Despite the horrific blizzard that had just passed Peter and his dog ghost were determined to venture into the dangerous Wolf Peak area the night before a mysterious streak of fire had torn across the sky followed by an explosion that shook the entire valley ghosts with a strange insistence LED Peter climbing through 4 foot snow drifts after hours the dog stopped scenting the air and barking Peter ran over and the strong smell of jet fuel hit him this was no civilian aircraft what he saw was the wreckage of a strange.

black machine made of a composite material he had never seen and then ghost barked again the dog had found an unconscious man dressed in an unusual flight suit barely alive in the snow please support us by subscribing to our channel the high altitude wind was a restless thing a constant pressure against the logs of the cabin it was the only sound Peter trusted it never changed and it never lied inside the silence was broken only by the crackle of the wood stove and the rhythmic soft breathing of the dog asleep at his feet

this was their life Peter and Ghost Peter was a man carved from the same hard lonely timber as the mountains around him at 46 he was tall and lean a wiry strength left over from his years in the army his brown hair was cut short surrendering to a distinguished silver at the temples and his face mostly hidden behind a thick but tidy beard was rugged but held a deep quiet kindness in the eyes he wore the uniform of the Bitterroot Valley in winter a thick flannel shirt worn denim and heavy wool socks he was sitting in his worn armchair a book open on his lap but he had not turned a page in an hour

his gaze was fixed on the cabin’s large window which now reflected only the warm light of the room outside the world had vanished a snowstorm the first real monster of the season had descended on North Star three days ago the small isolated Montana town was now completely cut off the plows would not even try to clear the mountain pass for at least another two days the phone line was dead a high pitched whine its only reply the internet reliant on a satellite dish buried under 2 feet of snow was a distant memory Peter did not mind the isolation

he had sought it out he had come here to the very edge of the wilderness to escape a world that moved too fast and spoke too loud he had also come here to heal though he knew some wounds never truly closed they just scarred over tight and pulling he felt the familiar pole now it started with the silence the silence of the snow it reminded him of the silence before the ticking of the mantle clock grew louder each click a hammer blow against his calm the walls of the small cabin seemed to shrink the warm air growing thick and heavy

he could smell the dust the ozone his vision narrowed before the panic could take root a cold wet nose pressed firmly into his palm Peter blinked he looked down ghost was no longer sleeping the five year old German Shepherd was standing his head resting on Peter’s knee looking up with an unnerving intelligent gaze ghost was a magnificent animal his coat was not the standard black and tan but a rare and beautiful silver gray that blended with the white fur on his chest and legs making him almost invisible in the snow he was a rescue found half starved near the Canadian border

but he carried himself with the quiet dignity of a wolf he was calm intuitive and Peter’s anchor to the real world the dog let out a low soft whine not of distress but of inquiry he pressed his head harder against Peter’s hand demanding attention pulling him back from the edge Peter let out the breath he had been holding the tightness in his chest eased the ticking clock faded back into the background hey boy Peter whispered his voice rough from disuse he scratched the dog behind the ears you’re right just the wind

just the snow ghost satisfied that Peter was present again released a soft sigh and lay back down resting his heavy chin on Peter’s boot the bond was intact the moment had passed Peter closed his book he stood stretching his stiff legs and walked to the window he wiped the condensation from the cold glass just a white wall ghost he said the snow was still falling thick and relentless looks like it’s just us for a while he was halfway to the kitchen to make coffee when Ghost’s head snapped up the dog’s ears flattened a low

deep growl rumbled in his chest a sound Peter had heard only twice before it was not a warning bark for a deer or a bear it was an alert what is it Peter said freezing ghost moved past him low to the ground and stood stiff legged at the cabin door his eyes fixed on the ceiling then Peter heard it it was not the wind it was a new sound a high pitched unnatural scream that seemed to tear through the fabric of the storm it was getting louder closer ghost began to bark a frantic desperate sound outside boy Peter grabbed his heavy leather coat from the peg

shoving his bare feet into his boots he trusted the dog’s instincts more than his own he threw open the cabin door just as the sound peaked the cold hit him like a physical blow stealing his breath what in the Peter looked up shielding his eyes against the driving snow the clouds tore open for one terrifying second a tear of orange light ripped across the night sky it was low far too low it was not a meteor it was angled wrong trailing black smoke and shedding sparks it was silent for a beat moving faster than any sound

it disappeared over the jagged silhouette of Wolf Peak the mountain that loomed over the valley Peter and ghost stood frozen on the porch the snow swirling around their legs five seconds later the sound hit them it was not an explosion it was a deep shuddering boom that seemed to come from the earth itself the windows of the cabin rattled in their frames a cascade of snow slid from the roof dumping onto the porch with a heavy whoosh then silence only the wind remained ghost stopped barking letting out a confused whine looking up at Peter for an explanation

Peter had none he stared into the darkness his heart hammering against his ribs for a reason entirely separate from his past his mind trained by years of service was already calculating the trajectory the speed the sound that wasn’t lightning Peter said to the storm that’s was a crash he stood there for a long time the cold seeping into his bones before he finally called ghost back inside and shut the door sleep was impossible the rest of the night was spent pacing drinking coffee and staring at the flames in the stove the sun rose late a weak grey smear in the east

the storm had finally broken leaving behind a world of pristine deadly white the snow was piled in massive drifts four feet deep in places Peter stood at the window ghost at his side looking at Wolf Peak it was at least a three hour hike in good weather in this it would be twice that it was dangerous the avalanche risk would be high the logical thing to do was to stay put to wait for the plows to wait for someone else but Peter knew he would not he was the only one who lived this deep in the valley he was the only one who had seen it

if someone was out there hurt they would not survive another night I guess we have to go look boy Peter said his voice resigned ghost wagged his tail once as if he had already known an hour later they were ready Peter was dressed in full winter gear snow shoes strapped to his feet he carried a heavy pack with a thermos of hot broth medical supplies flares and climbing rope ghost his thick fur providing all the insulation he needed bounded ahead his powerful legs plunging through the powder the hike was brutal the silence of the forest was absolute

broken only by Peter’s labored breathing and the crunch of his snowshoes ghost was their guide his nose to the snow instinctively picking the safest path they climbed for hours winding their way up the side of the mountain Peter’s lungs burned but his focus was absolute this was a mission this he understood it was ghost who found it first he stopped his head high sniffing the air he let out a sharp bark and bounded off the trail disappearing into a Grove of thick pines ghost wait Peter called pushing after him when he broke through the trees

he smelled it the acrid chemical smell of jet fuel sharp and wrong in the clean mountain air the crash site was a scar of violence a small sleek aircraft unlike anything Peter had ever seen was smashed into the mountainside it was not aluminum the wreckage was made of some dark matte black composite material that had shattered like glass there were no civilian markings no tail numbers he could recognize my God Peter breathed ghost was sniffing frantically at a large snowdrift 20 yards from the main wreckage

he started digging whining throwing plumes of snow behind him Peter ran his snow shoes sinking what is it boy what did you find he saw the boot first black tactical Peter dropped to his knees and dug with his gloved hands he uncovered a leg an arm and then the torso of a man dressed in a dark flight suit half buried in the snow his face turned away Peter’s training took over he felt for a pulse in the man’s neck it was there faint thready but it was there he was alive Peter quickly cleared the snow from the man’s face

he was young perhaps 30 with sharp features and dark hair plastered to his forehead Peter quickly checked for immediate trauma his hands running over the man’s limbs a severe break in the left leg possible internal injuries but no arterial bleeding he was hypothermic they had to move fast we gotta get him out of here ghost as Peter prepared to carefully move the stranger he checked the man’s pockets for identification anything that could tell him who this was he found a thin waterproof wallet inside there was an identification card

with a language Peter did not recognize but the name was clear in Roman characters Luca the man Luca groaned a sound of deep agonizing pain as Peter gently tried to shift him it’s okay Peter said his voice calm and steady the way he spoke to ghosts during a thunderstorm it’s okay I’ve got you we’re going to get you home ghost pressed close licking the stranger’s pale hand as if offering his own warmth his own assurance in the vast cold silence of the mountain the journey back was a controlled nightmare Luca was a dead weight unconscious and bleeding

