After more than a week of steadily heavier hints, Will finally asked Alec if he would go with him into the woods on a hunting trip. Something in the way he asked implied that he had more on his mind than simply hunting. Alec agreed.
They set off across the solidly frozen lake early one morning, as the Sun was just starting to brighten the eastern sky. Alec felt plainly nervous about walking on ice, even though the snow atop it made the going easy. All that water below, he kept thinking. But Will chattered happily, even hummed to himself occasionally, perfectly at ease. So Alec shifted the heavy pack on his shoulder harness and tried to forget what would happen to them if the ice broke.
They spent the whole day up in the hills, moving straight ahead, following some inner sense of direction or purpose known only to Will. The snow was thinner up under the fir trees, barely a dusting on the ground.
“Will,” Alec asked, pulling up alongside his long-striding companion, “what are we hunting for?”
“Three men,” he replied, trying to replace his happy grin with a serious look. He was only partly successful.
“What? Men? With these?” Alec hefted the long-barrelled rifle Will had given him. It fired only one shot at a time.
“Well, maybe we won’t have to use the guns. They might come peacefully.”
“I thought we were going for meat... to eat.”
With a swipe at his nose, Will answered, “Nope. Trappers bring in plenty game for the table. Oh, we might bag a deer or something on our way back. But only after we deal with the thieves.”
“Thieves?”
Still striding along fast enough to force Alec to trot every few moments to catch up, Will answered, “They joined one of our scout parties late summer. I thought all they wanted was a safe, warm place to spend the cold months. But a couple weeks ago they took off with a wagonload of food, guns, and ammo.”
“A couple of weeks ago? They could be in Asia by now!”
“Nope, they’re not. They had to shoot their way past the gate guards, and one of ‘em was wounded. Killed two of our guards, by the way. Other guards followed them for a while, and we’ve had relays of scouts trailing them—at a distance. Don’t want anybody hurt unnecessarily.”
That made sense to Alec. But now, “We’re going to take them in?”
“Right. They’re holed up in a cave, out of food. One of them’s still in bad shape from his wounds, I imagine. The other two might listen to reason.”
“And if they don’t?”
Will hiked his eyebrows. “That’s why we’re carrying the rifles.”
They camped in the woods overnight and ate from the food they had carried with them. Only a small fire. They slept in sleeping bags. Alec was shivering when he woke up next dawn.
By midmorning they were halfway up a barren hill. Underneath its coating of snow, where the wind had blown bare patches, it looked as if the ground had been scorched black. No trees grew on the hillside, and only a few stunted, gnarled bushes stuck their tortured bare limbs out of the snow.
“There’s the cave,” Will said, pointing with his rifle.
Up near the top of the rocky hill was a black fissure between two large boulders.
A clatter of pebbles behind them made Alec whirl around, rifle cocked and levelled. He saw a man, old and gnarled as the nearby bushes, whiplash thin, with a cold-whitened face that was mostly bones and eyes. His mouth was sunken, toothless, and his heavy fur hat was jammed down until it merged with the bulky collar of his rough coat.
“They’re still in there,” the old man said to Will as he advanced carefully toward them. “Haven’t seen any signs of smoke or a fire for three days now.” He said fie-yuh for fire, an accent Alec hadn’t heard before.
“Not much firewood to be had around here, that’s for sure,” Will said.
“Eh-yup,” said the scout.
“Okay. Good.” Will wriggled out of his shoulder harness, reached inside the pack and took out two oblate metal objects. Grenades, Alec realized.
Pushing one grenade into each of his coat pockets, Will said to them, “You two stay here and cover me. I’m gonna see if they’ll listen to some sense.” He picked up his rifle and started scrambling toward the top of the hill.
Alec kneeled in the snow and clamped his rifle under his arm, pointing it in the general direction of the cave.
“They’re bad poison,” the scout muttered in his strange accent. “Caught Johnny Fullah last week and shot him through both knees. Left him crippled to bleed to death in the snow. Lucky I found him before the wolves did.”
Alec glanced at the old man, then put the rifle to his shoulder and aimed it dead at the cave opening. Will was nearly at the edge of the big boulder on the left of the cave.
“Hello the cave!” he shouted.
No reply.
“We know you’re in there. We know you’re cold and hungry and your friend needs medical help, if he’s not dead already. Come on out and we’ll take you back to the base. I’m a medic, I can help your wounded man.”
“And then hang us!” a voice shouted back. It sounded young and trembly to Alec.
“That’s up to the jury. You’ll get a fair trial.”
“We ain’t comin’ out!” It was definitely a young voice, cracking with fear.
Will talked with them for half an hour, patiently, almost pleasantly. He pointed out to them the hopelessness of their situation, urged them to come out peacefully.
Finally the voice said, “Okay... okay, you win...”
