stressed with producing an album! Oh, I'm stressed with Kirk's addictions!" kinda fuckin' attitude. This whole chill-out hunters vibe is way better." The man praised to James. It only made him smile wider.

"It's like..." Lars paused to count on his fingers, "2 AM there. Shouldn't you be asleep so you can be alert for tomorrow?" He asked. He heard James belch and giggle like a little boy about it once more.

"Nah. We won't be hunting anyways, the snow will be too deep. That's why we're gonna wait a few good days until the snow melts a little bit and we're able to get out." James explained, putting the bottle he once held onto the nightstand.

The man on the other line was silent for a few short moments before he said, "Mhm." in a soft voice and sighed. "Well, Jamie, it's 7 AM on a Saturday morning and I spent all night watching shitty infomercials with Kirk. I have to sleep some more before I can be a functioning human." He said, yawning.

James nodded, knowing fully well that Lars couldn't see him, and he let out another soft laugh at the thought of Kirk binge watching infomercials before he responded. "Alright. Sleep well, Mr. Ulrich. I'm gonna get shitfaced and hope that sends me to sleep." He joked.

Lars chuckled, then shook his head and let out a soft sneer.

"Don't die."

"I won't, but you better not either."

"Don't plan on it, dipshit."

"I know you don't plan on it, asshole."

The line fell silent for a few seconds before they burst out into laughter, James's softer than Lars's, and they said their goodbyes until James was awake again.