Peter running on a adrenaline and a grim familiarity with trauma had fashioned a makeshift travois from pine branches and his own climbing rope dragging the wounded man down the treacherous snow choked slope ghost scouted ahead a silent gray shadow picking the path of least resistance his head constantly swiveling alert to the dangers of the fresh snowpack by the time Peter hauled the pilot onto the porch of his cabin his lungs were burning and his own old scars ached in protest he settled Luca onto the sturdy cot he kept by the fireplace

his movements economical and practiced he cut away the strange rubbery flight suit his military first aid training surging to the forefront the man’s left leg was a mess a clear compound fracture there was a deep laceration on his scalp that was still weeping blood and his breathing was shallow all right Luca let’s see what we can do for you Peter murmured more to himself than to the unconscious man he worked quickly cleaning the head wound applying pressure he fetched his own medical kit a comprehensive bag he kept for emergencies as he was laying out butterfly closures

he heard ghosts low woof from the door a moment later a sharp rapping echoed Peter open up I saw the smoke a wave of relief washed over Peter he unbarred the door the woman who pushed inside was a whirlwind of snow and practical energy this was Ivis the town’s only nurse and Peter’s closest perhaps only friend she was in her mid 40s with intelligent green eyes that had seen too much and a braid of Auburn hair that was already escaping its confines she was the one person in North Star who understood the silence he required

Pete what did you get into now she began shaking snow from her parka her eyes landed on the man on the cot and her tone shifted instantly from friendly exasperation to sharp professionalism Dear Lord she was at Luca’s side in a second pulling on sterile gloves from her own bag how long ago found him at the peak an hour maybe two after sunrise crash happened last night Peter reported falling into the familiar rhythm of an assistant vitals a week he’s in shock deep hypothermia Ivis assessed her fingers on Luca’s throat

this leg is bad but it’s the internal bleeding I’m worried about he’s bleeding somewhere we can’t see her eyes met Peter’s he’s in a very bad way we can’t move him not with the pass closed so we stabilize him here Peter stated it was not a question we try for the next hour they worked in tandem a practiced team Ivis set the leg as best she could creating a rigid splint Peter held the man steady murmuring reassurances that were meant more for himself than the patient ghost lay by the fire his head on his paws watching every move with intense

quiet observation as Ivis was finishing a bandage the man’s eyelids fluttered he groaned a sound of pure agony and his eyes opened they were dark and wide with terror he tried to sit up hissing in a language Peter did not recognize easy easy Peter said placing a firm gentle hand on his shoulder you’re safe you’re in a cabin you were in a crash the man Luca stared at him his gaze darting from Peter to Ivas and then to ghost who had risen to his feet where where am his voice was a raw whisper his English heavily accented

the words broken Montana the Bitterroot Mountains Peter said slowly you’re safe plane Luca gasped wincing the snow the storm he seemed to gather himself his eyes focusing I am photographer wildlife the engine it is gone the storm it was too strong Peter and Ivas exchanged a look a wildlife photographer flying a plane that looked like a military prototype in the worst storm of the decade the story was as thin as the ice on the creek before either of them could respond ghost let out a low growl his attention fixed on the door a heavy authoritative knock followed

Peter’s shoulders tensed he glanced at Ivis who gave a small worried shake of her head he went to the door and opened it the man standing on the porch was tall and broad filling the frame he wore a heavy wool coat that failed to hide his imposing nature this was Barnes the former sheriff of North Star he was a man in his late 60s with a face like carved granite and eyes the color of a frozen lake he had retired five years prior but he had never relinquished his air of absolute authority Peter Barnes said his voice a low rumble

he did not ask to come in he simply stepped past Peter his gaze immediately landing on Luca heard there was a commotion someone in town saw the smoke plume from the peak Ivis stepped forward wiping her hands on a cloth he’s a crash survivor Barnes name’s Luca he’s a photographer his plane went down in the storm Barnes grunted his eyes assessing the pilot with deep unconcealed suspicion he looked at the splint the bandages and then at Peter a photographer is that right flying in a blizzard must have been desperate for a picture he’s severely injured Iva said

her voice firm he needs rest not an interrogation he’s in my town Ivas that makes him my business Barnes retorted he walked over to the fragments of the flight suit Peter had cut away and left by the door he picked one up rubbing the strange composite fabric between his thumb and forefinger I’m going up to the crash site Barnes announced his eyes locking on Peter see what kind of camera this photographer was using the snow’s too deep it’s not safe Peter said it wasn’t too deep for you Barnes countered I’ll be back

he turned and left the cabin door closing with a heavy final sound that man is a bully Ivas said quietly her brow furrowed he’s suspicious Peter said and he’s not wrong to be he looked at Luca who had closed his eyes again his face pale and slick with sweat two hours later Barnes returned the snow on his coat told Peter he had made the trip well Barnes said standing in the center of the room dripping melting snow onto the wooden floor I’ve seen it and I can tell you one thing he pointed a thick finger at the resting pilot that man is no photographer

Barnes Ivis started don’t Barnes me Ivis the plane is made of some kind of black metal I’ve never seen shattered like obsidian there are symbols on the tail fin that don’t belong to any airline I know it’s advanced military he looked at Peter you’re a soldier you saw it you know I’m right Peter did not could not answer you’re harboring him Peter Barnes said his voice dangerously low whatever he is he’s trouble and you brought it to your door Barnes left without another word leaving a heavy silence in his wake later that evening as dusk painted the snow blue

Ivas prepared to leave I’ll be back in the morning she said packing her bag keep him warm try to get some broth into him if he wakes she paused at the door touching Peter’s arm be careful Pete Barnes speaks for a lot of the fear in this town after she left Peter was alone with the sleeping pilot and the dog Barnes’s words echoed in his head you know I’m right he did the feeling had been nagging him a cold knot in his stomach a soldier’s instinct he looked at ghost who was watching him always watching I have to go back Peter said

just one more look something doesn’t add up he grabbed his coat the air was frigid the stars sharp and cold overhead he and ghost moved quickly their steps silent in the deep powder the crash site was eerie in the moonlight a black wound in the white snow Peter went straight to the cockpit searching again nothing ghost however was not with him the dog was 20 yards away at the very spot where he had first found Luca he was digging his paws moving in a blur whining with a low focused intensity what is it boy Peter moved toward him his heart suddenly quickening

what did you find ghost was digging at the base of a snowdrift near where Luca had been thrown Peter got on his knees pushing the snow away with his hands his gloves hit something hard it was not a rock it was metal he cleared the snow away his breath fogging in the air it was a case a small dark grey metal briefcase reinforced at the corners it looked like it could survive a direct blast there were no markings just a complex high security locking keypad on its face Peter pulled it free it was heavy this was what Barnes had missed

this was what the pilot had been carrying this was what the strange advanced plane was for his soldier’s instinct the one that had kept him alive for years screamed at him this was not just trouble this was the reason for the crash his first thought was to call Barnes his second faster and colder was number Barnes was fear Barnes was authority Peter did not trust authority he needed to know what this was he needed to understand the truth before the fear took over he tucked the small heavy case under his parka against his chest it was cold as ice

let’s go home ghost Peter whispered his voice tight we saw nothing you understand me we saw nothing ghost looked up at him the case and then back at the trail home he let out a soft single woof of understanding back in the cabin Luca was still asleep his breathing shallow Peter walked past him through the small kitchen and into the attached woodshed it was cold smelling of pine and oil he went to the far wall pulled aside a stack of split logs and knelt he worked his fingers under a floorboard he had cut himself years ago a place for things he did not want found

he placed the metal case into the dark hidden space he replaced the board the sound barely audible he kicked some sawdust over the seam and then restacked the wood it was gone the secret was kept the following morning the world outside was bright and dead the storm had passed leaving a sky of aching cloudless blue but the temperature had plummeted the snow which had been heavy and wet was now a fine glittering powder the isolation was no longer just about the snowdrifts it was about the cold Luca’s condition had worsened

the leg was angry and inflamed but it was the fever that worried Ivis she had returned at Dong her face etched with concern he’s septic Peter she said wringing out a cloth in a bowl of snow melt she placed the cold damp rag on Luca’s forehead he was delirious muttering his head tossing on the pillow his breathing is too shallow this isn’t just the crash he has an infection she looked at Peter her green eyes filled with a frustrating helplessness we need to get him to a hospital but I tried the town’s emergency satellite phone at the clinic it’s dead the whole town’s communication grid is down

the cold must have frozen the main hub Peter nodded his face grim he looked at the silent satellite phone on his own wall Mine’s dead too tried it all night I can’t call for a life flight I can’t even get advice from a doctor Ivis said her voice tight there’s only one person in this whole valley who might be able to fix it Peter looked up his expression guarded he distrusted bringing any more of the town’s drama to his door who Milo Ivas said Milo Kucharic the kid who manages the motel with his parents

he’s the only real electronics engineer we have if it’s a hardware problem he’s our only shot Peter did not like it he had seen the kid around town quiet and keeping to himself but he looked at Luca who was now shivering violently despite the blankets and the roaring fire he gave a curt reluctant nod Ivis went to her truck and used her short range radio the one that could just barely reach the town center an hour later a small rattling utility truck pulled up the long snowy drive ghost who had been sleeping by the fire rose to his feet his ears pricked he did not growl

