RedKnife (Skin Walkers Book 2) by Susan Bliler Page A

just…can’t.”
    “You’re not protecting me by keeping me here.  You’re keeping me prisoner, same as Monroe would.  You’re no better than him.”  She turned her back on him.  “Just leave.”
    When she didn’t hear him move, she scowled at him over her shoulder.  Another wave of angry tears flooded her eyes.  “I thought you didn’t like it inside.  Leave !”
    And he did.  With a barely audible click of the door, she was left alone.
    ***
    By the next morning, Cindy’s anger hadn’t faded any.  Although, she did feel slight guilt at RedKnife spending the night out in the cold, it wasn’t enough to diminish her ire.
    During the restless night, she’d formulated a plan.  He refused to let her leave, but that didn’t mean she had to stay.  She wasn’t a Montana girl, but navigating her way out of the snowy mountains couldn’t be that hard.  Could it?  Decided, she hurried to her room and quickly changed.  One pair of thermal pants and shirt went on under her jeans and long sleeve flannel shirt.  She pulled on two pair of socks and laced on the hiking boots RedKnife had provided for her.  Racing to the closet she pulled free her heavy coat, wrapped a scarf around her neck and stuffed her head into a beanie.
    Stepping out onto the porch as she donned her leather gloves, she half expected RedKnife to be standing there scowling at her.  To her relief, he wasn’t.
    Her feet disappeared into the snow with her first step off the porch, and she was glad she’d opted for two pairs of socks.  The snow was still falling, but the sun was trying to force its way through.  It made for an odd combination of blinding snow covered landscape with just enough bite to the air to remind her that Montana winters could be fatal.
    A few steps away from the cabin, and still no sign of RedKnife.  Really?  Could it be this easy?   Part of her was self-deprecating that she hadn’t attempted to just walk off sooner.
    After another dozen or so steps and no RedKnife, she shrugged and set off at a steady pace.  About a mile from the cabin, Cindy’s gait was full of confidence.  RedKnife hadn’t caught her, and she was far enough away now that she doubted he’d be able to track her, even if he wanted.  The snow hadn’t stopped, which meant that her tracks leading away from the cabin surely were covered over.  The hiking was hard.  Snow was past her knees in some places, and her pants were quickly beginning to soak through, which meant she needed to get off the mountain before nightfall.  The knowledge was enough to have her quickening her pace and forging through the demanding thirst that called her an idiot for not bringing a canteen or any food.
    Hours later, fear was riding her hard.  She was exhausted, she was starving, and she was dying of thirst.  She knew how survivors lost at sea felt.  It was torturous to be surrounded by snow knowing that all she needed to do was bend down, grab a handful, and shove it into her mouth.  Yet, she couldn’t.  She’d seen enough episodes of I Shouldn’t Be Alive to know better than to eat the snow.  It’d lower her body temperature and…  Her eyes darted to the sky.  Fuck!   The sun was setting fast.  Too fast.  Still surrounded by thick forest, she knew she was nowhere near getting to any town, let alone out of the mountains.  Worse, not only had the falling snow covered her tracks and prevented RedKnife from following her, but what she had hours earlier thought of as a blessing was now a curse.  Turning to look back, she saw that she couldn’t back track to the cabin either.  She was lost.  Alone in the snowy mountains, just like all the idiots she’d watched on that damn survival TV show.  The one where they’d barely survived, and hadn’t done so without frost bite claiming toes, fingers, or in some cases whole feet.  The memory was enough to have her forging on, wiggling her frozen toes in her boots in an attempt to get her circulation