End of Innocence
Chapter 36
Mountains south of Cimarron, 9,100 foot elevation
Right about now, Reese was wishing he still had Chase's truck and the plow. He could've plowed his way in from where he'd stopped – that same rutted road he'd traveled as a boy – from his fishing stream running alongside; and the same one he'd walked home on from the bus at school.
The road had disappeared; buried under snow deep enough to reach the middle of his thighs. Tough going, even in the powdery stuff at the top. He pushed himself on – thought maybe conditions'd be better up ahead.
A thick forest of bushes stretched over the road here; and now that he was close, Reese recognized what they were: wild raspberry – gone even wilder through the years. Bramble that'd once grown only at the sides of the road had long since taken over and blocked the way now.
Raspberry grew wild all over these mountains. Never made many berries this high up, and the animals got most of the fruit each year, but he remembered how small and sweet they were if he'd managed to pick a few for himself.
Knew better than to try to push through them. Sharp thorns along the canes would grab and slash any skin they could reach. Whatever the brambles had lost in fruit-making they'd more than made up for in thorns.
Sighting through the canes, naked from all their saw-toothed leaves this time of year, he could see a field of white beyond and then the line of junipers they'd used as a wind break, further on. Hard to see much more, just the hint of a few trees snugged up around the cabin.
On the left, Reese noticed the line of porch railing sagging, like that side of the porch had given way underneath. The roof still looked good, at least from here, but no telling how things inside might have weathered the years.
Any other time Reese would've grabbed his axe from the back of the car and chopped his way through. Needed another way now. Between the wound on his side, the elevation, and a low blood count, he knew he was no match for the brambles, alone.
That headache had gathered over an eye, with a sharp, stabbing pain like an icepick; and the queasy feeling was back. Chopping his way through the brambles like this'd lay him out on the snow, for sure. The less strenuous his work now, maybe the fewer symptoms he'd have to deal with later.
Reese glanced back at the car. Four-wheel-drive and good clearance underneath... Could work.
He turned himself around in the snow and chugged back through his trail. Once he was there at the car, he brushed whatever snow he could from his clothes. That's when he noticed the sound – and how it'd changed here, on the mountain: muffled, like snow was heading in.
He glanced at the sky and off in the distance a thick layer of gray cloud, descending. Probably had less than an hour before things'd dim too much to see.
If he was gonna try this, it had to be now.
Reese lifted himself to the driver's seat and settled in. The engine roared to life, shattering the peace.
A fine dusting of snow started to fall out there.
Backing the car a little way, he rolled forward in the snow then, with slow steady power toward the brambles. Better steady, even pressure than a sudden pulse of force.
Nudging in, the engine began to strain. Reese added a little more speed with his pedal, until canes snapped and crunched under his bumper. The front of his car started to lift, and then the whole thing rocked from side to side as tires grabbed and lost their grip. More cracking and crunching underneath as the front of the car dropped. Dozens of canes scraped and dragged along on the doors and under the chassis.
With a steady hand and steadier power, Reese coaxed the car through the rest of the canes, into the snow on the other side. The long scraping sound underneath ceased, and he was out in a field of white then.
No way to tell where the road was, and it didn't much matter here. He'd keep the car pointed far enough right to clear the junipers and after that, he'd swing left. The cabin should be fully in view by then.
Found himself breathing through his teeth, and not just from the pain in the front of his head, but from the thoughts running through, too. A wave of feeling bubbled up, but Reese pushed it away. Forced his mind onto his driving, instead.
Cold, dry snow squeaked under his tires, rumbling over the land beneath him.
Junipers stood like soldiers on his left, shoulder to shoulder, in a line. He craned his neck to see around them, but nothing to see yet. A palm went to the spot over his eye, throbbing with a sharp pulsing pain.
Pushed that away, too, and wouldn't think about it – just like the wave of feeling before.
Then, there it was.
Ghastly gray-white, like death, against the pure white of the falling snow. Dark hollows, like eyes, stared lifelessly from the front. The glass looked intact. He sighted along the railing for the porch. All the green was gone and the white of the pickets. The wood had weathered to the same gray. And here on the near side, something had failed underneath and the railing had ridden it down, breaking the line at the top.
Reese pushed through in the snow, sensing his way by memory.
Best not to get too close, he thought. Didn't wanna puncture a tire or trap himself in debris he couldn't see. He stopped about 10 meters back and waited.
Like a soldier, Reese let his eyes scan what he could see from there. Old and weathered in these harsh conditions - yet from here, surprisingly intact. Maybe not so bad inside then.
The snow was falling harder now. Starting to build on his windshield.
He needed to decide.
The door opened. Reese let himself down in the snow. Powdery above, with a heavier layer below. He sunk to his knees at this far out, but the snow had drifted deeper near the porch. In low light like this, hard to make out the details.
He pushed himself along, wading in knee-deep snow past his car, then in thigh-high drifts closer to the porch. Couldn't see any steps, just the gap in the railing where they should be. He felt along with his feet until he touched something hard in the snow.
Boards. But nothing straight like the riser on a step. More like a jumble scattered around under the snow. He felt his way along and up onto a board or two 'til he could reach for the end of the railing. Then he lifted a foot and felt for the edge of the porch.
Couldn't know if it was all there, or even if it would hold him to walk on it. Had to test it with his weight.
Seemed solid enough right there to hold him. He pulled himself up with the end of the railing, but the whole thing wobbled badly under his hand. Nearly tipped himself backwards into the snow, but he caught himself and scrambled forward enough to land on the edge.
Step-slide by step-slide, he advanced on the deck of the porch. The wood felt spongy under his weight; slowly rotting away season after season. Snow had drifted as high as his waist at the door. He felt for a knob in the snow.