but he stood as a silent gray Sentinel at Peter’s side Peter opened the door the young man standing on the porch was slight almost birdlike swimming in a high tech Parker that looked absurdly out of place against the rustic logs of the cabin this was Milo he was perhaps 25 with a thin face a shock of unruly dark hair and intelligent perpetually nervous eyes behind thick rimmed glasses he was the son of the check immigrants who ran the North Star Motel a quiet boy who had gone away to college for engineering and then returned much to the town’s confusion

to this remote low tech valley he clutched a heavy specialized tool kit to his chest ivus she called Milo said his voice quiet his eyes darting from Peter to the large dog said the the town hub is down and your satellite phone get in Peter said Milo stepped inside his boots hesitant on the wooden floor he immediately spotted Luca on the cot his eyes widened but he said nothing just quickly looked away the dog Milo asked staying near the door he’s fine Peter said his tone offering no further reassurance

the phone’s on the wall ghost did not take his eyes off the new arrival he remained standing watchful Milo nodded shedding his parka he was all nervous energy his hands quick and precise as he opened his kit he went to the satellite terminal unscrewed the panel and attached a small diagnostic tablet it’s not the phone Milo murmured mostly to himself the panel is getting power the problem is the dish the receiver on the roof it’s not connecting it’s either frozen solid or the alignment is completely off

can you fix it Peter asked his voice a low rumble he stood with his arms crossed a few feet away making no pretense of giving the man space maybe I need to check the main cabling junction see if the storm sheared it Milo said his focus entirely on the wires as Milo worked Ivis was tending to Luca the pilot was lost in the fever his body rigid with pain he was muttering again the words slurred but insistent Voda molen vas he rasped Zima takva Zima Peter just heard the sounds the desperate universal language of pain

Milo however froze his hand which had been deftly tracing a wire stopped the small screwdriver he was holding slipped from his fingers and clattered onto the floor the sound was shockingly loud in the quiet cabin Peter’s gaze snapped to Milo the young man was pale his mouth slightly open he was staring at Luca his expression one of profound disbelieving shock what is it Peter demanded his voice sharp nothing Milo said bending quickly to retrieve his tool his hands were shaking he just startled me Luca groaned again his eyes squeezed shut

Oni su Oni raju pomozimi Milo looked as if he had been struck he glanced frantically at Peter and Eva’s who were watching him he needed to get them out of the room he turned to Peter his professional demeanor a thin mask over his sudden panic the the junction box it’s outside on the north wall by the generator it’s probably buried in a drift I need you to clear the snow away from it all of it I have to check the grounding wire or I could fry the whole system it was a plausible technical sounding request

Peter desperate to get the line working gave a curt nod Eva’s can you get me a fresh bowl of snow this water’s warm he said handing her the bowl Evas nodded and followed Peter to the door ghost Peter commanded watch the dog did not move from his spot his silver gray eyes fixed intently on Milo the moment the heavy cabin door thudded shut Milo was at the cot he dropped to his knees his face inches from Lucas he whispered the words tumbling out in the same clipped Eastern European tongue tsi Odnashi Luca’s eyes fluttered open

the delirium was still there but a spark of desperate lucid recognition cut through it he saw Milo and his hand shot out grabbing the front of Milo’s jacket with a desperate weak grip dah pomozimi who are you Myla whispered his voice trembling what was that plane oh Nilaju Luka rasped his eyes wild they lie they say spy I am not I am engineer like you they shot me down who who shot you Milo looked terrified trapped between the dying man and the locked door my own colleagues I found what they are doing the test it is a crime I took the proof

Luca’s breath hitched they will kill me for it they must not find the case molinbas please Milo felt the blood drain from his face a crime a case this was not a lost photographer this was something vast and dangerous why why me Milo asked his voice cracking Luca’s gaze softened for a second a flicker of shared understanding passing between them they look at you how Milo froze he knew exactly what Luca meant he thought of barns of the way the loggers at the diner looked through him the quiet dismissive air he had breathed

his entire life in this town he was the motel kid the foreigner the smart boy who didn’t belong he was useful like a tool but he was not one of them Luca was a stranger a possible enemy but in that moment he was the only person in the valley who saw Milo for exactly who he was they were the same isolated please Luca whispered again his grip failing the sound of heavy boots crunching on the porch broke the spell Milo leaped back to the terminal just as the door opened letting in a swirl of icy air Peter and Ivas entered

it’s clear Peter said brushing snow from his coat he looked at Milo then at ghost the dog had not moved but a low almost inaudible rumble was vibrating in his chest Milo kept his back to them gathering his tools with shaking hands it’s it’s no good he said his voice strained Peter’s eyes narrowed what do you mean the dish itself the main receiver the storm must have fried the circuitry or a piece of ice shattered the lens it’s dead Mister Peter I I can’t fix it it needs to be completely replaced I’m sorry

Peter looked at him his gaze flat and cold he looked at ghost who was still emitting that low warning hum Peter knew with the same certainty he felt in his bones before an ambush that Milo was lying right Peter said thanks for trying Milo grabbed his parka and his tool kit almost running to the door he fumbled with the latch I’ll I’ll tell Ivas if the town hub gets fixed he stammered not looking at anyone he slipped out the door and a moment later the sound of his truck’s engine straining against the snow filled the air

he drove away leaving Peter and Ivas in the heavy silence now thick with a new unspoken secret Milo for his part made it two miles down the road before he pulled over his truck idling in the vast white emptiness he slammed his hands against the steering wheel he was terrified he was a simple engineer he was not a spy he was not a soldier but he was also a man who had been invisible his entire life Luca’s words echoed in his head they lie he was torn torn between a deep instinctive loyalty to the only other man who shared his blood and his language

and a primal fear of the American authorities who held his entire family’s fragile life in their hands he decided his hand shaking that he had seen nothing heard nothing he would do nothing for now Luca was just a patient a man dying in a stranger’s cabin Milo put the truck in gear and drove toward the false safety of the town the cabin had become a place of waiting waiting for the fever to break waiting for the plows and now for Peter waiting for the other shoe to drop Milo’s lie hung in the air as cold and clear as the atmosphere outside

Peter knew the young engineer had not told the truth about the satellite phone and that knowledge coiled in his gut Luca remained delirious a vessel of pain and infection ivis was a constant stressed presence rotating cold compresses and checking the pilot’s weak pulse the antibiotics she had were broad spectrum but they were barely holding the line he needs a hospital Peter she said on the third morning her voice flat with exhaustion whatever is inside him is winning he can’t fight it off here as if summoned by the air of desperation

the sound of Milo’s rattling truck returned before the engine even cut off ghost was on his feet the silver gray fur on his shoulders rose not in aggression but in a display of profound controlled alertness he let out a single low huff it was not a growl it was a notification the threat has returned Peter put his hand on the dog’s head feeling the tension in the animal’s muscles I know boy Milo knocked a quick nervous tapping Peter opened the door Milo looked even more haggard than Ivas dark circles born of fear and sleeplessness were stark under his eyes

Ivis Peter he stammered holding up a small complex looking tool I’ve been thinking I’ve been reading the schematics for your system there might be a a hardwired bypass I might be able to boost the signal just using the local antenna but I have to check the internal wiring again it’s a long shot it was a good lie plausible technical and steeped in the language of help come in Peter said his voice flat Milo stepped inside trying to appear professional but his eyes immediately flickered to Luca he set his toolkit on the floor by the wall terminal near the cot

ghosts did not move from Peter’s side but his entire body was a rigid line of focus his gaze tracked Milo’s every move Peter can you help me Ivis called from the small kitchen I need to boil more snow for the compresses this bucket is too heavy for me Peter looked at ghost then at Milo who was already pretending to be absorbed by the wiring ghost stay he commanded the moment Peter disappeared into the kitchen Milo moved he knelt by the cot his back to the dog his hands fumbling with the wall plate Nemogu Milo whispered in their shared tongue

his voice frantic the phone I lied I cannot fix it they don’t trust me Luca’s eyes fluttered open a single moment of clarity in the feverish haze he recognized his countrymen Kofer Luka rasped the case Ona je vojnick the soldier Olga ima video Sam he has it I saw him G’day Milo whispered where Luca’s eyes started to roll back the fever reclaiming him radionica the workshop before Luca could say another word Milo felt a presence a low thoracic rumble more felt than heard vibrated the floorboards Milo froze he slowly turned his head

ghost was no longer by the fire he was standing directly behind Milo not two feet away he was not growling not showing his teeth he was simply there his silver gray eyes were locked on Milo with an intelligence that was far colder and more unnerving than any simple animal anger he was telling Milo without a sound that he had heard that he knew Milo scrambled back his hands up as if warding off a wolf nice dog good dog ghost did not move did not blink he just held his ground Peter came back into the room holding the heavy pot

he took in the scene at a glance Milo pale and pressed against the wall ghost standing guard over the cot everything alright Peter asked his voice deceptively calm yes fine just checking the wires Milo said his voice cracking he gestured at the wall it’s no good this isn’t going to work Peter’s gaze went from Milo to ghost the dog had not backed down he was now standing between Milo and the cot a clear living barrier Peter had known this dog for three years he had seen him gentle with Ivas playful with deer and lethally silent with a cornered coyote he had never seen this this cold

calculated containment of a human his trust which he gave out sparingly was absolute in this dog the dog was never wrong Milo seeing he could get no closer to Luca gathered his tools he was visibly trembling he had to try another way he had to get the case it was the only leverage he had the only way to save Luca the only way to save himself he came back the next day this time Peter met him on the porch ghost was at his side standing in the open doorway a silent shadow what do you want Milo Peter asked the cold air fogged his words I

