Page 104 of Sleeping Giants
“It’s tasty,” Amanda said, eating the meat.
Amanda slept on the couch, and Pete slept on the floor. In the morning, she woke up early, stumbling over him on the way to the bathroom. He was awake by the time she returned, yawning hugely.
“Breakfast,” he said, and got up and made pancakes studded with nuts, and eaten with swaths of butter and syrup. His sister left her bedroom, where her little boy still slept, a huddle of warmth in the blankets. Pete’s mother was in her room, snoring mightily. It reminded Amanda of Larry. He had been snoring like that the night of the fire. It didn’t seem like that had been only two nights before, and that the man had chased her less than a week before that.
“You heading out?” Samantha asked.
Her brother nodded, eating the last of the pancakes. He signaled with his fork at Amanda’s plate.
“Those are nuts,” he said.
Amanda picked one up, chewed.
“I always tell him not to put weird shit in his pancakes. People like them plain,” his sister said, coming back with an armful of clothing for Amanda. She dumped it on the couch.
“Here, wear these,” she said.
Soon Amanda was dressed in a delightfully warm pair of pants and a thick, pillowy-soft parka lined with fur. Her boots were as light as air. She was amazed at how airy everything was, and yet so completely warm. The parka had a drawstring hood and came with a pair of warm gloves, attached to the sleeves so she wouldn’t lose them.
“All right, let’s go,” Pete said, pushing back from the table. He left his dishes for his sister, who gave him the stink eye.
Pete grabbed a rifle from near the door.
“Get my bag, will ya?”
Amanda complied, carrying the bag behind him to the snowmobile, which was now half buried in snow. He set it on the back with the rifle, and Amanda helped him push and rock the machine out of the drift.
“This is good weather. We’re lucky,” he said. “Last chance to use a real bathroom. For the rest of the day, you’ll be leaving droppings in the snow.”
“I’m fine. I just went.”
“Good. All aboard. Let’s go.”
They rode off, past more houses buried in snow. In the strange pale light, Amanda could see how small the village was.
“Where we are going, my people usually don’t go. It is the place of the bears,” Pete said, calling into the wind. “We don’t hunt there. The bears do. We leave them alone, and they leave us alone.”
They left the town for the white hills. Eventually, Pete stopped on a rise. Below them, the frozen ocean stretched out, all blue and white ice, jumbled from chaotic waves. A soft wind moaned over the frozen sea. Even at a distance, Amanda could hear the ice expanding and complaining.
“Don’t stare too long. You’ll get snow blindness,” Pete said. He reached into a compartment and handed her a pair of sunglasses. He started the snowmobile again and they kept driving, over the ridges. He drove down into what looked like a small valley. Amanda realized they were crossing a lake, frozen solid underneath them. The snowmobile treads creaked over the snow.
Pete pointed as they drove.
“The station is up there,” he called.
Amanda looked up. The old research station was on top of a hill overlooking the sea. She could see the wooden boards. The warning light had long since broken off.
“No point in going up there,” he said. “Sometimes male bears den in abandoned buildings. We don’t want to mess with them. They’re not what we’re looking for, anyhow.”
He kept driving, taking them deep into the hills, next to the frozen sea. The crevasses between the hills became nearly impassable, with giant hunks of ice and snow-covered rocks.
Pete stopped the machine.
“From here, we go on foot,” he said.
He went around the back and grabbed the rifle. This he put over his shoulder, and then he grabbed a long ice chisel, for testing the snow. He made sure Amanda was safely bundled into her parka, and carrying his bag.
“Walk directly behind me,” he said.
