Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
There wasn’t, at least not for burning, and she found that the roof on part of the garage area had also collapsed. Not a ton, but enough she would be doing repairs for a long while. Back inside, she fixed Piros a bowl of food and set it down for him while she ate a sandwich she’d picked up at the store. She was too tired to make anything tonight. The kitchen would be useless aside from the fact the counters were solid and there were places for her to prepare her food. She had most of it in the kitchen on one of the counters in a couple tubs to keep any creatures from eating it.
Then she bedded down for the night, by the fire, with her dog at her side.
* * * *
Iris woke at five, according to her watch, and lay inside her sleeping bag for a moment as she realized where she was. Colorado. Not long before Christmas.
“Piros, sometimes I do the stupidest things.”
He thumped his tail.
“Thanks for the support.” She climbed out and shivered. The fire was her first priority, and she thanked every listening god that the chimney hadn’t been clogged and she hadn’t burned down the house with her and Piros in it.
After an extremely quick trip outside to take care of business, she got them both some food. While Piros ate, she headed out to the garage once more. With a much closer look at some wood out there, she realized she could board up some of the windows to help keep more heat contained.
After a few hours of working to bring the wood inside, she decided it was time to take a look around the property. Swapping out Piros’ blue collar for his bright orange hunting one, she also added his boots to his feet. He didn’t like them, but in this deep snow, he was going to need them.
“Let’s go, boy.”
Tracking their direction from the house, she allowed him to pick their heading. They paused at the edge of a large meadow. It was fucking breathtaking with the snow covering it. All across it were sastruga—ridges of snow formed by the wind.
Even with more snow falling and the wind not having ceased, it couldn’t take away from the spectacular imagery. She tugged up the collar of her coat, thinking it was time to get out of this storm.
Piros growled beside her. Head snapping instantly in the direction he looked, Iris narrowed her eyes against the stinging snow. Two steps, then her dog stopped and glanced back at her.
Shoving her hands deeper into her pockets, she scoffed. “If this is your way of telling me that Timmy is in the well, can we do it inside?”
Damn it! The dog had raced out over the field, a streak of rust against the pristine snow.
“You’re not even the right breed for that!” Her words were whipped away in the wind, and he didn’t even slow.
The barking came when he was out of sight.
Tucking her head against the weather, she set out after him. Almost halfway over the field, she could smell it. Burning. Metallic and some other smells, wood for one.
Shit.
She broke into a jog and pushed through the deep snow, which easily hit mid-thigh on her. The meadow dipped down at the far end and she could see at the bottom of the decline a small Learjet in tatters. It’d been torn apart in an obvious crash.
Have I said shit yet? Because holy fucking shit!
“Piros!” She wanted him by her and not in danger. A few flames still burned low but who knew how long ago this had happened. Her boy popped his head up from the other side of the wreckage and gave another bark.
I’m coming. I’m coming.
Habit had her checking her phone for a signal, but that wasn’t a success. She pushed it back in her pocket and made her way down the slope. Fairly prepared for the outdoors and what it could toss at her, this wasn’t something she would have thought of running into today. If ever.
“Hello? Anyone here?” No answer. “Is anyone still alive? Can you hear me?”
She passed a body and, even as she peeled off her glove-mitten combo to check for a pulse, she knew he was dead.
Another man, and she knew they were the pilots, and she found a woman whose bloody face had frozen twisted in fear. Iris closed her eyes as gently as she could. Surprisingly they weren’t frozen open. Another couple who had metal shoved through them were holding hands, as if that would have saved them.
Piros still hadn’t come up from where he was, a way off. The wind picked up again, and Iris checked the time. “What do you have, boy?”
She moved metal debris away to find a shoe print. Casting a look in all directions, she didn’t see any more, but given the wind and still-falling snow, that made sense. But even so, a print meant someone may have survived. May still be alive.