I know what’s wrong Milo said forcing a tone of helpfulness the town’s hub is down because the main transmitter is frozen but I’ve been thinking about the plane Peter’s face remained impassive go on the plane Milo said gesturing toward the peak it’s high tech it would have a flight data recorder a black box these things they have their own power sources their own communication protocols if I can get the black box I can use its transmitter to bypass the town system I can I can send a signal for help for Luca

Peter stared at him the silence stretched broken only by the wind in the pines a black box Peter repeated yes Milo said nodding eagerly sensing a breakthrough it would be a small case probably reinforced built to survive a crash heavy it would have been thrown clear have you have you seen anything like that Milo was describing the very case hidden under the floorboards of the woodshed the case Luca had just confirmed the existence of the case Milo could not possibly know about unless he and Luca had communicated

the lie was now complete and it was fatal ghost who had been standing at Peter’s heel took two slow deliberate steps forward he moved past Peter and stood in the center of the porch halfway between Peter and Milo he turned his body sideways presenting a full broad shouldered profile he did not look at the woodshed he looked directly at Milo Peter followed his dog’s logic ghost was not just guarding the house he was guarding the secret the dog had confirmed everything Peter suspected Peter’s decision was instantaneous he trusted the animal that had pulled him from his own nightmares

he did not trust the man who was building a new one no Peter said his voice quiet but with the finality of a locked door I haven’t seen anything like that Milo’s face fell but Peter this could save his life it’s the only way I haven’t seen it Peter said again his voice harder I think you should go home Milo don’t come back we’ll wait for the plows Milo looked from Peter’s cold resolved face to the unmoving silver gray dog he saw a man and an animal united in a single unbreachable front he knew he was defeated he nodded once a jerky angry motion and turned back to his truck

his mind racing Peter watched him go then shut the heavy door he looked down at ghost who was now relaxed his task complete good boy Peter murmured scratching the dog’s rough good boy you told me at that exact same moment 15 miles away Barnes was parked at Parker’s Ridge the highest drivable point in the county the wind rocked his heavy duty truck but he ignored it he was aiming a portable satellite data link his thick fingers clumsy on the frozen keypad come on come on you billion dollar piece of junk he muttered

the status light on the device turned from red to a solid welcome green he had a connection he quickly plugged in his digital camera the photos he had taken at the crash site the close UPS of the shattered black material the strange angular symbols on the tail fin began to upload agonizingly slow he typed a short message to a name he had not contacted since his retirement a contact at Fort Harrison need ID on this wreckage found Wolf Peak North Star survivor claims photographer I call bull urgent the progress bar hit 100%

the message was sent Barnes lowered the antenna a grim cold satisfaction on his face he looked out over the vast white valley now we’ll find out he said to the empty cab now we’ll see what kind of pictures you were taking Mister Luca the world thawed but it did not heal for two days after Milo’s last visit the temperature rose just enough to make the snow heavy and wet causing branches to snap with the sound of distant gunfire the risk of an avalanche was now at its peak inside the cabin the air was thick with the metallic smell of fever

Luca was fading his moments of lucidity were gone replaced by a constant unintelligible muttering in his native tongue his skin was grey his breathing a shallow rasp he’s losing Peter Ivis said her voice hollow she had not left the cabin in over 24 hours she was sitting by the cot her hand on Luca’s forehead the infection is in his blood if we don’t get him to a hospital he’s not going to make it through another night Peter stood at the window staring at the impassable wall of snow blocking his drive

he felt the old familiar weight of helplessness the kind that came when you were pinned down unable to act the plows won’t come not with the avalanche risk then we have to get the phone working Ivis insisted her eyes pleading try it again Peter sighed he had tried it every hour he went to the satellite terminal on the wall he picked up the receiver static he hung it up and hit the reboot switch just as he had done a dozen times before ghost who had been asleep at Peter’s feet let out a low whine the small 20 inch television in the corner of the room

which had been a screen of hissing white noise for five days suddenly flickered Peter and Ivis both froze a distorted snowy image appeared a local news anchor his voice garbled worst storm since 1993 authorities are urging all residents to stay off the roads we have a signal Peter said his voice tight he hit the power button on the satellite terminal the lights blinked from red to a slow pulsing green Ivis it’s working Ivis scrambled from the cot relief washing over her face call Saint Pat’s get me the life flight dispatch

Peter was already dialing the line rang and rang then a busy signal everyone in the valley must be trying to call out Ivis said her frustration returning on the television the local anchor suddenly held up a hand one moment we are yes we are being told to go to a national feed we are interrupting this broadcast for an urgent bulletin from the department of Homeland Security the screen cut to black then to a stark official seal a serious faced man in a suit appeared a national security alert banner running below him

Peter put the phone down this broadcast is an urgent warning to all citizens in the Mountain West specifically the states of Montana Idaho and Wyoming the anchor said his voice grave at approximately 0 200 hours 5 days ago an unidentified aircraft of unknown origin penetrated restricted United States airspace Peter and Ivis stared at the screen the aircraft failed to respond to military intercepts and was tracked heading northeast where it is believed to have gone down in the Bitterroot mountain range

Ivis’s hand went to her mouth Peter shh the anchor continued the following images obtained from satellite reconnaissance are of the confirmed wreckage an image filled the screen it was a high altitude black and white photograph it was blurry but the shape was undeniable a black scar against the white snow then a second image a close up clearly taken from a drone or aircraft Peter felt the blood drain from his face it was the wreckage on Wolf Peak the same shattered black composite material the same angular alien looking tail fin

with the strange symbols that Barnes had described it’s him Ivis whispered her voice trembling it’s Luca authorities have confirmed this aircraft was a high technology surveillance platform the anchor read his face grim this is an active and serious national security situation he looked directly into the camera the pilot or pilots of this aircraft have not been located based on the nature of the mission these individuals are considered highly trained armed and extremely dangerous citizens are warned not to approach if you have seen this aircraft

or any suspicious individuals in the Bitterroot area you are to contact authorities immediately the screen cut back to the local anchor who looked visibly shaken in the cabin the only sound was the crackling fire and the shallow rasping breath from the cot Peter and Ivas looked at each other then as one they looked at the extremely dangerous man Luca was shivering violently his eyes squeezed shut in a fever dream he looked less like a threat and more like a dying child ghost who had been watching the television with a curious tilt of his head suddenly stood he walked to the window

his body rigid and let out a low warning growl what is it boy Peter asked his voice rough but Ivis was staring at him her eyes wide with a new dawning horror Peter the case the one in your woodshed the one ghost found that’s what they’re looking for isn’t it is that why Milo Peter had no answer he was watching his dog Ghost’s growl was deeper now his gaze fixed on the long snow covered drive at that same moment in the North Star Grill the town’s only diner the same broadcast had just finished the small room filled with loggers and ranchers drinking their morning coffee was dead silent

every eye was on the television mounted in the corner Barnes sat alone in a booth his empty coffee mug in his hands a slow grim smile of pure vindication spread across his face he had received the reply from his military contact an hour ago this broadcast was just the public confirmation well I’ll be a logger named Hank muttered his face pale a spy a damned spy here the panic broke that’s what crashed on the peak did you hear that dangerous armed and he’s up there with Peter Barnes drained his mug and stood up his 6 foot 3 frame commanded the room

the ex sheriff the man of authority was back shut up he barked the room went silent you all heard it Barnes said his voice a low powerful rumble they told you I told you I knew it from the second I saw that wreckage and our own Peter he’s harboring him but Peter’s a veteran someone whispered Peter’s not right Hank snapped we all know it lives up there like a hermit with that wolf dog he’s probably a sympathizer he’s not a sympathizer Barnes said silencing the new rumor he’s compromised or he’s a fool it doesn’t matter what matters is we have an enemy agent on that mountain

