Page 6 of Alaska Lights

When everything is ready, I call for either air, water, or refrigerated transport.

I partnered with Oklahoma and his friend Kentucky so my ranch can continue on however they see fit. I want it to continue to produce for communities. They count on me, and I don’t take that lightly.

Someone’s loud pounding of boots stomps down the hall to the kitchen to get some coffee brewing. Must be Soren. He always fucking stomps in the mornings.

I swing my legs over the bed and slam my hand on the alarm, smashing it to pieces.

“Damn it,” I growl, yanking the broken clock from the wall.

As if I need it. I’m always up before it goes off, and I replace these things three times a week because I lose my temper.

I stretch my neck to the left, then right, an ache attaching itself to my muscles. I haven’t said anything to Soren, Glenn, or Oklahoma, but I’m starting to feel the process of death. My body is already starting to break down. I’m losing my strength and speed. My appetite isn’t what it used to be.

I’m dying.

Maybe it won’t take six months after all.

One can only hope.

I stand, and a wave of dizziness hits me. The entire room tilts, and I grip the edge of the nightstand to keep me upright. My heart races so hard and fast, I can’t catch my breath.

I’m not sure if I can stand six months of this.

I sit down on the bed to give myself a few moments, glancing out the window to see the start of a cotton candy sky. Knowing my sunrises are on a clock now, I enjoy the beauty while I can.

I do love Alaska. It’s the most beautiful place in the world. I’d never want to live or die anywhere else. Nowhere has the beauty Alaska holds. I’m lucky to have been raised here, and I’ll be even luckier to die here and become one with the land I’ve worked so hard on.

Staring into the colorful sky brings my dizziness to a stop. I stand, waiting for the sway to hit me again, for the stiffness to ache my joints, but it never comes.

The feeling of Death must come in waves.

I open my bedroom door and shout down the darkened hallway. “I’ll be right out, Soren. Don’t start work without me.”

“I haven’t even made coffee yet,” he yells back at me, his voice riddled with sleep.

The bedroom door across the hall swings open, and a grumpy Glenn stares at me with narrow eyes and messy hair. “You two do this every morning. Fucking shouting so damn early. I need my beauty sleep.”

“No amount of sleep can fix that mug, Glenn!” Soren quips.

Glenn growls and slams his door. I chuckle, easing my own door shut. Glenn stumbled upon my ranch around ten years ago. He was a newcomer stumbling his way through the woods in the middle of winter, which landed him on my doorstep.

I gave him a job, a bed, and the rest is history.

Soren is from the outside, the lower forty-eight of the U.S. He was in Montana and wanted a change of scenery. He found my listing on the internet, looking for a few extra ranch hands. Instead of calling me, he showed up at my door too.

They are the only two people who have kept me going, but when I’m gone, Soren will run the ranch, and Glenn will be his right-hand vampire.

I’ll miss them, even if I’ve kept my distance. I didn’t want to get close to them. I’m afraid that’s inevitable when you live with people. I’ve protected myself as much as I can. There’s nothing that can be done about it now.

I’ve isolated myself in the middle of the forest in Alaska, where the only way to the city is by air or ferry.

I guess no plan is perfect. Even when you’re planning for your death.

Yawning, I flip on the bathroom light and wince at how bright it is. My eyes burn more than usual, tears spilling down my cheeks from the sensitivity. The iridescent droplets glimmer against my tan skin, reminding me of the power they hold.

They can heal just like our blood can. I’ve heard of hunters wanting our blood, tears, and fangs. Blood and tears for healing and temporary enhanced abilities, and our fangs for prolonged life.

Luckily, I’ve never crossed paths with a hunter in all my years. I’m starting to think they are a myth.