Page 7 of High Intensity

“Good. What’s the deal with the other two horses?”

“Probably EIV. She took swabs and wants them isolated.”

“Hope that’ll be enough to contain it.”

Sadly, even horses without symptoms could be carriers, so it’s hard to keep it from spreading.

The overhead lights flicker briefly before coming on.

“Generators,” JD clarifies. “Jonas went to start them up. Main transformer along the thirty-seven east of town got knocked out. All of Libby is down. It’s a fucking mess.”

No shit. Power outages are not uncommon during storms out here—hence the generators at the ranch to keep the barn and the main house up and running—but having the entire grid go down is rare. Not everyone has the luxury of a generator.

“Any word on the team?” I ask.

“They found them. A snow slide swept them off the trail and the woman messed up her leg in the tumble. The boys got back before it got bad out there and hightailed it home when the power went off.”

Probably checking on their families in person. With the whole grid down, it likely impacts power to the cell towers as well.

From there my thoughts jump to Jillian, alone in her new house and probably without any way to connect to the outside world. I wonder how she’s staying warm.

My feet are already moving when I call out to JD over my shoulder.

“I’ve gotta go check on something.”

Three

Jillian

Dammit.

All I can find are these two measly tea light candles and they don’t do much for either light or heat. No oil lanterns or at the very least a damn flashlight in sight. I’m woefully unprepared for this power outage.

The wind is howling outside and I can feel the temperature dropping in here. I’ve been so focused on getting my house together and the boxes unpacked, I haven’t even thought about building a fire. Of course, I hadn’t considered I might need a fire to heat the house, to me they’re mostly for ambiance.

The dogs are huddled on the couch. My four plus River, who looks to be the only one sleeping fitfully. The others follow me around the house with their eyes, restless and maybe a little spooked by the storm. I haven’t heard anything from Sloane, but I assume she’s got her hands full just dealing with the storm, let alone the power outage. When I tried to check the forecast, I noticed I had zero reception, so she won’t be able to contact me either.

It also means I won’t be able to reach out to anyone, so I’ll have to do my own problem-solving.

Starting with heat.

There’s no firewood in here, and the supply the previous owner left stored in the garage is limited. Still, it’s better than nothing. Walking over to the window, I peer outside, barely able to see the detached building.

Well…I’m going to have to go out there eventually, unless I want to freeze to death. And who knows? Perhaps I can find something useful, like a goddamned flashlight.

Emo and Peanut start whining and jump off the couch when they see me getting dressed to go outside.

“No, we’re not going out now, guys. You’ve gotta wait here.”

Peanut immediately jumps back on the couch with a grunt, but Emo throws me a recriminating look, letting me know she’s not happy. It can’t be helped. I pull my knit beanie down over my ears, tie a scarf around my neck, and shove my feet in my snow boots. Then I carefully slip out the door.

Jesus, that wind is cold. My boots sink down in the fast-accumulating snow the moment I step off the porch. Shoving my hands in my pockets, I trudge in the direction of the garage. I have to squint my eyes to find my way and brace my shoulders against the near gale-force gusts.

It’s a bit eerie out here, without the lights from the house or the street, just a pale reflection off the blanket of snow. My lot is fairly treed, so I can’t really see the neighbors’ houses, but I assume if the streetlights are out, their houses will be without power as well.

I quickly realize I should’ve brought my phone so I could’ve at least used the flashlight on it, because when I step inside the garage, it’s very dark. I’m forced to hold my arms out in front of me to prevent running into things as I go in search of the firewood.

A stubbed toe and a couple of cobwebs in my face later, I find the woodpile and quickly load up with as many logs as my arms will hold. If I’d have thought this through, I would have grabbed an empty box or a bucket from the laundry room for easier transportation, but it is what it is.

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