the pass is closed the feds can’t get here it’s on us he pointed to Hank then to a quiet rancher named Jim Hank Jim you’re with me you know his property go home get your rifles and get your trucks we’re going up there and we’re taking that pilot we are not letting some foreign spy infect our town the men didn’t hesitate fear had turned to anger and they were looking for a leader they scrambled from their booths grabbing their coats we have to protect ourselves Barnes said his voice ringing with absolute cold certainty

it’s our duty back in the cabin Peter heard it ghost had been growling for a full minute a steady low rumble and now Peter heard what the dog had been warning him about the sound of engines not the high pitched whine of Milo’s small truck these were the deep throaty roars of heavy duty diesel engines multiple V Eights straining and fighting their way up his unplowed drive Peter moved to the window pushing aside the curtain his heart sank it was not the state police it was not the plows it was a convoy four heavy duty pickup trucks

their plow blades and oversized tires throwing up massive wings of snow were crawling their way toward his home he could see the gun rack in the back window of the lead truck he saw Barnes step out of the lead truck a heavy hunting rifle in his hand Peter stepped back from the window his mind flashing the walls of the cabin suddenly feeling like a trap Peter Ivis said her voice a terrified whisper what is that Peter looked at Ivas at the dying man on the cot and at his dog who now stood between his master and the door

a silent silver gray line of defense it’s the town Peter said his voice flat and dead all the old battlefield instincts flooding back they’re here the cabin door was a thin layer of wood against a wall of anger Peter stood behind it ghost pressed against his leg the dog’s body a solid tense mass of muscle outside the diesel engines idled a low throbbing threat that vibrated through the floor Heather Barnes’s voice boomed amplified by the cold thin air we know you’re in there open this door Ivis was pale her hands clenched at her sides don’t Peter

don’t they won’t wait Ivis he looked at Luca who was oblivious on the cot his breathing shallow he looked at ghost stay with her he commanded Peter unbarred the door and opened it stepping onto the porch he held his hands open and empty at his sides a gesture of non aggression that felt futile Barnes stood 3 feet away his face a mask of cold granite he held his rifle pointed safely at the ground but it was a clear symbol of his intent behind him Hank and Jim and three other men from the town fanned out

their expressions a mix of fear and righteous anger hand them over Peter Barnes said it was not a request I can’t do that Barnes Peter said his voice quiet but carrying in the cold that wasn’t a question Barnes snapped we saw the news you’re harboring a foreign enemy an armed and dangerous spy look inside Barnes Peter said gesturing with his chin toward the open door ghost was visible now standing in the doorway like a gray shadow his eyes fixed on Barnes he’s not a spy he’s a patient he’s septic he’s dying Ivis stepped forward

her voice shaking but firm it’s true Barnes I’m a nurse you all know me he’s dying of a massive infection moving him will kill him he’s not a threat to anyone Hank the big logger pushed forward that’s what you say Ivis the government says he’s dangerous you’d trust him he jabbed a gloved finger at Peter over a national security bulletin he’s been hiding him for days he’s a man Peter’s voice rose the first crack in his composure whatever he is he’s a human being and he is sick you can’t just take him we’re taking him to the authorities

Barnes said this is out of your hands as Barnes took a step toward the porch the sound of a different higher pitched engine made them all pause Milo’s small utility truck rattling and struggling in the deep snow ruts left by the larger pickups pulled up behind the convoy Milo got out his thin frame trembling he looked at the armed men at Barnes on the porch and at Peter he looked terrified a rabbit caught between two closing traps Peter saw the fear in Milo’s eyes he saw the same fear in Hank and Jim

this was not justice this was a panic fueled mob listen to me Peter tried again his voice dropping trying to reason with them this isn’t who we are this is a sick man he needs help your fight isn’t with him it’s not with me he’s right Hank sneered his anger looking for a new easier target his eyes landed on Milo who was lingering at the edge of the property afraid to approach afraid to leave he ain’t one of us Hank roared swinging his arm to point directly at Milo and neither is he what are you doing here motel kid

Milo froze every man turned to look at him you’re all the same Hank shouted the words ripping through the air you and him why don’t you go back where you came from the words struck Milo harder than a physical blow he saw his father’s face always smiling always deferential to the guests he saw his mother tirelessly working trying to erase her accent he saw himself the quiet smart boy who fixed their electronics but was never invited to their bonfires he saw the years of quiet polite exclusion the invisible wall that stood between his family and the real town

he was and always would be the outsider Luca’s feverish words from the cabin echoed in his mind they look at you how in that second the fear in Milo’s chest turned to a cold hard stone they had cornered him they had just told him in front of everyone that he did not belong that he was the same as the enemy on the cot if he was already the enemy he would act like one his choice was made it was no longer a choice it was an inevitability while all eyes were on the confrontation Milo’s terror found a focus

he knew what he had to do Barnes I’m telling you for the last time Peter said stepping in front of the doorway as Barnes moved forward you are not coming into my house then we’ll move you Barnes said raising his hand the crowd surged Hank and Jim grabbed Peter’s arms he instinctively tensed his training kicking in he ripped his arm free from Hank pushing him back no Ivis screamed ghost exploded from the doorway not barking but with a deep chest splitting snarl his teeth bared he planted himself in front of Peter

holding the line the men who were not afraid of Peter stumbled back from the dog this was the moment no one was watching Milo all their attention was on the man and the dog at the front door Milo slipped away his feet silent in the snow he moved around the side of the house his heart hammering he knew this property he had been here twice he knew the layout he reached the attached woodshed at the back the door was just latched he slipped inside into the cold dark space that smelled of pine sap and chainsaw oil

he scrambled to the corner pulling aside the stacked logs Peter had used to hide the spot his fingers found the loose floorboard he lifted it there in the dark space was the metal case his hands were shaking so badly he could barely lift it it was heavy dense he fumbled with his parka zipping the case inside the cold metal pressing against his ribs he had it but it was not enough he could not just walk away he had to create a diversion he had to get them away from the cabin he crept back out of the woodshed the shouting from the front was louder now

Milo moved to the main electrical junction box for the house mounted on the side wall near the loud chugging generator that kept the lights on as the town’s engineer he knew this box intimately he knew its weaknesses he pulled a heavy insulated screwdriver from his tool belt he looked back toward the front Peter was still arguing a wall of man and dog holding back the mob Milo took a deep breath he jammed the screwdriver between the two main terminals the result was instantaneous a blinding blue white flash exploded from the box

with a deafening crack sparks rained down hissing in the snow the generator choked sputtered and died in the cabin the lights the heater and Luca’s heart monitor instantly went dark the sudden flash and the plunging silence made the armed men yell in alarm spinning around what the hell was that it’s the generator in the chaos Milo staggered out from the side of the house clutching his arm his face a mask of manufactured terror he coughed the smell of ozone sharp in his lungs he he attacked me Milo screamed pointing toward the back of the cabin it’s Luca he’s running

he attacked me and he’s running he stumbled and fell to his knees as if weakened he went out the back he’s headed for the woods the lie was perfect it was everything the mob had feared the dangerous spy was loose and he was capable of sabotage Barnes was frozen his mind racing he looked at Peter who was staring in stunned disbelief he looked at the smoking junction box he looked at Milo who was coughing on the ground Hank Jim to the back Barnes roared his authority snapping back into place he’s making for the trees don’t let him get away the mob energized by a new

clear purpose broke and ran their boots churning the snow as they raced around the cabin to catch the phantom escapee Barnes gave Peter one last furious look this is on you he snarled before turning to follow his men Peter stood on the porch his body locked in a cold dawning dread Ivis let out a choked sob from the doorway Luca the man who was too weak to lift his own head had just attacked Milo and escaped out the back it was an impossible lie and in the confusion Peter saw Milo still on the ground look up for one fraction of a second