A shove didn't even register on the door. Like a brick wall in front of him. He shoved harder the second time, but nothing again. One more heave-ho and Reese felt a little give that time.
Trouble was, each time he shoved, his head lit up with its own crescendo of pain. And his gut was sounding its own alarm. A bitter taste had washed up into his mouth. Reese knew what was coming next.
He sidled his way sideways along the deck, feeling with his feet for safe spots to step. A couple of minutes later, he was standing in front of the glass in one of the windows. Black with dirt. Reese lifted a handful of snow and rubbed it in a circle at eye-level.
Before he could clear a spot to look inside, a gush of saliva washed into his mouth. He had to turn away, wracked with wave after wave of dry-heaving. Not even water in his stomach to come up. He slid down in the snow against the wall of the cabin, clutching at his gut to hold himself together. Now he understood Shaw's warning not to drink with his meds. A whole day of this'd wreck him for weeks.
When the retching had finally stopped for a time, it'd left him weak and sweating. His head throbbed above his eyes.
Two more waves followed within minutes after the first, and Reese was left bent nearly to his knees, an arm pressed to the wood of the cabin – weak, shivering and sweating.
He dragged a hand through the snow and rubbed it on his lips, letting a little melt on his tongue to swish and spit away the bitter taste. He was shivering again inside his ski jacket, coated in a layer of cold sweat. Reese lifted his head to get his bearings.
Needed to make a decision: find a way inside, and hope to start a fire to warm himself, or turn back now in the snow.
Reese straightened himself, leaning on the cabin wall to steady himself.
He breathed through his nose to steady his stomach. All his muscles hurt from the waves of retching. He turned back to the window where a dirty circle of glass looked in.
From there he could see the kitchen, washed in gray from the dirt on the glass. Further back, the main living room, with an oval of gray-washed braided rug in the center. Couldn't see the woodstove from here, tucked back in the far-right corner. And would he find something to burn in there?
Another wave of hard shivering passed through him, and he had to work hard to will away another wave of retching. Kept his focus on the glass, training his eyes closer to the area behind the front door. Anything there blocking the door? Or was the thing just jammed somehow? He peered in the best he could – nothing in the way. Must be the door.
Reese glanced back at the car, covered in white now from the snow. Falling fast. Soon, no one could see to drive in it and too late to leave. Had to decide.
A wave of hard shivering shook through him and made his head pound. Glanced back to the car, then to the door, and back to the snow, sifting down.
So quiet…
Could almost feel himself letting go. Sinking. Like resting himself there, at the cabin he knew so well. His mind traveled to the pool and the stream that moved at just the right speed to keep it fresh and clear all summer long. His favorite place on earth. Closed his eyes.
Wouldn't be so bad…
"Wake up, Soldier!"
Took a while to sink in. So far away, at first.
"Get up!"
Louder that time. But maybe it'd go away.
"Last time, Soldier. Get up!"
He had a memory like that. Buried in the back of his brain somewhere.
Night mission. They'd flown in and jumped over unfriendly ground. He'd caught a tree limb with his chute on the way down. Slammed him against the trunk. Remembered cutting himself loose. Nothing after that, until a buddy showed up.
"Come on! Gotta go!" he said, shaking Reese's shoulder with a big meaty paw. An eye opened. Wasn't sure for a minute where he was. And then it all came back.
"Get up, Man! Gotta go," and Chase grabbed an arm to pull him up. Funny-looking without his curly red beard back then.
"Come on!"
Chase dragged him to his feet and threw an arm over his shoulders. Strong enough to carry him if he'd had to, but not if he could walk.
A few steps in, and Reese was back, falling in better with his cadence. They made their way forward in the dark.
Reese smiled a crooked smile. Gotta have a wingman…
He shivered inside his ski jacket.
Opened an eye.
"Was wondering when you were gonna wake up. Kinda waitin' 'til the last minute to leave, don't ya think?"
He didn't say anything. Wasn't expecting her to be there.
She waited.
This was John being John. Seemed like you always had to drag it out of him, if you wanted a word or two. Might take a while.
Reese raised his head and looked around. Snow falling hard, filling the windshield between swipes of the wipers. The glass had fogged – moisture inside from the snow melting off his clothes.
The heat felt good, full blast on his legs and his face. He turned to his right. She was still there in the seat.
"What are you doin' here?" in his whisper-voice.
She had that little smile in her eyes, then. The one that always said she was miles ahead; and things were gonna be okay.
"Ah, you know. Jus' checkin' up on – things."
She just watched him for a while. Nothing more she wanted to add.
A wave of feeling overcame him, and he turned away. His eyes landed on the cabin, blurry through the fog on the glass. Like it was all make-believe, he thought.
Had he really come all this way? Just to fail again, like this?
Reese ran the list for himself: Jessie – he'd never made it in time; Joss – failed to protect; Finch – he'd walked away; the new life back in Cimarron – walked away; Shaw – walked away. Seems like a trend here, he thought.
Maybe better if he'd stayed there in the snow, resting. Wouldn't be so bad like that…
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Reese stared through the glass, and an answer didn't come. His eyes filled and threatened to spill over down his face.
"Ya know?" she said, and paused for a moment, breaking the turmoil in his head. "It'll still be here. Whenever ya decide to come back." In that deep, husky voice of hers, so full of certainty.
He couldn't look at her. Wouldn't speak.
"Thing is, seems like there's more for you to do. Not done yet, Soldier."
Reese closed his eyes. Didn't wanna hear this if there was more.
But nothing else came.
Just a softness crossing over his lips, and in his ear, "I'll never leave you, John. Count on it."