Nick led the way, carrying both backpacks and the doctor’s sample cases. The doctor walked close behind her, still nursing her arm. Behind them both came Barlow, shouting, “Pick up the pace. Mush.”
Nick grimaced against the ache in her shoulders. Originally, she’d guessed the aluminum cases to weigh no more than ten pounds apiece, fully loaded. But that had been on the other side of Hammersmiths, miles ago. Since then, their weight had doubled, and redoubled, or so it seemed, until now they felt like lead weights. She couldn’t possibly pick up the pace. Her backpack was a stone waiting to crush her the moment she relaxed her guard.
Think about something else, she told herself. Focus on the road ahead, anything. Just keep going, one foot after the other. In desperation, she counted paces to herself, like a soldier marching. But her aching muscles weren’t fooled. A hundred miles like this and she’d be dead. So why not stop right now and get it over with? Let him shoot her.
She was about to do just that when Karen stopped walking and said, “Hold up, Nick. Let me take one of those cases.”
Nick dropped them in the snow and bent at the waist breathing so hard her frosty breath billowed around her.
“Goddamn it!” Barlow yelled. “Keep moving.”
“She’s slowing us up,” Karen replied. “We’re going to have to take turns carrying the cases.”
“Not me,” Barlow said, keeping his distance. “You two figure it out, but don’t take all day. And I want you walking side by side from now on.”
He gestured at the women to move closer together, obviously to narrow his field of fire.
“Bastard!” Karen spat as she grabbed one of the cases with her good hand.
Winded, Nick could only mutely nod her appreciation. “Don’t thank me,” Karen told her. “The faster we walk, the better my chances.”
Nick said nothing. There was no need. Karen’s eyes said what they both knew, that there was no way they could reach the ranger station within the flu’s two-day incubation period, not even if they doubled their pace.
“For Christ’s sake!” Barlow bellowed. “Move it!”
They hadn’t gone more than a hundred yards when it started snowing again. At first, only a few lazy flakes fell, but within moments they were walking in a swirling, white blizzard. Quickly the road turned into a white stripe in an even whiter landscape.
Nick had to walk with her head down to keep from straying off the track. As the snow deepened, it clung to her boots. Soon her feet felt leaden. Her toes itched with the cold.
When Karen stumbled, Nick grabbed her without thinking. “Don’t worry,” the doctor said, turning away from her to speak. The Spanish Lady was virulent as hell, but chances are in this deep freeze you’d have to kiss me to catch it.”
“You can’t be certain you’ve been infected.”
“Let’s hope she has,” Barlow joined in.
Nick glanced over her shoulder to see that he’d moved closer now that the snowfall was limiting visibility.
“Our virus has to be tested. Isn’t that right, Karen?” The doctor said nothing.
Barlow snorted. “Think about it. You can’t cause a worldwide panic if your virus isn’t a killer. And don’t think for a minute that Karen here won’t test the stuff on you if she survives.”
He laughed. “You two can be the start of our epidemic.”
Karen stumbled again. This time Nick let her fall in the deepening snow.
“Don’t just lie there,” Barlow shouted at the doctor. “I’ve got a schedule to keep.”
Karen scrabbled to her feet and began brushing the snow from her clothes.
“What’s the matter with you?” Barlow snapped. “I hope you’re not sick already.”
Karen shook her head, but Nick saw the fear in her eyes. “It’s too soon to incubate,” Karen said. “Two days, remember.”
Barlow held up one finger. “That’s today.” He added a second finger. “Tomorrow’s something to look forward to, then, isn’t it? Now move.”
The doctor glared at him for a moment, then started forward again.
“You, too,” Barlow said, pointing his Glock at Nick. “Right beside her.”
Nick struggled to catch up. As she did, she realized the doctor’s stumble had taken them slightly off course. They were now off the road and veering farther from it all the time. There appeared to be a cleared path branching off from the road and plunging into the forest. She couldn’t tell if it was natural or man-made.
Nick risked a quick look over her shoulder. Barlow was five paces back, watching them, not the road.
“There’s a rock, watch your step,” Nick said, taking the doctor’s arm as if to steady it, and then applying just enough pressure to keep them bearing to the right.
“Thank you,” Karen said.