Milo’s terrified eyes met his and in that gaze Peter saw the truth it was not an escape it was a betrayal the chaos was absolute the shouts of Barnes and his men faded as they crashed through the woods behind the cabin chasing a ghost Peter stood on the porch his body locked his mind racing trying to process the impossible the smoking generator the sudden darkness Milo’s terrified lying face Peter Ivas’s voice was a thin trembling sound from the doorway the cat he turned he ran back into the cabin the room was dark the only light coming from the low dying embers in the wood stove

the electronic hum of the heart monitor was gone replaced by a terrifying silence the cot was empty Peter’s blood ran cold he ran through the small kitchen the back door the one that LED to the woodshed was open a few inches a slice of gray light cutting the gloom Milo’s lie had not been a diversion it had been a confession he had not just created a phantom he had taken a dying man he took him Peter said his voice flat with a terrible certainty he grabbed his heavy winter pack from the floor he checked the rifle he kept by the door

his movements fast and automatic Peter what are you doing Ivis was at his elbow her face white he took Luca and he took the case he slung the pack over his shoulders I’m going after them wait the phones Ivis said her own mind snapping back to the emergency the landline the satellite they were working I have to get to the clinic we have a short wave radio there I can reach the hospital in Mazula call the state police Peter paused she was right he was a tracker but she was a link to the outside world he nodded his face grim go bar your door do not engage anyone

use the radio and wait he gave her no time to argue he was out the door in a second ghost at his heel he did not follow the mob he circled the house easily picking up the two sets of tracks in the snow moving away from the cabin one was the deep panicked tread of Milo the other was a shuffling dragging barely human trail the trail of Luca at the same time a mile back in the woods Barnes stopped he held up a hand his posse of angry townsfolk stopped behind him quiet Barnes commanded they all listened there was nothing just the drip of melting snow

the call of a raven no crashing no running he’s gone Hank said breathing hard must have made the ridge Barnes knelt his eyes scanning the snow he saw their own tracks a chaotic mess he saw the tracks from Milo’s truck he saw Peter’s old tracks what he did not see was a third set of footprints there was no sign of an escapee he never came this way Barnes said his voice dangerously quiet what Jim asked but the kid the kid lied Barnes snarled the realization hitting him Milo he lied to us he’s with him the pieces clicked into place with the cold hard snap of a police radio

the sickness the desperation the kid’s strange shifty behavior why would he lie Hank asked because he’s one of them Barnes said he played us he sent us on a fool’s errand where would they go he didn’t need an answer he knew Luka was sick Ivis had said so they needed supplies they needed medicine they needed a vehicle that could handle the back roads something better than Milo’s rust bucket the clinic Barnes said his voice a low growl they’re going for the clinic for the ambulance and for her he turned ignoring the confused shouts of his men

keep searching fire three shots if you find anything he did not wait for a reply already moving back to his truck his long legs eating up the ground he was alone this was his town his responsibility The North Star Clinic was a small one story building at the edge of the town its back facing the woods Barnes parked his truck silently two blocks away and approached on foot his rifle held ready at his side he rounded the corner of the building and saw them Milo’s truck was parked by the back entrance its engine still ticking

Milo himself was dragging Luca through the snow Luca was barely conscious a dead weight draped in a heavy parka that Peter would have recognized as Milo’s Milo had the metal case tucked under his other arm a grim prize we’re here Luca Milo panted his voice a raw whisper just a few more feet we’ll get antibiotics we’ll get we’ll be safe he reached for the clinic’s back door handle it swung open and Barnes filled the doorway blocking the light going somewhere son Milo screamed stumbling back pulling Luca with him he shoved the pilot behind him shielding him get out of the way Barnes

leave us alone Barnes’s eyes were not on Milo they were locked on the metal case that’s it isn’t it Barnes said his voice cold that’s the prize that’s what they’re paying you for treason you don’t understand Milo shouted his voice cracking with panic he was trapped I understand treason Barnes said he stepped forward his hand reaching not for his rifle but for the case you don’t know what you’re doing son give that to me you’re in over your head no Milo screamed clutching the case you’re the one who doesn’t understand

he’s not the enemy Milo tried to shove past Barnes to get inside the clinic Barnes a man twice Milo’s size grabbed him by the front of the coat the force of the grip spun Milo around slamming him against the wall of the clinic Barnes had his heavy hunting shotgun slung over his right shoulder muzzle pointing down in the struggle the two men were tangled Milo desperate kicked and thrashed Barnes tried to pin him his arm coming up to restrain Milo’s flailing it happened in a split second of clumsy desperate physics as they slammed against the brick

Milo’s elbow came up striking the shotgun the stock of the heavy weapon snagged on Barnes’s own sling twisted and hit the wall hard the impact was just enough the boom of the shotgun was deafening a cannon shot in the enclosed space the sound echoed off the mountains and was gone Milo and Barnes both froze still locked in their embrace Barnes looked down a dark rapidly spreading stain was blooming high on the chest of his heavy wool coat he looked up at Milo his expression was not anger it was a deep profound and final surprise

he made a small choking sound his grip on Milo’s coat loosened he sagged his knees buckling and slid down the brick wall leaving a horrific wet red streak in his path he came to a rest sitting in the snow his rifle clattering beside him Milo stumbled back his hands held up his breath coming in short panicked gasps no he whispered no no I didn’t it was it was an accident it was he stared at his hands as if expecting to see blood on them he was shaking so violently he could barely stand he had killed him he had killed Barnes he was a murderer

at that moment the back door of the clinic which Barnes had been blocking was pulled open from the inside Ivis stood there her face white she had her hand on the clinic’s short wave radio transmitter which sat on a desk just inside the door she had beaten Barnes here she had heard the entire struggle the shout and the deafening shot her eyes went from Milo’s terrified face to the body of Barnes slumped in the snow oh God Ivis breathed her hand flying to her mouth Milo what what did you do Milo’s panic found a new sharp focus

he was no longer just a kid he was a killer he had the case he had the witness he could not be caught get back he screamed his voice a high pitched unfamiliar shriek he grabbed the semi conscious Luca by the parka and hauled him inside shoving past Ivis Luca collapsed onto the linoleum floor Milo followed the case clutched to his chest he kicked the door shut Milo he’s he’s dead Ives stammered backing away shut up Milo yelled his eyes wild the keys where are the ambulance keys Milo we have to call the police

it was Barnes now he shrieked slamming his fist on the desk inches from the radio give me the keys Ivis looked at the desperate broken young man in front of her this was not the quiet Milo she knew this was someone else someone pushed past the breaking point his eyes holding the wild terror of an animal she knew in that instant that he was capable of anything her hand shaking she reached for the hook on the wall and pulled down the keys the tag labeled ambulance swinging get in Milo ordered grabbing her arm you’re driving

driving where Milo we can’t just drive to the Border Trail the old logging road drive or I’ll I’ll he didn’t have to finish she nodded tears of terror streaming down her face Milo hauled Luca into the back of the ambulance throwing him onto the gurney he climbed into the passenger seat the metal case held tightly on his lap a prize that had just cost a man’s life Ivis her hands trembling so badly she could barely fit the key in the ignition started the engine the ambulance lurched its tires spinning and then shot out of the parking lot

leaving the town and the body of Barnes behind Peter did not wait for the shouts of the mob to fade he knew Milo’s lie for what it was he ran back to the cabin grabbed his pack and his rifle and burst out the back door ghost at his heels the trail was agonizingly clear in the snow two sets of tracks not one Milo’s frantic deep booted prints and a second shuffling dragging trail Luca Peter’s mind was a cold sharp void the betrayal the theft the danger to the town it all paled they had taken Luca a dying man into the killing cold

he and ghost moved fast cutting through the woods following the path of least resistance the tracks LED as Peter feared toward the town toward the only source of medicine and transport he moved with the practiced ground eating lope of his army days ghost a silent gray streak flowed ahead his nose down pausing only to ensure Peter was following they broke the tree line at the edge of town emerging behind the clinic and stopped Peter saw him first Barnes slumped against the brick wall in a sitting position

his head lowered to the side a dark frozen stain covered the front of his wool coat his shotgun lay beside him in the snow a few feet away the back door of the clinic was wide open and leading away from the building churning the snow into a muddy gray slurry were the deep distinct tracks of the town’s ambulance Ivis the void in Peter’s mind ignited it was not a slow burn it was an explosion a white hot consuming rage that burned away all thought guilt visceral and suffocating flooded him he had brought this to them

he had kept the secret he had hesitated and now Barnes was dead and Ivis was gone no he whispered the word a raw tear in the cold air ghost whined pressing against his leg sensing the seismic shift in his master find them ghost Peter’s voice was unghost was already moving his nose to the tire tracks a determined powerful engine of muscle and instinct Peter followed his rifle in his hands held at the low ready he was no longer Peter the hermit he was Sergeant Peter the tracker the soldier and this was not a rescue

it was a hunt the ambulance tracks were easy to follow they LED away from town up the old unplowed logging road that snaked toward the Canadian border Ivas must be driving her terror clear in the way the vehicle skidded and slid fighting the deep snow the world narrowed to the hunt the cold air burned his lungs the sound of his own breathing was too loud the snap of a twig under his boot sounded like a trap springing this was the trigger the high thin air the biting cold the overwhelming white of the snow

