“This isn’t bad,” she said when I re-entered. “The kitchen looks unused. But look! There’s a coffee pot. I can work with that.”
“Yeah. The generator will provide electricity for important stuff.” I flicked on the light. “But fuel is limited, so we might have to ration.” I hoped it wouldn’t come to that. I hoped we’d find the guy quickly and get back down the mountain.
Destiny’s voice trailed behind her as she walked off, looking around. “Bonus points for an actual bathroom. Is there running water?”
“The station is next to a well, and with the generator, the shower works. But it won’t be warm. Especially this time of year.”
“Please tell me the toilet works. Or is there an outhouse?”
“It’s a composting toilet, like you see in remote mountain houses. Those built off the grid.
“Shower and toilet. Almost paradise.”
“It gets better. That tired looking couch is a sleeper. When you’re ready to sleep, there are blankets and sheets in the bathroom closet.” I was slipping into one of my winter coats when Destiny returned to the living room area. “You know how to shoot?”
She nodded. “I’ve had to learn. There are more crazy monsters of the human variety than the kind we find proof of on our show.”
“Good.” I pulled my spare gun from my bag and showed her the safety and checked the clip. “You should be fine while I’m gone, but just in case.”
“You’re leaving now?” Her voice rose an octave as she took the gun.
“Yeah, I have to. By morning, the snow will cover any tracks or clues we’ll need to find Putnam.”
She nodded as if understanding the importance of my statement. Thankfully she didn’t argue.
“Be careful,” she said with worry in her eyes.
“It should only take a couple of hours. Don’t shoot me when I get back. I’ll knock twice so you’ll know it’s me.”
“Okay.” Her gaze softened as it met mine. She rested her hand on my arm. “Thank you for helping me.”
“I haven’t done anything yet,” I said, stepping away from her touch and grabbing my shotgun. I slid on a headlamp before stuffing a water bottle and a granola bar into each pocket just in case I found Putnam in bad condition. “There’s extra wood on the back porch. Try not to let the fire die down. There’s also a satellite phone in the room. Been months since it was last plugged in, but with the generator on it should charge pretty quickly. If I’m not back by midday tomorrow, I want you to use it.”
“Midday? But I thought you said a couple of hours.”
“Just in case,” I reiterated.
“I’m beginning to hate that phrase,” she said.
