Total pages in book: 194
Estimated words: 187754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 939(@200wpm)___ 751(@250wpm)___ 626(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 187754 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 939(@200wpm)___ 751(@250wpm)___ 626(@300wpm)
His own brother stole that from him, and we’ve been fighting desperately to steal it back ever since.
Never should have left him alone.
Thor and I never should have left Nevada. After high school, I went off to pursue boxing, and Thorin joined the Corps. Boxing competitively kept me on the road for years while Thor was stationed at Camp Lejeune during the rare times he wasn’t deployed.
“We’ve got you, Zeke,” Thor murmurs. “Let’s go home.”
Home.
The asylum we’d built, with our bare hands nine years ago, as high up as we dared on the most volatile mountain in the Cold Peaks.
We still have a few hours of daylight left, but we’ll never make it back to the cabin before dark, so we head south in the direction of home until we find the familiar cave we’ve made use of a time or two.
It has a narrow opening that keeps predators from calling it home and a water source nearby.
Thorin rips off his balaclava as soon as we’re inside, and I do the same. Zeke slides down the wall until he’s sitting on his ass, knees bent, and shoving his hands through his dark hair. We give him space as Thor and I inspect the small cave.
Something doesn’t feel right, and judging by the tension in Thor’s shoulders, whose instincts are even sharper than mine, I know it’s not paranoia.
He walks over to inspect a small pile of burnt kindling, stick, and flint shavings near the rear of the cave. The ashes haven’t yet scattered, telling me the hastily put-together fire pit had been recent.
Spotting fresh footprints in the dust, I crouch to examine them in the fading light.
“Thor,” I call out since he’s the better tracker. I’m ninety percent positive these tracks belong to two people—a man and a woman, judging by the size differences.
These mountains are closed to the public during winter, and we still have a few more weeks until spring and the trails become passable.
“What is it?” Thor walks over to stand next to me when I don’t respond.
I sneak a glance over my shoulder at Ezekiel, and only when I’m sure he’s paying us no mind do I look up at Thorin. “I think there were survivors,” I whisper.
His expression immediately becomes twisted. “What?”
“Someone’s been here.” He gives me a blank look. “Recently.”
“How do you know?”
I show Thor my findings and wait for him to tell me I’m wrong. When he swears under his breath, I know that I’m not. “This is less than a day old. We need to tell Zeke.”
“The hell we do.”
I rise to my full height but keep my voice low. “And why the hell not?”
“Because if it is Isaac, the last thing we need is Zeke losing his shit. You know what will happen if he does.”
Unconvinced, I cross my arms and stare him down. “Zeke’s a grown man, Thor. He can handle it.”
“Can he, though?”
“This isn’t your call to make.”
“What isn’t his call to make?”
Thorin and I startle, not having heard Zeke move from his spot by the mouth of the cave. Thor holds my gaze, silently communicating that it’s a bad idea, but I disagree.
“We think there were survivors,” I answer.
The color seeps from Zeke’s cheeks, and he goes utterly still.
“Shit,” I mumble.
“I told you he couldn’t handle it!” Thor shouts. Inside the small cave, his voice bounces off the walls.
Sucking my teeth at his dramatics, I snap my fingers in front of Zeke’s face. “Zeke, man. You with us, bro?”
Zeke blinks, and I count each one. After the first one, the knot in my stomach eases a fraction. His stare is long, but his eyes are clear. He’s not looking around in confusion as if he doesn’t know where he is or what day it is. The large knot in his throat bobs when he swallows. Zeke’s moving, and that’s what matters.
“I’m here,” he finally answers quietly, and though laden with fear and twisted memories of his time in his brother’s cult, it’s his voice that speaks.
Thorin and I take a collective breath of relief.
“This doesn’t change anything, Ezekiel. We don’t know who they are. They could be anyone. You’re safe.”
“Safe,” he repeats as if the word is foreign to him. These mountains have been our haven for nine years. Far longer than he’s been Isaac’s prisoner.
“We won’t let anyone hurt you,” Thorin vows. “But you have to promise that you’ll stay awake. If it is Isaac, the last thing we need is Seth running back to him or Bane going berserk. The trails of corpses those two will leave ends at our doorstep.”
“I don’t know if I can.”
As I reach for him, my heart breaks a little when Zeke flinches. Remembering that it’s me, he gives me a weak smile in invitation, and I slowly curl my arm around his shoulder. I feel Thorin doing the same to mine while his free hand cups the back of Zeke’s head. Our heads gravitate together, and the cave and the world outside fade away.