Page 15

When I reach Glenn and Soren, I slide off Mustache Man before he comes to a complete stop. I pat his neck and let go of the reins, allowing him to head to the trough I have near the barn. He won’t go too far without me.

“What’s going on, Glenn?” I yank my ruined gloves off and tuck them in my back pocket, memories of a very old life still flashing in my mind.

There’s a saying, “Your whole life flashes before your eyes” when you’re dying. I’m curious if that’s what is happening to me now. Only I don’t get a millisecond to be reminded of every life I’ve lived. A millisecond isn’t long enough to hold all the memories I’ve made.

It will take months.

“I just got a message from air traffic control. They called me when you didn’t answer your phone, Alaska.”

That fucking cellphone. What a waste of time. If I wanted to talk to people, I’d have more friends.

“Did they explain why the pilot isn’t here with our goods yet?” I ask in a clipped, impatient tone.

“The plane crashed. According to them, he isn’t too far away from us. They said they have deployed search and rescue, but a bad storm is coming in through the night, bringing heavy wind and rain. They don’t know his exact location. His GPS failed.”

I give Soren a ‘told you so’ glare, and he gives me a guilty, tight smile.

“So now, we have to use our own resources to go save our supplies?”

“You’re worried about supplies?” Glenn barks at me with disappointment. “A man could be dead because⁠—”

“—He is dead. No one can survive a crash like that in a plane that small. If anything, we can recover some of our supplies. I’ll go alone. You two stay here. I’ll take Mustache Man and load up on essentials to take.”

Glenn and Soren rear back, their faces pinched with disgust. “You can’t be that far gone, Alaska. You can’t not care that a man is probably dead. A guy who⁠—”

Before I can think, I’m using the speed I thought I had lost and pushing Glenn against the nearest tree. My forearm is against his throat, my strength superior to his given my age. Even if the moment won’t last long, it does feel good to experience power again.

“Why should I care about a man I don’t know?” I tilt my head, trying to understand the concern on his face. “I have spent two centuries seeing people die, and you think I am cold?” I lean in and growl, “I am. I am frozen to my fucking core. Seeing people die now is part of my routine in life. Death is part of the cycle. If we get too caught up in it, we get afraid to live.”

“Like you?” Soren steps beside Glenn and grabs my arm, slinging it from Glenn’s chest. “How you’ve been too afraid to live?”

I slide my gaze from Glenn to my best friend. “I’m not afraid. I’m tired. There’s a difference. Death is something someone becomes used to after seeing it for so long. I’m not heartless. I’m used to it.”

“That’s sad.” Glenn rubs his neck.

I don’t disagree. “And? Sadness is what makes the heart grow cold. Don’t shame me when you have no idea what it’s like to live for as long as I have.” I turn to Soren. “You’re in charge while I’m gone.” I turn on my heel, heading to grab a few extra blankets, water, and whatever else humans need to survive.

If he is alive.

Soren spins me around by my arm. “You can’t be serious? You aren’t going alone. Most of the chores are done. I’ll go with you. Glenn can hold down the ranch. You aren’t healthy enough to travel that distance, Alaska. Not alone.”

I want to go alone. I’m not in the headspace for company. Granted, I’ll need help if any supplies are salvageable. I figured I could load up my horse, and he’ll know what to do. Mustache Man is smart. It doesn’t matter where he ends up; he knows his way home.

“Soren, I’m going alone. I’ll be fine. We need all hands on deck here. I’ll be okay. Honestly, there probably won’t be much to bring back. I’ll bring back the body, if there is anything left of him, so the family can lay him to rest.”

Soren’s jaw sets, the muscle flexing as he composes himself. “You’re so damn stubborn; it pisses me off. Fine, go off in the damn forest and die for all I care. I’m fucking done worrying about you.” He stomps away, kicking the ground so hard that he rips up chunks of dirt and grass.

Glenn sighs and places his hands on his hips as he tilts his head back to stare up at the sky. “He don’t mean that, Al. He’ll come around.”

“He shouldn’t. It will be easier if he hates me when I die.”

“And you don’t mean that either. You must think I don’t see it. The desperation of wanting more when you always strive for less. Less from people, less from the world, less from yourself in hopes that it will all make it easier or make more sense when you die. Alaska, we don’t want you to die. You’re our best friend. Even if you push us away more than half the time, we’re here, and we don’t want you to go anywhere. Why is that so wrong?

“Why can’t Soren go with you? If it is one of the last things you two do together. One last trip before your body can’t handle standing upright. Give him that. Fuck, Alaska. Don’t be such a dick in the last few months that we have you. Don’t make us resent you in your death.”

Mustache Man stands next to me, resting his chin on my shoulder, and I reach up, petting his black nose. Right above his top lip is a white pattern that looks like a distinguished gentleman’s mustache. He is a classy fellow.

“Soren!” I shout before he can walk through the front door.