the rhythmic agonizing crunch of his boots the weight of the rifle in his hands the life of a friend on the line he had been here before not in Montana in the high deserts the frozen mountains the god forsaken valleys where every window held a threat and every shadow meant death his PTSD was not a memory it was a shroud it fell over him muffling the real world sharpening the imagined one ghost was his point man he was the fire team the anger was his fuel the guilt was his armor ghost suddenly stopped his head high sniffing the air Peter dropped to one knee

scanning the terrain the ambulance was ahead nose down in a deep snowdrift its driver’s side door hanging open they’re on foot Peter whispered ghost picked up the new trail instantly three sets of tracks clumsy and desperate heading up a steep exposed ridge Peter moved differently now he was off the trail moving through the trees parallel to them he was using the terrain for cover his movements were fluid silent lethal he felt a strange cold calm settle over him he was good at this this he understood the fear was gone replaced by a terrible

singular purpose ghost kept looking back at him a low confused whine in his throat the smell of his master had changed it was no longer the familiar scent of wood smoke coffee and sad patience it was the sharp metallic Tang of adrenaline and something else something cold and old on me boy Peter ordered his voice clipped they reached the top of the ridge coming to a small clearing that overlooked a vast open bowl of snow and Peter saw them 300 yards out three dark figures stark against the white they were moving slowly stumbling

one figure Milo was pulling the other Ivas Luca was a collapsed weight between them Peter did not hesitate he dropped to one knee the motion fluid he braced his rifle on a fallen log he flipped open the scope covers he breathed out the world compressed to the small clear circle of his optics the figures swam into focus but they were not Milo Ivis and Luca the snow was not snow it was the white sun scorched dust of a village street the wind was not wind it was the distant thin wail of a call to prayer the figures in the scope were dark robed hostiles

they had a hostage a member of his team dragged between them wounded he centered the crosshairs on the man in the lead the man pulling the hostage the target the one who had betrayed them the one who had LED the ambush the one who had his finger slid onto the trigger the cold metal was familiar a comfort he took up the slack his breath stopped his heart was a slow heavy drum in his ears he just had to squeeze one clean shot ghost had been tracking his nose buried in the snow but he froze he felt the sudden absolute stillness of his master he looked up Peter was not moving

he was a statue the scent coming from him was overwhelming a chemical blast of pure focused rage ghost whined a low anxious sound Peter did not hear him the world was the crosshairs ghost whipt off a short sharp bark of confusion down boy Peter whispered his voice a venomous hiss his finger tightened he was already calculating the bullet drop ghost sensing the final irreversible moment acted he shoved his cold wet nose hard against Peter’s trigger hand the sudden unexpected pressure made Peter’s finger jerk

damn it Peter hissed shoving the dog’s head away he reacquired his target he steadied his breath ghost lunged again this time he did not just nudge he shoved his entire head under Peter’s arm forcing the rifle barrel up up toward the empty sky he whined a high pitched desperate sound of pure distress the physical shock the cold wet nose against his skin the cry of his dog it shattered the illusion the dust of the village evaporated the wail of the call to prayer became the sigh of the wind in the pines

the figures in his scope snapped back into terrifying heartbreaking focus it was Milo a terrified kid his face streaked with tears pulling his friend it was Ivis her red hair a splash of color against the snow her body limp it was Luca a dying man Peter gasped pulling his finger off the trigger as if it were white hot iron he lowered the rifle his body consumed by a violent agonizing tremor oh god he choked out the words catching in his throat oh god ghost he dropped his forehead to the snow his breath coming in ragged painful sobs he had almost done it

he had almost he had almost killed her he had almost shot Ivis he had seen his friend as a hostage and her captor as the enemy and he had been willing to take the shot ghost pushed against him no longer frantic but with a deep concerned pressure the dog began to lick the tears and sweat from Peter’s face his body warm his presence absolute Peter wrapped his arm around the dog’s thick rough anchoring himself to the living breathing reality of the animal he buried his face in the dog’s fur the cold clean scent of him filling his lungs

pushing out the phantom smell of cordite and dust he was not a soldier he was a man he was not in a war he was in Montana and he had almost become the monster he stayed there for a long time the shudders racking his body until his breathing slowed ghost did not move a solid patient anchor in the storm of his master’s mind finally Peter raised his head the rage was gone burned out replaced by a cold aching clarity this was not a hunt this was a rescue he stood up his legs shaking and slung his rifle over his shoulder

he looked at ghost his eyes clear for the first time in hours okay boy he said his voice hoarse okay let’s go get her the rage had burned out leaving a chilling operational calm Peter moved with a purpose he had not felt in years the near fatal mistake on the ridge had shocked his system stripping away the PTSD fueled fury and replacing it with the cold sharp focus of a rescuer Ivis was alive that was all that mattered ghost sensing the change in his master had retaken the lead the dog was no longer a frantic anchor but a professional tracker his silver gray body

fluid and silent as he moved through the trees the trail was clear the footprints of the three fugitives deep and clumsy in the melting snow they had been moving for another 20 minutes when ghost stopped he stood at the edge of a clearing his head high his ears swivelling Peter dropped to one knee beside him his gaze sweeping the open space ahead almost swallowed by the forest was a dilapidated structure it was an old Border Patrol station abandoned since the 1980s a single story flat roofed building its windows boarded up its paint peeling

ghost whined a low soft sound his gaze was locked on the building they’re in there Peter whispered he moved slowly circling the clearing keeping to the trees his rifle was slung over his back he had almost used it to kill his best friend he would not make that mistake again this would be close as he got nearer he heard it a dull rhythmic thud a crack and a voice why won’t you break it was Milo his voice was a high pitched hysterical shriek punctuated by the sound of rock hitting metal Peter reached a gap where a section of the boarded up window

had rotted away he peered inside the room was dark filled with the debris of decades overturned desks rotted papers in the center Milo was on his knees his parka discarded he was using a large jagged rock slamming it again and again onto the metal case a few feet away Ivas was tied to an old metal chair her hands bound behind her with medical tape from her own kit her face was bruised her eyes wide with terror and on a moldy cot in the corner Luca lay shivering a pool of melted snow and filth around him he was no longer a spy or an engineer

he was just a dying man Milo stop Ivis pleaded her voice hoarse you’re making it worse we need to help him this is helping Milo screamed raising the rock again this is the poison this is what killed Barnes this is what killed all of them it has to be destroyed he brought the rock down crack the case was dented scarred but it would not open Peter stepped back from the window he was alone against a desperate panicked man who had already caused one death he looked at ghost the dog was vibrating with tension

his eyes locked on the building waiting for the command Peter unslung his pack and pulled out a set of heavy duty zip ties he put them in his pocket he was not a soldier anymore he was a peacekeeper he moved to the front door which was hanging by one hinge he stepped into the frame Milo his voice was quiet but it cut through the room like a razor Milo froze the rock held high above his head he spun around his eyes wild and bloodshot you he spat you stayed you followed me it’s over Milo Peter said holding his hands up slowly showing they were empty let her go

let me help Luca we can just stop stop Milo laughed a sound like breaking glass he’s dead Barnes is dead because of this because of you you kept it you made me you made your choice Milo Peter said his voice hard now make the right one untie her Milo’s eyes darted from Peter to Ivis he saw his leverage he dropped the rock and scrambled to Ivis pulling a scalpel from his pocket taken from the ambulance he pressed the flat of the blade against her throat you stay back he shrieked you stay back or I’ll cut her I swear I will

Ivis let out a choked sob squeezing her eyes shut Peter’s vision narrowed the calm was shattered the PTSD the cold rage it was still there just beneath the surface waiting he saw the blade he saw her terror he glanced at the broken side window ghost was there a gray shadow his paws on the sill waiting Peter locked eyes with Milo you don’t wanna do that try me get out get out and let us go Peter took one slow breath he gave a short sharp nod to the window ghost go the command was flat almost conversational

the sound that followed was an explosion ghost did not just climb through the window he crashed through it a 90 pound missile of silver grey fur and fury shattering the rotted wood and glass Milo shrieked in terror as the dog hit him a split second after he saw the movement the impact was brutal man and dog went down in a chaotic tumble crashing over an old desk the metal case which Milo had been standing over was kicked hard it flew across the room slamming against the far wall the impact sprung a damaged latch

the case popped open and from the foam padding inside a single tiny black object a small data card no bigger than a thumbnail was ejected it flew through the air unseen in the chaos and skittered across the dusty floorboards disappearing into a dark narrow crack between two planks no one saw it Peter was already moving Milo screaming was trying to fight the dog ghost had his jaws locked on Milo’s arm the arm holding the scalpel shaking his head with controlled punishing force the blade clattered to the floor get him off Milo screamed

