Page 52 of So Dark

But he could have given Kelly something more meaningful than sex. He could have taught her how to survive in the wilderness as he had.

Victor remembered very little of his childhood. His mother had never been in the picture. His father was a stern man who spoke very little. They lived in a cabin in the Yukon and ate whatever they hunted or gathered. His father must have taught him some things, but Victor didn’t remember the lessons. Not the one his dad taught him anyway.

His dad was taken by a bear when Victor was ten years old. After that, Victor was on his own. And he’d done fine. He hunted, fished and gathered, chopped firewood, and made clothing from the skins of the animals he killed. He couldn’t remember if he missed his father or not. Probably he had. The old man was the only company he’d had for any length of time, and he’d never abused Victor.

But death happened. That was part of life. Sometimes you beat the bear, and sometimes, the bear beat you.

He’d learned to set traps because his small size made it difficult for him to use his bow effectively for anything larger than geese or hares. He had to protect himself from bears and wolves, and he needed to take elk and moose every now and then, and snares and traps were the only way he could manage big game.

But he’d managed. He’d grown bigger and stronger, and when he was fourteen, he decided he was strong enough to leave the cabin and strike out on his own.

So he had. He’d headed north first, but past the tundra there was nothing but ice. He knew it was possible to live up there. The natives built igloos and hunted seals and whales for blubber. They protected themselves from polar bears using spears made from whale bones and opened holes in the ice to fish.

He respected the hell out of those natives. They were one of the few peoples on Earth that remembered how to live the way nature intended. They survived in an environment even harsher than the one in which Victor thrived.

But that wasn’t for him. He liked the forest. He knew it. It was his home, and it was even more vast and beautiful than the ice cap.

So, he headed south again. He went east for a while and for many years explored the empty Canadian wilderness. He traveled far, how far, he didn’t know, but hundreds of miles, at least. When he decided he’d journeyed east as far as he wanted, he turned west.

It was here, in Alaska, that he first came into contact with other people. That was ten years ago now. He had walked into the small village of Copper River out of curiosity and found people who would accept him even if they didn’t quite understand him.

Those were good days. Sometimes, Victor wished he could be content with being the slightly odd frequent visitor whowould share tales of the wilderness to listening ears around the bar. Alcohol was the only modern human convenience that he enjoyed, and the people who listened to his tales didn’t laugh. They looked at him like a sage, and damn it, that’s what he was.

But it wasn’t enough. Seeing fathers with their sons reminded him of his own father. He realized painfully that he hadn’t fathered any children to carry on his family legacy. There was no one who would remember how to live free from the protection of the herd and the holes they built for themselves.

So, he decided he would teach. He would find people interested in learning, not just listening. He looked around throughout the small towns scattered across the wilderness and found a group he was certain would understand and want what he had to offer them.

And they had laughed at him. They had scorned him. They had even dared to suggest that he was a fraud, a crazy drunk who wandered in looking like a caricature and tried to make friends so he could… what had Kelly said? Find some money for booze?

She would learn. She would live long enough to understand her mistake.

A scream split the night, and Victor grinned. She’d reached the cabin and found one of the traps. He moved less carefully now, pushing through the trees and stepping into the small clearing in front of the cabin Kelly had built so she could have supplies to rescue her from her incompetence in the wilderness.

Kelly sobbed. She tried to pry open the bear trap that had snapped shut around her right leg. She managed to open it about two inches before it snapped shut around her leg again. She screamed once more, and he watched, drinking in the sound.

Then she opened her eyes and saw him. Her face blanched. “You…”

“Me,” he agreed. “Hello, Kelly.”

“Oh God… Oh,God! Help! Help me!”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Come on, Kelly. You know there ain’t no one out here but you and me. Besides, God helps those who help themselves, not those who whore around for men who can help them.”

“You bastard! Leave me alone.Help!”

He shrugged. “I’m a bastard. That’s all right. I know better than to run straight into a damned bear trap.” He grinned at her again. “Hey, I have an idea. How about I drag you into the cabin, hang you up on the hooks I’ve built and cut pieces off of you until you die.”

She sobbed, and he nodded. “Yeah, that sounds good. Gonna have to break your other leg and both your arms first. Can’t have you flailing around.”

He stepped forward and caught a blur of motion out of the corner of his left eye. He spun around, hand flying for his knife, but the wolf sank its fangs into his shoulder and dragged him to the ground just as his fingers found the carved bone handle.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR

“You bastard! Leave me alone.Help!”

Turk pivoted to the left, honing in on the sound. Faith and Michael followed. Through the trees, she could see a flashlight beam about forty yards ahead. Turk lowered his head and charged toward it, barking and snarling as he sprinted ahead.

He leaped through the trees, and Faith heard a cry of pain, then a thump. A moment later, she and Michael ran through the trees. Michael cried out and skidded to a stop, holding out his arm so Faith stopped too.