Darkness(29)

He was wolfing down his bar as if he hadn’t eaten in a week. “Depends.”

That did not help. Definitely. Not.

“On what?” She eyed him starkly.

“If they find us.”

Oh, God.

“They?” The question was out before she could stop it. She had a ridiculous urge to instantly clap both hands over her mouth in an attempt to stuff the imprudent word back inside. She was really, truly better off not knowing. She didn’t want to know.

He didn’t answer, not directly. Finishing his protein bar, he held out his hand for the water bottle, which she passed him. He took a swig and said, “You tell anybody about pulling me out of the sea? Over that radio?”

Gina could feel her heart beating way too fast. “I tried telling Arvid and Ray—two of my colleagues—about the plane crash, but I’m pretty sure they didn’t hear me. There was too much static. Once I spotted you, I was too focused on saving your life to try getting hold of them again until the transmission you interrupted by throwing my radio into the water.”

He ignored the pointed parts of her answer. “With any luck they think everybody who was on that plane is dead. In that case, we might be all right.”

There was that terrifying they again. Coupled as it was with the even more terrifying we, it was enough to make her blood run cold. The bite of protein bar she was swallowing suddenly felt like a clump of sand going down her throat. Coughing, she held out her hand for the water bottle and, when he passed it to her, chugged a few mouthfuls. Once more visions of taking off through the storm and leaving him behind danced through her head. Tantalizing visions. Which were immediately crushed by the rattling of the thin walls encircling them as another moaning blast of wind snaked around the rocks to shake the tent. Even if the storm lasted only a few hours, by the time it passed it would be the middle of the night. Only a fool would head out across Attu’s rough, arctic terrain in the middle of the night.

Gloomily she faced the truth: she couldn’t have been more trapped if she were chained to him.

“So you don’t think anyone heard your transmission about the crash?” he said, as if he was thinking something through. He definitely seemed stronger now. She didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing. “Did your friends know where you were?”

“They knew I was out in the boat.”

“They know where?”

“Not really, no. I tried telling them where the plane crash was over the radio, but I’m pretty sure they didn’t get the message because of all the static.”

“You took off from your camp alone?”

Gina shook her head. “A colleague and I left camp yesterday. We rescued a white-tailed eagle that got caught in some oil. Today my colleague walked back to camp, and I took the boat to follow the eagle and her mate back to their nest. I put in on the other side of Chirikof Point, but I could have gone in any direction, depending on which way the birds went.”

“Good thing for me you came my way.”

Gina made a noncommittal sound. Not such a good thing for me.

But then she thought of him dying all alone in that frigid water. She couldn’t bring herself to wish things had turned out that way, either.

Neither of them said anything more until, after finishing her protein bar and taking a few more sips of water, she handed him the bottle along with a couple of pills from one of the two-pill packets in the first aid kit.

“Extra Strength Tylenol,” she explained when he looked askance at the tablets she’d given him.

He eyed the small pills on his palm with disfavor. “That the best painkiller you have?”

“Yes.”

He swallowed the pills, chased them with a gulp of water, and looked at her.

“Got any more?”

“Tylenol? One more packet. I suggest you save it for later.”

“What about food? Water?”

“A couple of protein bars. No more water. If we have to, we can always gather snow and melt it.” That’s it, Gina, you can throw the “we” around, too. Make it sound like the two of you are a team. Although given how wet everything was going to be after the storm, gathering fuel for a fire might be a problem. But she could use the lighter flame by itself if necessary. She would need the pan, but she could dump the rocks out once they’d cooled.

She didn’t like to think about the rocks cooling. Their heat had already appreciably warmed the tent. Since she didn’t want to overheat—sweat was an enemy in cold conditions—she pushed back her hood and unzipped her parka. Beneath it she was wearing a red thermal long-sleeved tee tucked into her waterproof pants. Beneath the pants was a pair of jeans. The thermal tee was snug as befitted an inner layer. So were the jeans.

As her coat opened her hair spilled out to tumble around her face. Sometime over the last hour or so it had worked its way free of the bobby pins that had secured it. Shaking it back impatiently, gathering the mass of it in both hands, she ran a hand along the length of it to check for any remaining bobby pins and found none. Twisting it into a rope, she knotted it at her nape with the efficiency born of long practice. It wouldn’t stay that way for long, but for now at least it was out of her face.

Finishing, she looked up to find that he was watching her. Intently. The tee had a crew neck, so she was still covered from the base of her neck to the tips of her toes, even if her shape—small but round and firm breasts above a lithe waist and slim hips—was now more readily apparent. And her hair was just—hair. No need to feel uneasy under his gaze.