The doctor, Nick realized, was walking with her eyes narrowed to slits as protection against the wind-driven snow. She applied more pressure to Karen’s arm.
With each step a voice screamed inside Nick’s head. Stop! Without the road you can’t find your way back. Without the road, you die.
Her teeth chattered.
Survive! her brain screamed, but somehow she kept up the gentle pressure on the doctor’s arm.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw the white ribbon, all that remained of the roadbed, disappear into the nothingness of falling snow.
Nick released the doctor’s arm to switch the sample case into her other hand. Even without her nudging, the doctor continued to swing to the right.
So be it, Nick thought, wondering how long before they were all dead of exposure. Several days, she decided. Sooner if the weather turned colder. She prayed the Spanish Lady would die along with them.
For a while, she watched for landmarks that might lead her back to safety if ever she escaped Barlow. But the snow was erasing everything but the trees.
Soon she knew they were truly lost. Since the road itself didn’t run straight, but curved its way through the refuge, it could be anywhere, to their left or right, or even running parallel to their present position.
She raised her head to peer at the darkening sky. If the stars came out, she could navigate by them, something Elliot had taught her. The only trouble was you had to know where you were to start with. Otherwise, directions were meaningless, especially in the wilderness.
Funny, she thought, Elliot had always said an airplane would get her killed.
Karen came to a halt. The trees were crowding in, and it had become apparent, even to someone as exhausted as she was, that the road had disappeared.
Barlow looked up. “Bitches!” he screamed. “You’ve wandered off the road.”
Karen peered down at her feet as if astonished to see featureless snow instead of the roadbed.
“Where are we?” Barlow shouted.
They turned to face him. Karen shook her head, looking bewildered.
Nick said, “How should I know?”
He lunged at her, his pistol raised to strike, but at the last minute caught himself, and pivoted away without making contact. “Move! Back the way we came. We’ve got to retrace our steps before the snow covers them.”
“It’s late,” Nick pointed out. “It’ll be dark soon.”
“Move,” he commanded.
The light was gone in less than an hour, and the snow was coming down harder than ever. Their footprints, barely discernable, would be erased long before morning.
Finally, Barlow had no choice but to call a halt and take shelter beneath the boughs of a pine tree. At the base of its trunk, the fallen pine needles were relatively dry. Nick settled her back against the rough bark. Karen did the same on the other side of the tree. Barlow sat as far from them as the spread of the over-hanging branches allowed.
“Throw me one of the backpacks,” he said.
Nick was too tired to throw it. The best she could do was shove it toward him.
“Survival manuals say we should huddle together for warmth,” Nick told him.
“Not me,” he answered. “You two women get as cozy as you want.”
Karen leaned partially around the tree to whisper, “Keep your distance from me, Nick. I’m sick.”
“So soon?”
“I’ll know by morning. How many energy bars do we have?”
Nick reached into the pack. “One carton. About two days’ worth, I think.”
“We’d better eat at least two tonight. We’ve got to keep warm.”
Oddly enough, Nick wasn’t hungry, but she knew the doctor was right. Calories meant warmth. She slipped off her gloves long enough to unwrap an energy bar, then chewed slowly to make each mouthful last. The three bars in the pocket of her parka, she’d keep to herself as an emergency ration.
Barlow, she knew, had another carton in his backpack that he had picked up from the base camp. That meant twice as much food for him.
Once she’d finished her second bar, Nick wiggled into her sleeping bag, where she lay shaking and waiting for her body heat to build up. She remembered reading a survival manual that said freezing was an easy way to die. Like hell. That had probably been written by someone sitting in front of a warm fire.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, her shaking subsided and she felt warm enough to slip off her parka and use it for a pillow. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep, but her body betrayed her. Her stomach started growling with hunger.
Think about something else, she told herself, but her mouth watered at the thought of just one more energy bar. Think, for God’s sake. Think of a plan. Maybe, when Barlow fell asleep, she could sneak away and find the road back to the cars. You’re fooling yourself. There was no road anymore, just snow.
The Fords had four-wheel drive; they could make it through the snow. But she had to find them first. If she didn’t, she’d die alone.
To hell with that. She wanted to see Barlow dead, and with him the Spanish Lady. The only way to do that was to outlast the bastard.