Peter was on him he grabbed Milo by the collar pulling him off the dog he threw the younger man onto his back his knee pinning Milo’s chest ghost off Peter commanded the dog instantly released his grip his breathing harsh saliva dripping from his jowls he stood over Ivis a panting protective guard Peter’s hands were on Milo the fight was over he had won but as he looked down at the terrified weeping young man he did not see Milo he saw the enemy he saw the face of the man who had LED his team into an ambush

the man who had taken his friend the man who had caused all this death the blood was roaring in his ears the cold operational calm vanished replaced by the white hot singular rage he had held back on the ridge his hands of their own accord moved from Milo’s chest to his throat you killed him Peter whispered his voice a low terrifying growl you took her you his grip tightened Milo clawed at Peter’s hands his eyes bulging he made a choked gargling sound Peter was gone he was back in the dust the adrenaline singing his duty clear end the threat

Peter a scream Peter no stop you’re killing him it was Ivis her voice it cut through the red haze Peter’s hands did not loosen Peter a sharp piercing frantic bark bark bark ghost Peter blinked the roar in his ears faded he looked down he saw his own hands his knuckles white buried in the soft flesh of Milo’s throat he saw the young man’s face purple and contorted in a silent scream he was doing it he was killing him he recoiled throwing himself backward as if he had been burned he scrambled away gasping

staring at his own hands in horror I I dot dot quote Milo lay on the floor his body convulsing taking in a massive ragged whooping breath it’s over Peter Ivis said her voice soft now tears streaming down her face it’s over you have him Peter stared at her his chest heaving he had almost done it again ghost pushed his head under Peter’s trembling hand grounding him the sound of rotors distant but growing filled the air whump whump whump a helicopter and then the sound of heavy vehicles Peter looked at Ivas

the radio I I hit the panic button Ivis whispered the emergency beacon before he grabbed me I must have I must have hit it Peter nodded the last of the adrenaline draining away leaving him empty he pulled the zip ties from his pocket he walked over to Milo who was now just a sobbing broken young man Peter pulled Milo’s hands behind his back and secured them his movements mechanical the doors of the station burst open flooding the room with light men in dark green uniforms carrying rifles fanned out Border Patrol hands up hands up now

Peter slowly raised his hands he looked at the armed men at his captive at his friend and at the dog who had once again saved his soul it’s okay Peter said not to the soldiers but to Ivas help is here the world rushed in loud and official the Border Patrol agents were efficient their green uniforms a stark professional contrast to the chaos they moved with a practiced impersonal calm that Peter found both jarring and comforting Ivis wrapped in a shock blanket was already giving her statement her voice was thin but steady recounting the events with a nurse’s precision

medics who had arrived with the BP team were working on Luca he was still breathing just barely they had him stabilized and were preparing him for airlift Peter watched as they loaded the gurney onto the helicopter that had landed in the snowy bowl outside its rotors kicking up a blinding storm Milo his hands secured behind him was sitting on the floor his face blank the hysterical terror had been replaced by a hollow empty shock he did not look at Peter or Ivas as the agents pulled him to his feet and LED him away

Peter stood in the corner of the room his hand resting on Ghost’s head the dog was a warm solid presence the only thing that felt real an agent had already taken his rifle and his brief tactical statement he was no longer a person of interest just a witness a survivor sir an agent said to him his voice polite you’re free to go we’ll have an officer escort you and Miss Ives back to town Peter just nodded he and Ivas sat in the back of the warm patrol vehicle the silence between them heavy ghost sat at their feet his head on Peter’s knee

the town of North Star was reeling the news of Barnes’s death a tragic accident during a heroic act was the official story the news of Milo’s arrest for kidnapping and the presence of a foreign national was the story that was whispered the town was quiet the anger from the mob replaced by a stunned confused grief three days passed the plows finally came clearing the pass the world was connected again Peter was at his cabin nailing a new sheet of plywood over the shattered side window of the old border station Ivis was with him ghost was sniffing the perimeter

his presence a quiet comfort I can’t believe I left it Ivis said her voice muffled by her scarf she was searching the dusty floor inside my grandmother gave it to me we’ll find it Peter said their official reason for being there was to retrieve her locket a small silver oval torn from her neck in the struggle with Milo but Peter knew they were both there for another reason they were there to face the ghosts to reclaim the space from the horror it now held Ivis was searching near the chair where she had been tied Peter was looking near the wall

where the case had broken open he scanned the floor his eyes tracing the path of the debris he saw it it was not the locket it was a small dark glint almost invisible wedged deep in a crack between two floorboards a tiny black square the data card he knelt his back to Ivis his fingers were too thick to get it he pulled his multi tool from his pocket and used the pliers to carefully gently extract it he palmed it the tiny object feeling heavy in his hand found it Ivis called out a note of triumph in her voice she was holding the silver locket

its chain broken Peter stood closing his fist around the card good he said his voice even let’s go home two weeks later the snow was beginning to melt in the valley exposing the brown muddy earth Peter’s cabin was quiet he was sitting at his workbench in the woodshed an old offline laptop in front of him a complex series of adapters and card readers were plugged into its side he had spent days using his old army signals intelligence skills to bypass the encryption he clicked run the screen flickered and a file directory opened

he did not open it he unplugged the card took the laptop into the main cabin and set it on the table he had called Ivis she sat across from him a mug of tea steaming in her hands ghost lay at their feet his head on his paws watching them both you found it didn’t you she said it was not a question Peter nodded I did do we want to know Peter she asked her voice quiet Barnes is gone Milo is in federal custody Luca they say he’s stable but he’s been transferred and no one will say where it’s over is it Peter asked he looked at her I need to know

I need to know what I almost killed Milo for and what Barnes died for he turned the laptop and plugged the card in he opened the first file it was not military there were no battle plans no launch codes it was a corporate logo a company called Eterna Bio Research Peter knew the name they had a large heavily secured compound deep in the next valley a place that claimed to do agricultural research what is this Ivas asked leaning in Peter clicked through the files his blood ran cold they were test results air dispersal patterns infection vectors

data from animal trials it was clinical sterile and horrifying it’s not a military weapon Peter said his voice a raw whisper it’s a biological one a virus they were testing it he found another file a flight log it was Lucas and a second log for a drone he cross referenced the times they weren’t shooting him down Peter said pointing to the screen they were hurting him trying to force him down inside their own territory but the storm hit and he crashed here instead he found the last file a security report Luca an engineer had discovered what they were doing

he had stolen the data he was a whistleblower the colleagues he feared were not a foreign army they were corporate security Ivis sat back her face pale my god the town the livestock the water they’re testing this here a deep cold silence filled the room this truth was far uglier than a simple spy story this was not about nations it was about greed what do we do Ivas asked we give it to the police the feds Peter thought of the feds who had quietly made Luca disappear he thought of the local sheriff who had so quickly accepted the official story of Barnes’s death

he thought of the money Aeterna pumped into the local economy no Peter said they’ll bury it they’ll classify it it will disappear just like Luca he shut the laptop he knew what he had to do three days later Peter’s truck pulled into a parking spot in Mazula two hours away from North Star ghost sat in the passenger seat watching the city traffic Peter got out holding a thick 9 by 12 inch Manila envelope it had no return address it was addressed to the lead investigative journalist at The Washington Post a name he had gotten

from one of Ivas’s old college friends inside was a hard copy print out of the most critical data a new clean USB drive containing all the files and a single typed anonymous note check the water in the Bitterroot Valley they are poisoning you this is the proof he walked to the blue collection box on the street corner he held the envelope over the slot pausing for one second this was it there was no going back he let it go it dropped with a heavy final thud he walked back to his truck and got in the cab warm and familiar he sat there for a long moment

the noise of the city seeming very far away ghost sensing the tension had passed leaned over the center console and licked his hand Peter smiled a real tired smile he put his hand on the dog’s thick ruff his fingers scratching the familiar spot behind his ears the dog who had pulled him from the nightmares on the ridge the dog who had stopped his hands at the border station the dog who had been his anchor his conscience he put the truck in gear and pulled out into traffic he had come to the mountains seeking an end to his war he had failed but as he drove

he realized he had not been running from a fight he had just been waiting for the right one he was not a soldier anymore not in the way he had been but he was still a protector he had found a new way to fight not with a rifle but with the truth and for the first time since he had come home Peter felt a quiet unfamiliar sense of peace sometimes the deepest wounds are the ones we cannot see and often the best medicine is a quiet unwavering love a loyalty that asks for nothing but gives everything just like the bond between Peter and ghost these connections are what inspire all of our tales

if their journey touched your heart we hope you’ll join our community by subscribing your support through likes and shares helps these stories find the people who need them we would be honored to read your own reflections in the comments below our newest story is waiting for you now right on the screen