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Past midnight, Winter Solstice
THERE WAS NO WAY THAT Kennedy could manage to fall asleep, even as exhausted as she felt. She’d left her cell in the totaled car and there were no clocks anywhere, but it felt like she’d been at Roger’s for hours by the time he mumbled something about stepping outside for a few minutes. Kennedy was relieved when he left. Maybe Willow had seen hermits like him her entire life, but Kennedy had no idea people still lived like this in America in the twenty-first century.
She nudged her roommate who lay beside her. “You still awake?”
Willow rolled over. “Yeah. What’s going on?” She sat up and arched her back.
“Roger just stepped out. Didn’t say where he was going.”
“Probably to use the outhouse,” she answered. “You should try to sleep. It’s late.”
“I don’t like this place.” Kennedy kept her voice low in case Roger was close by. “Gives me the creeps.”
Willow shrugged. “Early days, everyone lived like this. Little cabins, you see them all over the place. My grandpa built one just like it. It’s pretty standard for the homestead generation. You make yourself a quick cabin in the spring, clear the land and get your crops planted, and then after you get ahead a little you make yourself a proper home. My grandparents lived in a one-room like this until my mom was two or three. It’s still there on the property. Remind me to show you.”
Kennedy didn’t reply. She was too busy trying to guess how much longer it’d be until morning. “Do you have your phone?” she asked Willow.
“Yeah, but there’s no reception out here.”
“I know. I was just wondering what time it was.”
Willow glanced out the tiny window by Roger’s cupboard. “Probably right after one.” She pulled out her phone to check. “Yup. It’s 1:13.”
“How’d you do that?”
Willow shrugged. “Just looked at the angle of the moon. It’s not neuroscience.”
It was times like these that made Kennedy realize how ignorant she was about rural living. Even on their busy campus in Cambridge, Willow was always commenting about the lunar phases, telling Kennedy when a harvest moon was due or when a meteor shower was passing through.
“I wish it weren’t so dark in here,” Kennedy said.
Willow tapped her screen. “Hold on. I can turn this thing into a flashlight.”
The cabin was no less creepy now than it had been in the dark.
“I can’t wait until we get out of this place.”
Willow reached over and offered a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll be fine. If it weren’t for me worrying about getting back home, I’d actually be enjoying our little adventure.”
“What about that Eureka place?” Kennedy asked.
“It’s not that far. Maybe twenty minutes’ drive. Roger’ll take us there in the morning. They’ve got decent food too. No more spam for breakfast.”
Kennedy tried to match her smile.
“Don’t worry,” Willow said. “Just think about all we have to be thankful for. If your plane had come a few hours later, you might not have been able to land at all. We got out of Anchorage in plenty of time, and that moose could have done a lot more damage than it did. Honestly, it’s a miracle Roger found us. We could have been lying in that car for hours before somebody drove by. This is all just part of being in Alaska, really. You have to learn to be flexible.” She chuckled. “And you have to learn to watch the road for moose.”
Kennedy let out her breath. “There’s still something really off about this place.”
“You’re just not used to roughing it, City Girl.”
Maybe Willow was right. Maybe Kennedy needed to be more flexible. More adventurous like her roommate.
Or maybe she just needed to be at that lodge in Eureka, sleeping in a real bed and not on a pile of rags.
“You want proof that there’s nothing here to worry about?” Willow stood and shined her phone light around. “I’m telling you, I know all about these little homestead cabins. See, over here, this is where he keeps his two coffee mugs, two tin plates, fork, knife, and a spoon.” She pulled open a drawer. “Oh, look. I was wrong. He actually has two spoons.” She held them up.
“And over here, you’ve already seen his pantry. Spam, canned corn, and Ramen. Hey, just like Nick eats. And this ...” She picked up a shoebox. “I bet this is where he keeps every single personal item he owns.” She paused with her hand on the lid. “Wait, let me guess. An expired driver’s license, a postcard from his mom or grandma, and a third-grade report card.” She opened the box with a grand gesture.
“We shouldn’t be going through his stuff.” Kennedy glanced nervously at the door. If Roger was just using the outhouse, he’d be back any second.
“I want to prove to you that this man is totally harmless. Like I said, he ...” Willow froze.
So did the blood in Kennedy’s veins. “What? What is it?”
“Dude.” Willow shook her head.
“What?” Kennedy repeated. “If this is your idea of a joke ...”
Headlights shined in through the window. Willow threw on the lid, shoved the box back on the shelf, and all but dove into Kennedy’s lap.
“What’s the matter?” Kennedy hissed.
“Just lie down,” Willow whispered. “Lie down and pretend to be asleep.” She thrust her cell phone into Kennedy’s hand. “And the minute you get the chance, run.”