Winter Study

The flares were still clutched in her fingers. Striking one against the other, she heard the hiss of red fire and pushed them up into Bob’s gut. The down of his coat took the flames, then he screamed high and wild as the fire cut into his body. A

The smell of it sickened her. For a long time, she lay where she was, curled up like a sow bug, the taste of Bob Menechi

With a lurch that triggered the pain in her shoulder, A

Menechi

For a while, A

She also wanted his coat to keep herself warm, but hadn’t the strength to wrestle the garment off the body. Much of it would be melted to his skin. Its value wasn’t worth the calories it would take to harvest it. A story she’d read when she was a teenager flitted into her mind. To keep from freezing to death in a blizzard, a man had killed his horse, cut it open and crawled inside.

“Gross!” she said. She left coat and corpse unmolested. His radio had been melted, the leather case burned away, the buttons a mass of plastic still hot to the touch. A

36

“I told you not to breathe into your sleeping bag.”

Robin’s voice drifted into A

A soft warmth crept under the bundling around A

“She’s not dead.” The warmth receded, and A

A new blessing came in its stead. The warmth that touched so briefly at her throat spread over her face. “A

A

“Just hungover,” Robin said.

It took A

“Ketamine.”

“Yeah. Adam freaked. He was afraid what happened to his wife was going to happen to me. He got hold of Gavin and Gavin came and took me to Feldtma

“She only looks light,” said a voice. Robin’s face moved away, and A

“The wog,” A

“I am the wog,” Gavin said and smiled, a sweet blink of teeth and good nature. “Robin and me and Adam.”

“Adam’s dead,” A

“Bob Menechi

Robin and Gavin did not react with shock this time, just a minute freezing of the facial muscles. Robin put her deliciously warm hands back on A

“Did you kill Adam too?”

A

“I killed Katherine,” Gavin said.

“You did not!” Robin cried.

“You thought I did.”

Robin reached up a hand toward Gavin and he took it, his glove swallowing the slender fingers and palm.

“Put your gloves on,” A

“I’ll try Ridley again,” Robin said and rose to her feet. “Dispatch has been trying to raise him for half an hour,” she told A

“Blew your cover,” A

“You were in trouble,” Robin said simply.

“Gloves,” A

Gavin squatted beside A

“Dislocated shoulder and broken or badly bruised ankle,” A

Gavin began a proficient physical check, starting with her pulse and body temp.

“EMT?” A

He shook his head. “Eldest of seven,” he said.

Robin interrupted: “Do you think you can survive a ride out on the Bearcat?”

“Out of gas,” A

“Hot packs. Tell him we need hot packs,” Gavin said. As with Robin, his winter gear was worn and idiosyncratic. In place of a hood, he wore the same woolen tasseled hat Robin sported. They were probably the only two people in the world – other than the Lapps – who didn’t look silly with reindeer on their earflaps and pointy tufts on their heads. “Who is the president of the United States?” Gavin asked, to see if A

“The blue rucksack,” A