Page 12 of Corey
???
Corey’s eyes opened and the unusually cold living room made him shiver. Or maybe those were the chills still racking through his body. The fire had burned low, but the frigidness in the air was way too sharp. Which meant one thing—his heat stopped working at some point during the night. Again. And the generator never clicked on. Yeah, he’d been meaning to take a look at that.
“Fuck,” he hissed, sitting up too fast. Everything spun and he gripped the couch cushion, waiting for the merry-go-round to slow down. Or, better yet, to stop. But, of course, it didn’t.
Sick as a dog, Corey got to his feet and walked over to the thermostat. Fifty-three degrees. Hell, no wonder he felt like a popsicle. As soon as that thought crossed his mind, he suddenly felt hot. Probably had a fever.
His gaze landed on the empty log holder. He’d also meant to bring more wood in last night but had collapsed on the couch instead. Well, he had to do it now because he was in no mood to dick around trying to fix the thermostat.
“C’mon, Storm,” he said, reaching for his boots. After getting them on, he pulled his coat and gloves on. “Brace yourself, buddy.”
Throwing the door open, Corey and his wolf faced off with the polar vortex outside. Burrowing his face in the parka, he tugged his coat’s zipper up further and walked down the porch steps.
The snow had lightened up considerably, but it was still falling. While Storm ran off to take care of business, Corey looked over at the shed where he’d stored a shitload of wood. It looked so far away.
Take it one evolution at a time,he told himself, falling back on the mantra they used in SEAL training. He remembered the first time he’d heard it—he was trying to make it to the other side of the beach, exhausted and sleep-deprived, and wound up stumbling and getting a face full of sand. Overwhelmed, he lay there as someone rang the bell, signaling another guy dropping out.
The temptation to ring that goddamn bell and walk away hit him hard because knowing he had to get through twenty-four weeks of that shit seemed impossible. Until his instructor came up and told him, “One evolution at a time.”
The explanation hit home and gave him the mental fortitude needed to successfully navigate the long and grueling process by taking manageable steps. It taught him focus and resilience. It was a motto that helped him survive.
Focusing on the task at hand—making it to the shed—he put one boot in front of the other.
Once he reached it, he took a moment to rest. Dizziness washed over him and he couldn’t remember ever being this sick in his life. He felt like a decrepit old man with emphysema and debilitating arthritis. Hell, he hoped he didn’t have pneumonia. Didn’t old people die from that every day?
Suck it up, Emerson. You’re only forty-six and you probably—hopefully—don’t have pneumonia.And even if he did, his chances of recovery were excellent. Normally, he was in great physical shape.
As much as he hated it, he couldn’t deny that getting older sucked in every possible way. The aches and pains were real, and they increased a little more with each passing year. Of course, the alternative wasn’t much better. He liked to think he escaped death that day so long ago for a reason. But he still had no idea what it was or why he’d been allowed to walk away unharmed while two of his teammates and an innocent woman with eyes like the sea had died.
“Fuck. Not now.” Ignoring the crushing guilt, he pushed his shoulder off the door, grabbed some wood and stacked it in his arms. Normally, he filled the entire wheelbarrow and pushed it up to the porch and unloaded it.
Not today.At this rate, he’d be lucky if he made it with the five logs in his arms.
The wind whipped mercilessly against his face as he trudged through the snow, and Storm ran up, right on his heels. Halfway to the porch, he dropped a log and another wave of dizziness crashed over him. Without warning, his body decided it was done and he collapsed.
Maybe I’m dying.
It was the last thought in his head before his eyes closed, and he experienced an unexpectedly strange sense of comfort instead of sadness.
Chapter Five
Once daylight came and the snow began to lighten up, Sera decided to venture out and look around. Maybe she’d be lucky enough to run into someone who could help her. She wasn’t holding her breath, though. This was Montana wilderness at its finest. Absolute BFE.
Securely bundling Loki into his bubble carrier, she pulled the kitty backpack on and grabbed her overnight bag and purse. She also made sure to carry her pepper spray. She had no idea where she was or where she’d end up, but maybe she’d stumble onto a motel.
Wanting to avoid the road in case those men were still looking for her, she opted for walking deeper into the woods. The snow wasn’t as deep, and the dense treetop canopy provided good cover from the weather and any searching eyes.
Loki was used to hiking in his carrier, so he settled right in as Sera trekked through the snow. A little over a foot had fallen throughout the night, but the good news was it seemed like it had mostly stopped. The cold wind blew the flakes around and within ten minutes the shock of the icy air left her second-guessing her hike. Wearing only a light jacket and canvas tennis shoes, which had soaked through within the first two minutes of walking, she was hardly prepared for a Montana winter.
She had no idea if she was walking in the right direction or further away from civilization and the possibility of rescue.Did anyone actually live out here?she wondered.
Just as she was beginning to think her hike was a lost cause, Sera smelled the faintest tinge of smoke in the air. Hope welled up inside her and she picked up her pace. After another minute of walking, the trees thinned out enough for her to see a cabin in the distance. It was a big, modern-looking log cabin with a small wisp of smoke curling from the chimney.
Oh, thank God.She wanted to jump up and down, but instead, she tightened her hold on the pepper spray. As much as she wanted to believe in humanity and people wanting to help someone in trouble, she didn’t anymore. Not after what she’d gone through last year. Yes, there had been heroes, but her mind always seemed to remember the monster.
Huddling against a pine tree, she took a moment to scope out the situation before making a move. It was so quiet, she swore she could hear each snowflake as it hit the ground. When Loki shifted in the backpack, she knew she had to move or risk her wet shoes eventually freezing to the spot.
She saw her breath as she released it and stepped forward, her tennis shoes crunching through the snow. Halfway to the cabin, she abruptly stopped, her limbs freezing up.
