Page 21 of Deadfall

I’d killed something—

“Emersyn.”

I turned and risked another glance at the dead bear. Sacha had yanked the knife out. He held it by the bloody blade and extended it hilt first.

“It’s your kill. You’re going to process it.”

He looked utterly feral in the dim light with blood splattered all over his face. I knew I probably looked the same, or worse even. I stood up on shaky legs and inhaled deeply. I smelled only death, and I fought the nausea as I stepped toward him.

I couldn’t overthink this. I forced myself to reach for it. My hand shook as I wrapped my fingers around the hilt. Even though I’d just used it to kill the bear, the deliberate choice to hold a knife weighed heavily on me. It definitely didn’t feel as comfortable as it had during the frenzy of the fight.

Sweat beaded on my brow and ran down my back. The scar on my face grew tight as my awareness of it sharpened—I pushed the anxiety aside. I could feel all of the scary emotions, and still not give up.

Sasha didn’t let go of the blade until I looked up at him.

“Show me what to do,” I said.

11

EMERSYN

Age 13

We didn’t get back to the cabin until late morning, and spent much of the rest of the day transporting and storing the bear meat. By the time the sun disappeared behind the trees, I was beyond tired. I somehow managed a shower and fell into bed, so exhausted even my nightmares stayed away.

The next morning, my entire body hurt from the fight with the bear and the subsequent work, but I made sure to be up with Sacha. I strode purposefully past him out the door to the chopping block. I’d seen the way he’d been moving since the bear attack, and it was obvious chopping wood was not going to go well with his injuries. So, despite my mind blasting warnings left and right, and my breakfast threatening to come up as my stomach roiled with nerves, I grabbed the ax and nodded toward the pile of wood waiting to be split.

“Show me,” I demanded.

Sacha didn’t protest, just gave me one of his long, appraising looks before he got me started with a few clipped instructions. He took over my job of stacking the splits in the workshop. At one point I felt his attention. When I glanced over, there was something I’d never seen in his eyes before—maybe pride?

“You’re different,” he stated.

I looked down at the ax in my hand, relieved that after working with it, I didn’t feel much anxiety about it anymore. It was simply a tool.

“It was time,” I said, shyly.

He gave a curt nod. “Come inside after you stack those.”

When I walked into the house, the crates and supplies from the drop were spread out across the kitchen table and the floor. It was a lot. Sacha went to one crate in particular and dug around. He pulled some clothing from it and handed the stack to me. I looked through it in shock. It was a pile of women’s clothes. Yoga pants, jeans, sports bras, t-shirts, and a few flannels and sweatshirts that actually fit me.

Sacha pointed to another crate. “That one has everything you’ll need for winter.”

I clutched the clothes and looked up at him.

“Thank you,” I managed to choke out.

He grunted a reply and then gestured to the rest. “Let’s put this stuff away.”

We spent the remainder of the morning unpacking and organizing. Sacha had gotten me everything I’d been missing, including all the toiletries and bathroom supplies I could ever need—to which he waved away my second choked up thank you, and muttered something in Russian about having another teenager in the house. I thought I saw a pained expression on his face, but he quickly turned away, and I was too emotional to ask what he meant.

That night I sat down at the table, freshly showered, in my new clothes that fit and for the first time since I’d been at the cabin, I felt like myself. Sacha shoved a plate of grilled bear meat, veggies and rice across the table. He followed it up with a fork—and a steak knife. The meat wasn’t cut up like it usually was. I swallowed my nerves and picked up the knife.

Nothing happened.

I guess after processing a bear and chopping wood, a small steak knife wasn’t anything to freak out about. I took my time cutting up the meat, unable to contain the small sense of accomplishment. At one point I glanced up at Sacha and saw him watching.

“Small stones, right?”