Flash Gold (a steampunk adventure set in the Yukon)

Flash Gold: Pt 6

Kali lay in the lean-to, her back to the furnace. Darkness smothered the forest, and she had no lantern fuel left to light her lamp.

“Don’t need light,” she told herself. It was long past midnight, long past the time she should be sleeping.

But her ears strained, listening for footsteps crunching through the snow. The starlit trail ought to be easy to follow, even at night. Cedar should have caught up hours ago—if he hadn’t been hurt. Or worse.

Kali groaned and rubbed her face. Why was she worrying about him? She had only known him two days.

Two days in which he had saved her life numerous times. More, he had saved her sled from saboteurs. She probably shouldn’t value a piece of machinery more than her own hide, but, damn it, it made her grin just thinking of him sneaking up on those brutes from town.

That grin faded at the realization that dawn lurked only a couple of hours away. She could not go back and search for him now. If she did, it was over. The race was lost. She had caught up to the other mushers but not gotten ahead before darkness fell, so she needed an early start in the morning. She needed to be well-rested. She definitely did not need to be lying awake, imagining Cedar buried in a snow drift with a bullet in his leg, trying to claw his way toward help, frostbite blackening his fingers and toes. Death on the horizon.

Kali groaned again, sat up, and grabbed her boots, her rifle, and a couple of smoke nuts. “Fool. I’m a fool.”

She slipped outside, wincing as cold air enveloped her. She stoked the furnace and broke camp, not bothering to pack the tent. It might have been faster to leave everything and tramp back to the lake on foot, but, concerned for Cedar or not, she would not leave her sled in plain sight where it could tempt saboteurs.

A few dogs barked as she passed other teams bedded down alongside the trail, but she chugged through without pausing to acknowledge questioning grunts from sleepy mushers.

The first hint of dawn brightened the southern sky when she neared the lake. She tucked the sled into a hollow beside the trail, then, rifle in hand, padded onto the ice.

Even in the dim lighting, the airship wreckage was easy to see. Flames still burned in spots, lighting charred trees and casting an orange glow onto the ice.

Kali skirted the shoreline, clinging to the shadows as she headed toward the downed ship. She had not gone far when a dark form on the ice came into view. A person? A body? Cedar?

She slid a glove off so she could rest a finger on the trigger of her rifle. Frigid air chafed exposed skin. She eased forward. The form did not move. When she drew close enough to identify it, queasiness stirred in her belly. A charred body. He, or she, must have been thrown far in the crash.

A branch snapped in the woods.

Kali dropped to a knee and raised the rifle. The cold wooden stock chilled her cheek.

A shadow moved amongst the trees. Wolf.

She held her fire, not wanting to risk alerting anyone with a shot. Besides, grisly as the thought was, the wolf had a meal; it would not likely bother her.

Kali passed more bodies. She was glad darkness cloaked their faces, but she imagined their shocked expressions, their terrified eyes, nonetheless. Knowing she was responsible for their deaths did not sit well with her. Self-defense or not, she had caused a lot of carnage.

But not all of it. Her mouth fell open when she came to the next body. This one was missing a head.

Her first instinct was to look away, but curiosity kept her eyes riveted. How in tarnation had someone been thrown clear in a way that removed his head? And for that matter… She searched the ice all about her. Where was the head?